Domnei A Comedy of Woman-Worship by Cabell, James Branch, 1879-1958

"You are very gay to-night, Messire de Puysange," said the Bishop of Montors.

This remarkable young man, it is necessary to repeat, had reached Bellegarde that evening, coming from Brunbelois. It was he (as you have heard) who had arranged the match with Theodoret. The bishop himself loved his cousin Melicent; but, now that he was in holy orders and possession of her had become impossible, he had cannily resolved to utilise her beauty, as he did everything else, toward his own preferment.

"Oh, sir," replied Perion, "you who are so fine a poet must surely know that _gay_ rhymes with _to-day_ as patly as _sorrow_ goes with _to-morrow_."

"Yet your gay laughter, Messire de Puysange, is after all but breath: and _breath_ also"--the bishop's sharp eyes fixed Perion's--"has a hackneyed rhyme."

"Indeed, it is the grim rhyme that rounds off and silences all our rhyming," Perion assented. "I must laugh, then, without rhyme or reason."

Still the young prelate talked rather oddly. "But," said he, "you have an excellent reason, now that you sup so near to heaven." And his glance at Melicent did not lack pith.

"No, no, I have quite another reason," Perion answered; "it is that to-morrow I breakfast in hell."

"Well, they tell me the landlord of that place is used to cater to each according to his merits," the bishop, shrugging, returned.

And Perion thought how true this was when, at the evening's end, he was alone in his own room. His life was tolerably secure. He trusted Ahasuerus the Jew to see to it that, about dawn, one of the ship's boats would touch at Fomor Beach near Manneville, according to their old agreement. Aboard the _Tranchemer_ the Free Companions awaited their captain; and the savage land they were bound for was a thought beyond the reach of a kingdom's lamentable curiosity concerning the whereabouts of King Helmas' treasure. The worthless life of Perion was safe.

For worthless, and far less than worthless, life seemed to Perion as he thought of Melicent and waited for her messenger. He thought of her beauty and purity and illimitable loving-kindness toward every person in the world save only Perion of the Forest. He thought of how clean she was in every thought and deed; of that, above all, he thought, and he knew that he would never see her any more.

"Oh, but past any doubting," said Perion, "the devil caters to each according to his merits."

3.

_How Melicent Wooed_

Then Perion knew that vain regret had turned his brain, very certainly, for it seemed the door had opened and Dame Melicent herself had come, warily, into the panelled gloomy room. It seemed that Melicent paused in the convulsive brilliancy of the firelight, and stayed thus with vaguely troubled eyes like those of a child newly wakened from sleep.