Jurgen: A Comedy of Justice

by James Branch Cabell

  25.

  Cantraps of the Master Philologist

  But now, as has been recorded, it was September, and Jurgen couldsee that Anaitis too was worrying over something. She kept it fromhim as long as possible: first said it was nothing at all, then saidhe would know it soon enough, then wept a little over thepossibility that he would probably be very glad to hear it, andeventually told him. For in becoming the consort of a nature mythconnected with the Moon Jurgen had of course exposed himself to thedanger of being converted into a solar legend by the Philologists,and in that event would be compelled to leave Cocaigne with theEquinox, to enter into autumnal exploits elsewhere. And Anaitis wasquite heart-broken over the prospect of losing Jurgen.

  "For I have never had such a Prince Consort in Cocaigne, somaddening, and so helpless, and so clever; and the girls are so fondof you, although they have not been able to get on at all with somany of their step-fathers! And I know that you are flippant andheartless, but you have quite spoiled me for other men. No, Jurgen,there is no need to argue, for I have experimented with at least adozen lovers lately, when I was traveling, and they bored meinsufferably. They had, as you put it, dear, no conversation: andyou are the only young man I have found in all these ages who couldtalk interestingly."

  "There is a reason for that, since like you, Anaitis, I am not soyouthful as I appear."

  "I do not care a straw about appearances," wept Anaitis, "but I knowthat I love you, and that you must be leaving me with the Equinoxunless you can settle matters with the Master Philologist."

  "Well, my pet," says Jurgen, "the Jews got into Jericho by trying."

  He armed, and girded himself with Caliburn, drank a couple ofbottles of wine, put on the shirt of Nessus over all, and then wentto seek this thaumaturgist.

  Anaitis showed him the way to an unpretentious residence, where aweek's washing was drying and flapping in the side yard. Jurgenknocked boldly, and after an interval the door was opened by theMaster Philologist himself.

  "You must pardon this informality," he said, blinking through hisgreat spectacles, which had dust on them: "but time was by ill luckarrested hereabouts on a Thursday evening, and so the maid is outindefinitely. I would suggest, therefore, that the lady wait outsideupon the porch. For the neighbors to see her go in would not berespectable."

  "Do you know what I have come for?" says Jurgen, blustering, andsplendid in his glittering shirt and his gleaming armor. "For I warnyou I am justice."

  "I think you are lying, and I am sure you are making an unnecessarynoise. In any event, justice is a word, and I control all words."

  "You will discover very soon, sir, that actions speak louder thanwords."

  "I believe that is so," said the Master Philologist, still blinking,"just as the Jewish mob spoke louder than He Whom they crucified.But the Word endures."

  "You are a quibbler!"

  "You are my guest. So I advise you, in pure friendliness, not toimpugn the power of my words."

  Said Jurgen, scornfully: "But is justice, then, a word?"

  "Oh, yes, it is one of the most useful. It is the Spanish _justicia_,the Portuguese _justica_, the Italian _giustizia_, all fromthe Latin _justus_. Oh, yes indeed, but justice is one of my bestconnected words, and one of the best trained also, I can assure you."

  "Aha, and to what degraded uses do you put this poor enslavedintimidated justice!"

  "There is but one intelligent use," said the Master Philologist,unruffled, "for anybody to make of words. I will explain it to you,if you will come in out of this treacherous draught. One never knowswhat a cold may lead to."

  Then the door closed upon them, and Anaitis waited outside, in sometrepidation.

  Presently Jurgen came out of that unpretentious residence, and soback to Anaitis, discomfited. Jurgen flung down his magic sword,charmed Caliburn.

  "This, Anaitis, I perceive to be an outmoded weapon. There is noweapon like words, no armor against words, and with words the MasterPhilologist has conquered me. It is not at all equitable: but theman showed me a huge book wherein were the names of everything inthe world, and justice was not among them. It develops that,instead, justice is merely a common noun, vaguely denoting anethical idea of conduct proper to the circumstances, whether ofindividuals or communities. It is, you observe, just a grammarian'snotion."

  "But what has he decided about you, Jurgen?"

  "Alas, dear Anaitis, he has decided, in spite of all that I coulddo, to derive Jurgen from _jargon_, indicating a confusedchattering such as birds give forth at sunrise: thus ruthlessly doesthe Master Philologist convert me into a solar legend. So the affairis settled, and we must part, my darling."

  Anaitis took up the sword. "But this is valuable, since the man whowields it is the mightiest of warriors."

  "It is a rush, a rotten twig, a broomstraw, against the insidiousweapons of the Master Philologist. But keep it if you like, my dear,and give it to your next Prince Consort. I am ashamed to havetrifled with such toys," says Jurgen, in fretted disgust. "Andbesides, the Master Philologist assures me I shall mount far higherthrough the aid of this."

  "But what is on that bit of parchment?"

  "Thirty-two of the Master Philologist's own words that I begged ofhim. See, my dear, he made this cantrap for me with his own hand andink." And Jurgen read from the parchment, impressively: "'At thedeath of Adrian the Fifth, Pedro Juliani, who should be named Johnthe Twentieth, was through an error in the reckoning elevated to thepapal chair as John the Twenty-first.'"

  Said Anaitis, blankly: "And is that all?"

  "Why, yes: and surely thirty-two whole words should be enough forthe most exacting."

  "But is it magic? are you certain it is authentic magic?"

  "I have learned that there is always magic in words."

  "Now, if you ask my opinion, Jurgen, your cantrap is nonsense, andcan never be of any earthly use to anybody. Without boasting, dear,I have handled a great deal of black magic in my day, but I neverencountered a spell at all like this."

  "None the less, my darling, it is evidently a cantrap, for else theMaster Philologist would never have given it to me."

  "But how are you to use it, pray?"

  "Why, as need directs," said Jurgen, and he put the parchment intothe pocket of his glittering shirt. "Yes, I repeat, there is alwayssomething to be done with words, and here are thirty-two authenticwords from the Master Philologist himself, not to speak of threecommas and a full-stop. Oh, I shall certainly go far with this."

  "We women have firmer faith in the sword," replied Anaitis. "At allevents, you and I cannot remain upon this thaumaturgist's porchindefinitely."

  So Anaitis put up Caliburn, and carried it from the thaumaturgist'sunpretentious residence to her fine palace in the old twilit wood:and afterward, as everybody knows, she gave this sword to KingArthur, who with its aid rose to be hailed as one of the NineWorthies of the World. So did the husband of Guenevere win forhimself eternal fame with that which Jurgen flung away.