Lamekis

by Charles de Fieux

  I spent two hours in this cruel state unable to make myself feel better. I tried to recall the signs she had made to me and I shuddered. They could have been ambiguous and the King’s visit not. He knew that my room faced Clemelis’; he came by and asked to talk with one of my servants or with me. Without letting on what I was thinking, I decided to figure out his plan, so I called someone to find out after I got back in bed. I had guessed right. The King had asked what I was doing and if I was well enough for him to visit. I sent a message and he came back to my room across the hallway that he had the only key to. If I wasn’t so cruelly bent against him, I would have felt very honored. It was a great and sure proof of the friendship that he showed me.

  “Lamekis,” he said after sitting down, “I have finally learned why you’re so listless and distracted. You’re in love and if I’m not mistaken, I know with whom. I expect an honest confession from you so that I can help you to be happy. I have been like a father to you and now it’s time that you spoke to me like a son. Share your private thoughts with me. I want you to admit it and you will see that it will be for the best.”

  Instead of trusting these unmistakable signs of kindness, I staunchly denied his assumptions about my melancholy. Two reasons made do this. Firstly, the suspicion I had that the Houcaïs loved Clemelis and a confession like this could be harmful to my love for obvious reasons. The second reason was the false shame I had of refuting my principles that I was once so proud of, but had abandoned so easily. I beat around the bush and blamed my bad moods and bad health. Since the King was only pressing me because he cared about me, when I assured him of what I was saying, he changed the subject and talked about a celebration he wanted to give the Queen and his whole Court. Two days later he was kind enough to amuse me by filling me in on the details, guaranteeing that he would postpone it if I were not feeling well enough to attend. The idea of seeing Clemelis and watching her behavior, in my suspicions about her and the King, made me convince him that I was feeling well enough to revel in my King’s glorious celebration, adding with a smile that I was starting to think like a reasonable man and did not want to miss out on the palace pleasures. My speech was well received and put him in the best of moods.

  “In honor of this new attitude,” he said, “which I like a lot, I want to tell you something that you will be very glad to hear: You have saved the life of the Queen’s daughter whom we love a lot and it’s only right that she herself give you the thanks you deserve. Until then…Your look of surprise tells me you’re curious. And rightly so, I admit, but I have decided not to say more. With a little thought and insight anyone could figure it out, so I imagine it will be easy for you.”

  After saying this with a cunning smile, the King left and I was as dumbfounded as I had ever been. I had saved the life of the Queen’s daughter? But when, good god? And how? (Either my memory was really bad or useless.) And I had to be thanked for it? The girl certainly knew that she had to do it, so why was it taking her so long. How was it that the King knew more than I did? Everything threw me into confusion. One thought led to a thousand more. And yet when the King left Clemelis’ room his first words to me were about my presumed passion. What did all this mean? I was lost. Moreover, not long ago Clemelis avoided looking at me and then all of a sudden she kept coming back to the window, looking sweetly at me, making obvious signs. What hidden springs were being set in motion? This was what I thought about.

  I was in deep meditation when the charming Clemelis reappeared in the window with an older woman to whom she pointed me out and no doubt talked about me. I was intimidated, surprised and held back my feelings at seeing her again. Every time our eyes met, hers smiled and revealed a well of kindness that could not have astonished me more. Fate was acting and wasting no time to drive me to my destined goal.

  Some nobles of the Court, who had been present when I fainted, came to see me and I could not honestly deny them entrance. It was not so much for me as for the Houcaïs that they came. One of the courtiers, a flighty, superficial young man who could not stand still, went over to the window, leaned out for a little while and came back to me congratulating me on having a neighbor who was (he said) the sweetest in the realm. Another, who did stand still and had no idea what the little Monsieur was talking about, asked for a name.

  “It’s Clemelis,” he replied.

