47.
The Vision of Helen
And for the third time Koshchei waved his hand. Now came to Jurgen agold-haired woman, clothed all in white. She was tall, and lovelyand tender to regard: and hers was not the red and white comelinessof many ladies that were famed for beauty, but rather it had theeven glow of ivory. Her nose was large and high in the bridge, herflexible mouth was not of the smallest; and yet, whatever otherpersons might have said, to Jurgen this woman's countenance was inall things perfect. And, beholding her, Jurgen kneeled.
He hid his face in her white robe: and he stayed thus, withoutspeaking, for a long while.
And again his voice broke. For the world seemed cheerless, and likea house that none has lived in for a great while.
Queen Helen, the delight of gods and men, replied nothing at all,because there was no need, inasmuch as the man who has once glimpsedher loveliness is beyond saving, and beyond the desire of beingsaved.
"To-night," says Jurgen, "as once through the gray art of Phobetor,now through the will of Koshchei, it appears that you stand withinarm's reach. Hah, lady, were that possible--and I know very well itis not possible, whatever my senses may report,--I am not fit tomate with your perfection. At the bottom of my heart, I no longerdesire perfection. For we who are tax-payers as well as immortalsouls must live by politic evasions and formulae and catchwords thatfret away our lives as moths waste a garment; we fall insensibly tocommon-sense as to a drug; and it dulls and kills whatever in us isrebellious and fine and unreasonable; and so you will find no man ofmy years with whom living is not a mechanism which gnaws away timeunprompted. For within this hour I have become again a creature ofuse and wont; I am the lackey of prudence and half-measures; and Ihave put my dreams upon an allowance. Yet even now I love you morethan I love books and indolence and flattery and the charitable winewhich cheats me into a favorable opinion of myself. What more can anold poet say? For that reason, lady, I pray you begone, because yourloveliness is a taunt which I find unendurable."
"Oh, I have failed my vision!" cries Jurgen. "I have failed, and Iknow very well that every man must fail: and yet my shame is no lessbitter. For I am transmuted by time's handling! I shudder at thethought of living day-in and day-out with my vision! And so I willhave none of you for my wife."
Then, trembling, Jurgen raised toward his lips the hand of her whowas the world's darling.
"And so farewell to you, Queen Helen! Oh, very long ago I found yourbeauty mirrored in a wanton's face! and often in a woman's face Ihave found one or another feature wherein she resembled you, and forthe sake of it have lied to that woman glibly. And all my verses, asI know now, were vain enchantments striving to evoke that hiddenloveliness of which I knew by dim report alone. Oh, all my life wasa foiled quest of you, Queen Helen, and an unsatiated hungering. Andfor a while I served my vision, honoring you with clean-handeddeeds. Yes, certainly it should be graved upon my tomb, 'Queen Helenruled this earth while it stayed worthy.' But that was very longago.
"And so farewell to you, Queen Helen! Hereafter I rove no morea-questing anything; instead, I potter after hearthside comforts,and play the physician with myself, and strive painstakingly to makeold bones. And no man's notion anywhere seems worth a cup of mulledwine; and for the sake of no notion would I endanger the routinewhich so hideously bores me. For I am transmuted by time's handling;I have become the lackey of prudence and half-measures; and it doesnot seem fair, but there is no help for it. So it is necessary thatI now cry farewell to you, Queen Helen: for I have failed in theservice of my vision, and I deny you utterly!"
Thus he cried farewell to the Swan's daughter: and Queen Helenvanished as a bright mist passes, not departing swiftly, as haddeparted Queen Guenevere and Queen Anaitis; and Jurgen was alonewith the black gentleman. And to Jurgen the world seemed cheerless,and like a house that none has lived in for a great while.