James Cabell: Domnei. A Comedy of Woman-Worship

Melicent cried aloud, "A bitter curse this beauty has been to me, and to all men who have desired it."

"But I do not desire it," said Orestes. "Else I would not have sold it to Ahasuerus. I desire only the governorship of some province on the frontier where I may fight daily with stalwart adversaries, and ride past the homes of conquered persons who hate me. Ahasuerus here assures me that the Emperor will not deny me such employment when I bring him the head of Messire de la Forêt. The raids of Messire de la Forêt have irreligiously annoyed our Emperor for a long while."

She muttered, "Thou that once wore a woman's body—!"

"—And I take Ahasuerus to be shrewd in all respects save one. For he desires trivialities. A wise man knows that woman are the sauce and not the meat of life; Ahasuerus, therefore, is not wise. And in consequence I do not lack a handsome bribe for this Bathyllos whom our good Emperor—misguided man!—is weak enough to love; my mother goes in chains; and I shall get my province."

Here Orestes laughed. And then the master of Nacumera left Dame Melicent alone with Ahasuerus.

When Orestes had gone, the Jew remained unmoved. He continued to dabble his finger-tips in the water as one who meditates. Presently he dried them on either sleeve so that he seemed to embrace himself.

Said he, "What instruments we use at need!"

She said, "So you have purchased me, Ahasuerus?"

"Yes, for a hundred and two minae. That is a great sum. You are not as the run of women, though. I think you are worth it."

She did not speak. The sun shone, and birds chaunted merrily to the right hand and to the left. She was considering the beauty of these gardens which seemed to sleep under a dome of hard, polished blue—the beauty of this cloistered Nacumera, wherein so many infamies writhed and contended like a nest of little serpents.

"Do you remember, Melicent, that night at Fomor Beach when you snatched a lantern from my hand? Your hand touched my hand, Melicent."

She answered, "I remember."

"I first of all saw that it was a woman who was aiding Perion to escape. I considered Perion a lucky man, for I had seen the woman's face."

She remained silent.

"I thought of this woman very often. I thought of her even more frequently after I had talked with her at Bellegarde, telling of Perion's captivity…. Melicent," the Jew said, "I make no songs, no protestations, no phrases. My deeds must speak for me. Concede that I have laboured tirelessly." He paused, his gaze lifted, and his lips smiled. His eyes stayed mirthless. "This mad Callistion's hate of you, and of the Demetrios who had abandoned her, was my first stepping-stone. By my advice a tiny wire was fastened very tightly around the fetlock of a certain horse, between the foot and the heel, and the hair was smoothed over this wire. Demetrios rode that horse in his last battle. It stumbled, and our terrible proconsul was thus brought to death. Callistion managed it. Thus I betrayed Demetrios."

Melicent said, "You are too foul for hell to swallow." And Ahasuerus manifested indifference to this imputed fault.

"Thus far I had gone hand-in-hand with an insane Callistion. Now our ways parted. She desired only to be avenged on you, and very crudely. That did not accord with my plan. I fell to bargaining. I purchased with—O rarity of rarities!—a little rational advice and much gold as well. Thus in due season I betrayed Callistion. Well, who forbids it?"

She said:

"God is asleep. Therefore you live, and I—alas!—must live for a while longer."

"Yes, you must live for a while longer—oh, and I, too, must live for a while longer!" the Jew returned. His voice had risen in a curious quavering wail. It was the first time Melicent ever knew him to display any emotion.

But the mood passed, and he said only:

"Who forbids it? In any event, there is a venerable adage concerning the buttering of parsnips. So I content myself with asking you to remember that I have not ever faltered. I shall not falter now. You loathe me. Who forbids it? I have known from the first that you detested me, and I have always considered your verdict to err upon the side of charity. Believe me, you will never loathe Ahasuerus as I do. And yet I coddle this poor knave sometimes—oh, as I do to-day!" he said.

And thus they parted.

The manner of the torment of Melicent was this: A little before dawn she was conducted by Ahasuerus and Orestes to the outermost turrets of Nacumera, which were now beginning to take form and colour. Very suddenly a flash of light had flooded the valley, the big crimson sun was instantaneously apparent as though he had leaped over the bleeding night-mists. Darkness and all night's adherents were annihilated. Pelicans and geese and curlews were in uproar, as at a concerted signal. A buzzard yelped thrice like a dog, and rose in a long spiral from the cliff to Melicent's right hand. He hung motionless, a speck in the clear zenith, uncannily anticipative. Warmth flooded the valley.

Now Melicent could see the long and narrow plain beneath her. It was overgrown with a tall coarse grass which, rippling in the dawn-wind, resembled moving waters from this distance, save where clumps of palm trees showed like islands. Farther off, the tents of the Free Companions were as the white, sharp teeth of a lion. Also she could see—and did not recognise—the helmet-covered head of Perion catch and reflect the sunrays dazzlingly, where he knelt in the shimmering grass just out of bowshot.

Now Perion could see a woman standing, in the new-born sunlight, under many gaily coloured banners. The maiden was attired in a robe of white silk, and about her wrists were heavy bands of silver. Her hair blazed in the light, bright as the sunflower glows; her skin was whiter than milk; the down of a fledgling bird was not more grateful to the touch than were her hands. There was never anywhere a person more delightful to gaze upon, and whosoever beheld her forthwith desired to render love and service to Dame Melicent. This much could Perion know, whose fond eyes did not really see the woman upon the battlements but, instead, young Melicent as young Perion had first beheld her walking by the sea at Bellegarde.

Thus Perion, who knelt in adoration of that listless girl, all white and silver, and gold, too, where her blown hair showed like a halo. Desirable and lovelier than words may express seemed Melicent to Perion as she stood thus in lonely exaltation, and behind her, glorious banners fluttered, and the blue sky took on a deeper colour. What Perion saw was like a church window when the sun shines through it. Ahasuerus perfectly understood the baiting of a trap.

Perion came into the open plain before the castle and called on her dear name three times. Then Perion, naked to his enemies, and at the disposal of the first pagan archer that chose to shoot him down, sang cheerily the waking-song which Melicent had heard a mimic Amphitryon make in Dame Alcmena's honour, very long ago, when people laughed and Melicent was young and ignorant of misery.

Sang Perion, " Rei glorios, verais lums e clardatz— " or, in other wording:

"Thou King of glory, veritable light, all-powerful deity! be pleased to succour faithfully my fair, sweet friend. The night that severed us has been long and bitter, the darkness has been shaken by bleak winds, but now the dawn is near at hand.

"My fair sweet friend, be of good heart! We have been tormented long enough by evil dreams. Be of good heart, for the dawn is approaching! The east is astir. I have seen the orient star which heralds day. I discern it clearly, for now the dawn is near at hand."

The song was no great matter; but the splendid futility of its performance amid such touch-and-go surroundings Melicent considered to be august. And consciousness of his words' poverty, as Perion thus lightly played with death in order to accord due honour to the lady he served, was to Dame Melicent in her high martyrdom as is the twist of a dagger in an already fatal wound; and made her love augment.