  “Clemelis,” a third one repeated (speaking for me). “How lucky you are! There’s no one in the world like her. For me, I would lay a crown at her feet.” He raised his voice, went over to the window to be sure to be heard and while pretending to talk to us made the usual declarations of love. I was livid, but I kept quiet. Once begun it was useless to try to change the subject of conversation. After reeling off a bunch of compliments, they went into details, which did not disappoint me.

  “We all know that she’s a foreigner,” the little Monsieur said. “But none of us could find out how the Houcaïs got her under his protection. If we didn’t know him so well, we’d imagine that he was under her spell, but his conduct toward her, by giving her to the Queen, makes us to think otherwise. What we can’t understand is why they’re keeping secret about where she came from. But it doesn’t matter,” he added like he was speaking to himself, “we’ll find out. It can’t stay hidden forever. Just like the secret that she keeps about her love life. She’s been love struck and there’s nothing she can do about it. Even for an expert, however canny they are at playing their game, it doesn’t take long to become public. As for me, I love her and I’m cut to the quick. I won’t be able to rest until I unravel the mystery, which I’m working on at the moment.”

  The little Monsieur left it there. The other fool like him took up the conversation and even though he said nothing more or different, he was more than a little helpful in making me hold onto my original suspicions. “Don’t torture yourself,” he raised his voice, “trying to guess who holds her heart. You’ve already named him without knowing it.”

  “What…the King?” the little Monsieur exclaimed.

  “Yes, the King,” the courtier continued. “I’ve happened to see him enter or leave her room probably ten times. Even today he went by in the morning and if you want to go on and say that it was nothing and meant nothing, at least you have to admit that it’s worth thinking about.”

  I had been waiting for this semi-proof impatiently and they gave it to me. For some time (they agreed) the King had been going without fail to all the little games when Clemelis played and he had changed, too. This impressed and depressed me. I tried not to show it, but I was so lost and distracted that I was not angry anymore. No doubt they figured they were bothering me and finally took their leave, promising me their friendship, which I gladly would have done without.

  Oh Sinouis, think about this new situation and how upset I was after they left. A few days earlier I had been given devoted signs by Clemelis. In 15 minutes I saw them coming from some unknown ploy meant only to make me fall into a trap that I could not understand. I was so deeply disturbed that I resolved to fight against my passion and never again appear at my window unless I was sure to be strong enough for the fight. I resolved and right away started proving to myself how determined I was. I went into another room where I stubbornly waited for the day of the celebration, which I could not get out of after giving my word to the King that I would go.

  My behavior brought me an unexpected letter. On the third day an unknown slave came and asked to deliver to me personally a note that had been given to him. It had only a few words.

  The Letter of Clemelis

  I am worried because I don’t see you anymore. I know that you are not so sick that you can’t come to the window. What am I think about your enthusiasm followed by such coldness and this strange behavior? I would like to understand it. I dare not. I’m afraid of learning something unpleasant. I am too indebted to you to risk falling out with you. Goodbye.

  Instead of delighting me the letter fed my distrust and doubled my troubles. My first reaction was
to send the slave back with no answer, but a clever idea stopped me. We owe a certain consideration to women that a well-raised man ought never to forget. I put pen to paper and wrote a response.

  The Letter of Lamekis

  I can take pride in the kindness mentioned in the note only if it was received with as much gratitude as possible. The behavior that you are pretending to complain about is the natural result of sensible thoughts. I, too, would like to know and would be less disturbed about an exchange of promises that I don’t understand at all. I would be only too happy to have given rise to it; I would commend it, but I won’t let improper feelings lead me astray from the respect to a King whom I owe so much and care for so much.

  The first draft of my letter was more intelligible and voiced my suspicions, but before sending it I thought it best to be more ambiguous and my note had the effect I was hoping for—Clemelis proved it by the cold looks she gave me when I saw her on the day of the King’s celebration. How sensitive she was to the cavalier manner in which I answered her letter! Up until then I thought I was right and even applauded my firmness. I don’t love her anymore, I told myself. My reason has pierced the cloud and given me back power over my astonished senses. What could I say? I had never loved so much and I realized that right away.

