Jurgen: A Comedy of Justice Part 27

"Now if you do not mind, dear, I think we had better talk about something more pleasant. I do not blame you men of Eubonia, because all men are in such matters perfectly irresponsible. And perhaps it is not altogether the fault of the women, either, though I do think any really self-respecting woman would have the strength of character to keep out of such irregular relations, and that much I am compelled to say. So do not let us talk any more about these persons whom you describe as your wives. It is very nice of you, dear, to call them that, and I appreciate your delicacy. Still, I really do believe we had better talk about something else."

Jurgen deliberated. "Yet do you not think, Chloris, that in the absence of Jugatinus--and in, as I understand it, the unavoidable absence of Jugatinus,--somebody else might perform the ceremony?"

"Oh, yes, if they wanted to. But it would not count. n.o.body but Jugatinus can really marry people. And so of course n.o.body else does."

"What makes you sure of that?"

"Why, because," said Chloris, triumphantly, "n.o.body ever heard of such a thing."

"You have voiced," said Jurgen, "an entire code of philosophy. Let us by all means go to Jugatinus and be married."

So they were married by Jugatinus, according to the ceremony with which the People of the Wood were always married by Jugatinus. First Virgo loosed the girdle of Chloris in such fas.h.i.+on as was customary; and Chloris, after sitting much longer than Jurgen liked in the lap of Mutinus (who was in the state that custom required of him) was led back to Jurgen by Domiducus in accordance with immemorial custom; Subigo did her customary part; then Praema grasped the bride's plump arms: and everything was perfectly regular.

Thereafter Jurgen disposed of his staff in the way Thersites had directed: and thereafter Jurgen abode with Chloris upon the outskirts of the forest, and complied with the customs of Leuke. Her tree was a rather large oak, for Chloris was now in her two hundred and sixty-sixth year; and at first its commodious trunk sheltered them. But later Jurgen builded himself a little cabin thatched with birds' wings, and made himself more comfortable.

"It is well enough for you, my dear, in fact it is expected of you, to live in a tree-bole. But it makes me feel uncomfortably like a worm, and it needlessly emphasizes the restrictions of married life.

Besides, you do not want me under your feet all the time, nor I you.

No, let us cultivate a judicious abstention from familiarity: such is one secret of an enduring, because endurable, marriage. But why is it, pray, that you have never married before, in all these years?"

She told him. At first Jurgen could not believe her, but presently Jurgen was convinced, through at least two of his senses, that what Chloris told him was true about hamadryads.

"Otherwise, you are not markedly unlike the women of Eubonia," said Jurgen.

And now Jurgen met many of the People of the Wood; but since the tree of Chloris stood upon the verge of the forest, he saw far more of the People of the Field, who dwelt between the forest and the city of Pseudopolis. These were the neighbors and the ordinary a.s.sociates of Chloris and Jurgen; though once in a while, of course, there would be family gatherings in the forest. But Jurgen presently had found good reason to distrust the People of the Wood, and went to none of these gatherings.

"For in Eubonia," he said, "we are taught that your wife's relatives will never find fault with you to your face so long as you keep away from them. And more than that, no sensible man expects."

Meanwhile, King Jurgen was perplexed by the People of the Field, who were his neighbors. They one and all did what they had always done.

Thus Runcina saw to it that the Fields were weeded: Seia took care of the seed while it was buried in the earth: Nodosa arranged the knots and joints of the stalk: Volusia folded the blade around the corn: each had an immemorial duty. And there was hardly a day that somebody was not busied in the Fields, whether it was Occator harrowing, or Sator and Sarritor about their sowing and raking, or Stercutius manuring the ground: and Hippona was always bustling about in one place or another looking after the horses, or else Bubona would be there attending to the cattle. There was never any restfulness in the Fields.

"And why do you do these things year in and year out?" asked Jurgen.

"Why, King of Eubonia, we have always done these things," they said, in high astonishment.

"Yes, but why not stop occasionally?"

"Because in that event the work would stop. The corn would die, the cattle would perish, and the Fields would become jungles."

"But, as I understand it, this is not your corn, nor your cattle, nor your Fields. You derive no good from them. And there is nothing to prevent your ceasing this interminable labor, and living as do the People of the Wood, who perform no heavy work whatever."

"I should think not!" said Aristaeus, and his teeth flashed in a smile that was very pleasant to see, as he strained at the olive-press.

"Whoever heard of the People of the Wood doing anything useful!"

"Yes, but," says Jurgen, patiently, "do you think it is quite fair to yourselves to be always about some tedious and difficult labor when n.o.body compels you to do it? Why do you not sometimes take holiday?"

"King Jurgen," replied Fornax, looking up from the little furnace wherein she was parching corn, "you are talking nonsense. The People of the Field have never taken holiday. n.o.body ever heard of such a thing."

"We should think not indeed!" said all the others, sagely.

"Ah, ah!" said Jurgen, "so that is your demolis.h.i.+ng reason. Well, I shall inquire about this matter among the People of the Wood, for they may be more sensible."

Then as Jurgen was about to enter the forest, he encountered Terminus, perfumed with ointment, and crowned with a garland of roses, and standing stock still.

"Aha," said Jurgen, "so here is one of the People of the Wood about to go down into the Fields. But if I were you, my friend, I would keep away from any such foolish place."

"I never go down into the Fields," said Terminus.

"Oh, then, you are returning into the forest."

"But certainly not. Whoever heard of my going into the forest!"

"Indeed, now I look at you, you are merely standing here."

"I have always stood here," said Terminus.

"And do you never move?"

"No," said Terminus.

"And for what reason?"

"Because I have always stood here without moving," replied Terminus.

"Why, for me to move would be a quite unheard-of thing."

So Jurgen left him, and went into the forest. And there Jurgen encountered a smiling young fellow, who rode upon the back of a large ram. This young man had his left fore-finger laid to his lips, and his right hand held an astonis.h.i.+ng object to be thus publicly displayed.

"But, oh, dear me! now, really, sir--!" says Jurgen.

"Bah!" says the ram.

But the smiling young fellow said nothing at all as he pa.s.sed Jurgen, because it is not the custom of Harpocrates to speak.

"Which would be well enough," reflected Jurgen, "if only his custom did not make for stiffness and the embarra.s.sment of others."

Thereafter Jurgen came upon a considerable commotion in the bushes, where a satyr was at play with an oread.

"Oh, but this forest is not respectable!" said Jurgen. "Have you no ethics and morals, you People of the Wood! Have you no sense of responsibility whatever, thus to be frolicking on a working-day?"

"Why, no," responded the Satyr, "of course not. None of my people have such things: and so the natural vocation of all satyrs is that which you are now interrupting."

"Perhaps you speak the truth," said Jurgen. "Still, you ought to be ashamed of the fact that you are not lying."

"For a satyr to be ashamed of himself would be indeed an unheard-of thing! Now go away, you in the glittering s.h.i.+rt! for we are studying eudaemonism, and you are talking nonsense, and I am busy, and you annoy me," said the Satyr.

"Well, but in Cocaigne," said Jurgen, "this eudaemonism was considered an indoor diversion."

"And did you ever hear of a satyr going indoors?"