Part 21 (1/2)

Shortcomings of Prince Jurgen

Now the happenings just recorded befell on the eve of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist: and thereafter Jurgen abode in Cocaigne, and complied with the customs of that country.

In the palace of Queen Anatis, all manner of pastimes were practised without any cessation. Jurgen, who considered himself to be somewhat of an authority upon such contrivances, was soon astounded by his own innocence. For Anatis showed him whatever was being done in Cocaigne, to this side and to that side, under the direction of Anatis, whom Jurgen found to be a nature myth of doubtful origin connected with the Moon; and who, in consequence, ruled not merely in Cocaigne but furtively swayed the tides of life everywhere the Moon keeps any power over tides. It was the mission of Anatis to divert and turn aside and deflect: in this the jealous Moon abetted her because sunlight makes for straightforwardness. So Anatis and the Moon were staunch allies. These mysteries of their private relations, however, as revealed to Jurgen, are not very nicely repeatable.

”But you dishonored the Moon, Prince Jurgen, denying praise to the day of the Moon. Or so, at least, I have heard.”

”I remember doing nothing of the sort. But I remember considering it unjust to devote one paltry day to the Moon's majesty. For night is sacred to the Moon, each night that ever was the friend of lovers,--night, the renewer and begetter of all life.”

”Why, indeed, there is something in that argument,” says Anatis, dubiously.

”'Something', do you say! why, but to my way of thinking it proves the Moon is precisely seven times more honorable than any of the Leshy. It is merely, my dear, a question of arithmetic.”

”Was it for that reason you did not praise Pandelis and her Mondays with the other Leshy?”

”Why, to be sure,” said Jurgen, glibly. ”I did not find it at all praiseworthy that such an insignificant Leshy as Pandelis should name her day after the Moon: to me it seemed blasphemy.” Then Jurgen coughed, and looked sidewise at his shadow. ”Had it been Sereda, now, the case would have been different, and the Moon might well have appreciated the delicate compliment.”

Anatis appeared relieved. ”I shall report your explanation.

Candidly, there were ill things in store for you, Prince Jurgen, because your language was misunderstood. But that which you now say puts quite a different complexion upon matters.”

Jurgen laughed, not understanding the mystery, but confident he could always say whatever was required of him.

”Now let us see a little more of Cocaigne!” cries Jurgen.

For Jurgen was greatly interested by the pursuits of Cocaigne, and for a week or ten days partic.i.p.ated therein industriously. Anatis, who reported the Moon's honor to be satisfied, now spared no effort to divert him, and they investigated innumerable pastimes together.

”For all men that live have but a little while to live,” said Anatis, ”and none knows his fate thereafter. So that a man possesses nothing certainly save a brief loan of his body: and yet the body of man is capable of much curious pleasure. As thus and thus,” says Anatis. And she revealed devices to her Prince Consort.

For Jurgen found that unknowingly he had in due and proper form espoused Queen Anatis, by partic.i.p.ating in the Breaking of the Veil, which is the marriage ceremony of Cocaigne. His earlier relations with Dame Lisa had, of course, no legal standing in Cocaigne, where the Church is not Christian and the Law is, Do that which seems good to you.

”Well, when in Rome,” said Jurgen, ”one must be romantic. But certainly this proves that n.o.body ever knows when he is being entrapped into respectability: and never did a fine young fellow marry a high queen with less premeditation.”

”Ah, my dear,” says Anatis, ”you were controlled by the finger of Fate.”

”I do not altogether like that figure of speech. It makes one seem too trivial, to be controlled by a mere finger. No, it is not quite complimentary to call what prompted me a finger.”

”By the long arm of coincidence, then.”

”Much more appropriate, my love,” says Jurgen, complacently: ”it sounds more dignified, and does not wound my self esteem.”

Now this Anatis who was Queen of Cocaigne was a delicious tall dark woman, thinnish, and lovely, and very restless. From the first her new Prince Consort was puzzled by her fervors, and presently was fretted by them. He humbly failed to understand how anyone could be so frantic over Jurgen. It seemed unreasonable. And in her more affectionate moments this nature myth positively frightened him: for transports such as these could not but rouse discomfortable reminiscences of the female spider, who ends such recreations by devouring her partner.

”Thus to be loved is very flattering,” he would reflect, ”and I again am Jurgen, asking odds of none. But even so, I am mortal. She ought to remember that, in common fairness.”

Then the jealousy of Anatis, while equally flattering, was equally out of reason. She suspected everybody, seemed a.s.sured that every bosom cherished a mad pa.s.sion for Jurgen, and that not for a moment could he be trusted. Well, as Jurgen frankly conceded, his conduct toward Stella, that ill-starred yogini of Indawadi, had in point of fact displayed, when viewed from an especial and quite unconscionable point of view, an aspect which, when isolated by persons judging hastily, might, just possibly, appear to approach remotely, in one or two respects, to temporary forgetfulness of Anatis, if indeed there were people anywhere so mentally deficient as to find such forgetfulness conceivable.

But the main thing, the really important feature, which Anatis could not be made to understand, was that she had interrupted her consort in what was, in effect, a philosophical experiment, necessarily attempted in the dark. The muntrus requisite to the sacti sodhana were always performed in darkness: everybody knew that. For the rest, this Stella had a.s.serted so-and-so; in simple equity she was ent.i.tled to a chance to prove her allegations if she could: so Jurgen had proceeded to deal fairly with her. Besides, why keep talking about this Stella, after a vengeance so spectacular and thorough as that to which Anatis had out of hand resorted? why keep reverting to a topic which was repugnant to Jurgen and visibly upset the dearest nature myth in all legend? Was it quite fair to anyone concerned? That was the sensible way in which Jurgen put it.

Still, he became honestly fond of Anatis. Barring her eccentricities when roused to pa.s.sion, she was a generous and kindly creature, although in Jurgen's opinion somewhat narrow-minded.