  The celebration lasted for three days and during this time Clemelis looked so beautiful, so wise and so modest that I reproached myself for having been able to suspect her of tricks and intrigue. Her face was all alit with honesty. She often conversed with the King and I even had the chance to follow them into an out-of-the-way grove where I could easily find out, without being noticed, the truth or falsity of my misgivings. But I heard nothing to convince me. Every time the Houcaïs spoke to her, the beautiful girl’s eyes lowered and her cheeks blushed, betraying her innocence and modesty. When she smiled, it was with a grace and decency that could only be admired.

  When the heart is wounded, good and bad feelings come and go in rapid succession. Before the third day had ended, I was totally wrapped up in beautiful Clemelis and had scolded myself a thousand times for having missed so many favorable opportunities as were offered at a celebration where freedom was given to all. I decided to try to mend my blameworthy behavior.

  The Houcaïs provided the means by asking if my attitude and indifference had changed their tune. “You assured me,” he said, “that you were more reasonable about having a good time. And yet seeing you up close these last few days I find you dreamy, distracted and melancholic, like a man who is here out of complacency, like you were here just to indulge me. My plan was to keep my word about the matter I mentioned to you, but you haven’t looked at all ready to hear me out, so I’ve left it at that.” The King added that I must not be very curious about what he had said: “Either you don’t care about anything at all or you hide it better than anyone. I won’t humor the one or the other,” he laughed, “so, watch out! I’m going to blow you over more than you think.”

  I answered naturally enough to this new attack and deftly took advantage of it to make the Houcaïs speak. “Lord, I am dreamy and distracted, I agree, but who wouldn’t be after what you said to me? My insight is not keen enough to solve unsolvable puzzles. Since I was old enough to live under your laws, I have never strayed. And nothing important has ever happened to me that you were not informed of. How, then, could I save the life of a daughter of the Queen? And where…?”

  “Let me break in,” the Houcaïs smiled. “Your excuse is well-founded and deserves consideration. Follow me. I don’t want to keep you waiting any longer. It’s only fair to tell you.”

  With this he took me by the hand and led me into a room where the Queen was playing Buck, Buck254 with her ladies, particularly teaming up with Clemelis and another lady whose look struck me to the bottom of my heart. “Lamekis,” he told them, “is making me sad. I had decided to keep the secret from him until it was the right time for us, but his worries and sluggishness have made my mind up. I leave him to you,” he told the Queen. “I will take your place and continue your game. Go fill him with the purest joy.” With that he left me and the Queen and took his place.

  She smiled graciously and said, “Aren’t you moved, Lamekis, when you stare at me? I have only one thing to tell you that will make you the happiest of men. Before I explain I would like you to try to guess what it is. You have before you someone very dear. Remember your childhood and that fatal day when you were menaced on the sea and lost this precious treasure.”

  “Ah!” I shouted, staring at the lady with Clemelis. “I’m seeing…I’m feeling…I know…ah, my dear mother!” I could say no more. My knees gave out from under me. I wanted to jump in the arms of Milkhea. It was her—the Heavens had saved her. But my emotions had wrenched away my strength. She hugged me as hard as she could and called me by the sweet name of “son.” I was filled with joy.

  The scene was too emotional and very personal to me, but the Queen and Clemelis were watching and seemed to be part of it. I had barely expressed my first reaction when I asked for news of my father. Milkhea suddenly became awkward and sad and told me everything. I asked no more questions and there was a moment of silence. I cried as bitterly as if it was the first time I had heard the news.

  The Queen interrupted my grief, reminding me that we all must submit to eternal decrees. “Your illustrious father lived too well not to be glorified. Now the Heavens demand acts of gratitude, not grief. You were granted the great favor of seeing your mother again and that should cut off any other emotion.” These words dried my tears and the sight of my most venerable mother did indeed fill me with pleasure and I told her this again in my most tender embraces.

