Figures of Earth: A Comedy of Appearances

by James Branch Cabell

  XIX

  The Head of Misery

  When Manuel had reached the outskirts of the forest he encountered therea knight in vermilion armor, with a woman's sleeve wreathed about hishelmet: and, first of all, this knight demanded who was Manuel's ladylove.

  "I have no living love," said Manuel, "except the woman whom I amleaving without ceremony, because it seems the only way to avoidingargument."

  "But that is unchivalrous, and does not look well."

  "Very probably you are right, but I am not chivalrous. I am Manuel. Ifollow after my own thinking, and an obligation is upon me pointingtoward prompt employment of the knowledge I have gained from thiswoman."

  "You are a rascally betrayer of women, then, and an unmanly scoundrel."

  "Yes, I suppose so, for I betrayed another woman, in that I permittedand indeed assisted her to die in my stead; and so brought yet anotherbond upon myself, and an obligation which is drawing me from a homelikeplace and from soft arms wherein I was content enough," says Manuel,sighing.

  But the chivalrous adventurer in red armor was disgusted. "Oh, you tallsquinting villain knight of the silver stallion, I wonder from whosecourt you can be coming, where they teach no better behavior thanwoman-killing, and I wonder what foul new knavery you can be planninghere."

  "Why, I was last in residence at Raymond Berenger's court," says Manuel:"and since you are bent on knowing about my private affairs, I come tothis forest in search of Beda, or Kruchina, or whatever you call theMisery of earth in these parts."

  "Aha, and are you one of Raymond Berenger's friends?"

  "Yes, I suppose so," says Manuel, blinking,--"yes, I suppose so, since Ihave prevented his being poisoned."

  "This is good hearing, for I have always been one of Raymond Berenger'senemies, and all such of his friends as I have encountered I haveslain."

  "Doubtless you have your reasons", said Manuel, and would have riddenby.

  But the other cried furiously, "Turn, you tall fool! Turn, cowardlybetrayer of women!"

  He came upon Manuel like a whirlwind, and Manuel had no choice in thematter. So they fought, and presently Manuel brought the vermilionknight to the ground, and, dismounting, killed him. It was noticeablethat from the death-wound came no blood, but only a flowing of very fineblack sand, out of which scrambled and hastily scampered away a smallvermilion-colored mouse.

  Then Manuel said, "I think that this must be the peculiarly irrationalpart of the forest, to which I was directed, and I wonder what may havebeen this scarlet squabbler's grievance against King Raymond Berenger?"

  Nobody answered, so Manuel remounted, and rode on.

  Count Manuel skirted the Wolflake, and came to a hut, painted gray, thatstood clear of the ground, upon the bones of four great birds' feet.Upon the four corners of the hunt were carved severally the figures of alion, a dragon, a cockatrice and an adder, to proclaim the miseries ofcarnal and intellectual sin, and of pride, and of death.

  Here Manuel tethered his horse to a holm-oak. He raised both arms,facing the East.

  "Do you now speed me!" cried Manuel, "ye thirty Barami! O all ye powersof accumulated merit, O most high masters of Almsgiving, of Morality, ofRelinquishment, of Wisdom, of Fortitude, of Patience, of Truth, ofDetermination, of Charity, and of Equanimity! do all you aid me in myencounter with the Misery of earth!"

  He piously crossed himself, and went into the hut. Inside, the wallswere adorned with very old-looking frescoes that were equally innocentof perspective and reticence: the floor was of tessellated bronze. Ineach corner Manuel found, set upright, a many-storied umbrella of thekind used for sacred purposes in the East: each of these had a silverhandle, and was worked in nine colors. But most important of all, soManuel had been told, was the pumpkin which stood opposite to thedoorway.

  Manuel kindled a fire, and prepared the proper kind of soup: and atsunset he went to the window of the hut, and cried out three times thatsupper was ready.

  One answered him, "I am coming."

  Manuel waited. There was now no sound in the forest: even the few birdsnot yet gone south, that had been chirping of the day's adventures, werehushed on a sudden, and the breeze died in the tree-tops. Inside the hutManuel lighted his four candles, and he disposed of one under eachumbrella in the prescribed manner. His footsteps on the bronze flooring,and the rustling of his garments as he went about the hut doing what wasrequisite, were surprisingly sharp and distinct noises in a vast silenceand in an illimitable loneliness.

  Then said a thin little voice, "Manuel, open the door!"

  Manuel obeyed, and you could see nobody anywhere in the forest's dusk.The twilit brown and yellow trees were still as paintings. His horsestood tethered and quite motionless, except that it was shivering.

  One spoke at his feet. "Manuel, lift me over the threshold!"

  Dom Manuel, recoiling, looked downward, and in the patch of candlelightbetween the shadows of his legs you could see a human head. He raisedthe head, and carried it into the hut. He could now perceive that thehead was made of white clay, and could deduce that the Misery of earth,whom some call Beda, and others Kruchina, had come to him.

  "Now, Manuel," says Misery, "do you give me my supper."

  So Manuel set the head upon the table, and put a platter of soup beforethe head, and fed the soup to Misery with a gold spoon.

  When the head had supped, it bade Manuel place it in the little bamboocradle, and told Manuel to put out the lights. Many persons would nothave fancied being alone in the dark with Misery, but Manuel obeyed. Heknelt to begin his nightly prayer, but at once that happened whichinduced him to desist. So without his usual divine invocation, DomManuel lay down upon the bronze floor of the hut, beneath one of thetall umbrellas, and he rolled up his russet cloak for a pillow.Presently the head was snoring, and then Manuel too went to sleep. Hesaid, later, that he dreamed of Niafer.