  Milkhea then told me my father’s whole story, which I was only partially aware of, and exactly the way I told you, Sinouis, but when she got to the part of us being cast to sea255 and on the point of dying of hunger, she stopped. “That’s where supreme Providence,” she looked up into the sky, “must always be worshipped. Everyone was dying of hunger and misery. I lost my dear daughter and my illustrious spouse was himself on the verge of death. Haronza paid the tribute to nature. A savage mother tried to eat her own daughter. An infant almost died and then, an instant later came back from the everlasting night. Your blood, my son, gave her life! She sucked your wound and the gruesome nourishment saved her.”

  “What are you saying?” I interjected, looking stunned at Clemelis. “Is that the solution to the puzzle and the thanks that the King alluded to? Could I ever be happier seeing that the Heavens wanted to make me the instrument of their glory and their choice fell upon the one person in the world who seems the worthiest to me?”

  “This hugging and kissing that my gratitude has caused,” Clemelis broke in blushing, “answers all your questions in the positive. If I hadn’t been ordered to hold back my thanks until today, I would have unburdened myself of it the instant I learned that you were my savior.”

  Her words and grace in saying them brought back all my heart’s fire for Clemelis and destroyed all the ideas I had about her complicity with the King. Nothing was more natural than their conversations together. It was easy now to know that they were talking about me. Moreover, this lovely girl had never left my illustrious mother. I had just learned that in her story: she had replaced my sister and Milkhea thought of her as her own daughter whom the Heavens gave her to adopt. In a flash all these thoughts came rushing to me at the same time. Instead of the worry that had eaten away at me for days, my heart was full of pure joy. I expressed it in the liveliest terms. And I did more: I confessed all the feelings that had motivated me. The Queen and my mother made me feel better by saying that the Houcaïs was ready to consent to my happiness. Only Clemelis was silent, but it was a sweet, encouraging silence. How happy I would have been if I could have made the most of Heavens’ favors! But alas, are we born to be happy in life?

  Lamekis and Zelimon

  The King, who soon learned of my love for Clemelis, scolded me a little for hiding it from him. “You k
now I love you,” he said kindly, “and I wouldn’t refuse you anything if it would make you happy.” I was careful explaining to him my reasons and he was satisfied with my summary. We ended with a formal decision to unite Clemelis and me as soon as possible in sacred bonds. In the meantime I was allowed to see her all the time.

  If her adorable charms had made such an impression on me at first sight, her brilliant mind and gentle personality finished it off by making me realize that I was luckiest man in the world. In fact, her admirable qualities were above all possible praise. Oh Heavens, who could have thought that what should have been the source of my happiness, would end up being the cause of our separation? But, Sinouis, allow me to linger a little on this awful moment. It’s absolutely necessary under these circumstances to bring everything to light and, if possible, to make me less to blame. That’s the result of pride—it does all it can to avoid being blamed.

  Boldeon had a son who shared the favors of the Houcaïs. He was so nice to me and was so handsome that I could not help feeling honored to be friends with him. Nevertheless, however close I felt to him, I had hidden until then my love for Clemelis. I felt now I had to be the first to tell him about what would soon become public. He had a right to reproach me and doubt the friendship that I assured him of everyday. Furthermore, he seemed surprised at my confession and talked about the charms of marriage as a hard and heavy load that I would regret sooner or later.

  He went on to say that Clemelis was too beautiful to make me happy. “You love her too much. You’ll love her even more after you have her. Her delicacy will lead to jealousy and jealousy to the tragedy of your life. Her beauty will lure lovers and you will live in anxiety. As long as her delicacy remains, you will only think about rivals, but as soon as jealousy takes hold, everything will take a turn for the worse. Respect, the foundation of true happiness, will vanish. You will think your spouse is neglecting you in the most important things and when this feeling comes, you will make each other unhappy.”