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You forget I have seen the hapless swine of Phobetor, and I know how he ameliorates the natural ferocity of his boar-pigs. No, I am Jurgen. So I remain. I will face the Philistines and whatever they may possibly do to me, rather than suffer that which Phobetor will quite certainly do to me." "Then I stay too," said Chloris. "No, woman dear !"
The condition, quoth Panurge, is very hard. Nevertheless, cost what price it will, or whatsoever come of it, I heartily condescend thereto; protesting that I shall to-morrow break my fast betimes after my somniatory exercitations. Furthermore, I recommend myself to Homer's two gates, to Morpheus, to Iselon, to Phantasus, and unto Phobetor.
If you come with me into the Woods, Uncle Phobetor in his impetuous way will quite certainly turn you into a boar-pig, because he has always done that to the people who irritated him " "I seem to recognise that reason." " But give me time, and I can get around Uncle Phobetor, just as I have always done, and he will turn you back."
I agree with Silenus: dullness will conquer dullness, and it will not matter. But do you, woman dear, take shelter with your kindred in the unconquerable Woods, for there is no telling what damage the Philistines may do hereabouts." "Will you go with me, Jurgen?" "My dear, you know very well that it is impossible for me ever again to go into the Woods, after the trick I played upon Phobetor."
"And if only you had kept your head about that bean-pole of a Helen, in her yellow wig for I have not a doubt that every strand of it is false, and at all events this is not a time to be arguing about it, Jurgen, why, then you would never have meddled with Uncle Phobetor! It simply shows you!" "Yes," said Jurgen. "Still, I do not know.
This much is known, that all day the clay head would be roving about the world, carrying envious reports, and devouring kingdoms, and stirring up patriotism and reform, and whispering malefic counsel, and bringing hurt and sorrow and despair and evil of every kind to men; and that in the evening, when at sunset Phobetor took over this lamentable work, Béda would return contentedly to Dun Vlechlan, for Manuel's services and a well-earned night's rest.
He had shifted into a less fanciful mood: and the shadow that followed him was ugly and hulking and wavering upon the cedarn wall of Queen Helen's sleeping-chamber. "Mine is a magic which does not fail," old Phobetor had said, while his attendants raised his eyelids so that he could see King Jurgen. Now Jurgen remembered this.
Then Jurgen dusted himself, and trudged home to an early supper with the Hamadryad who contented him. Economics of King Jurgen Now Jurgen's curious dream put notions into the restless head of Jurgen. Then Jurgen tricked Phobetor by an indescribable device, wherein surprising use was made of a cheese and three beetles and a gimlet, and so cheated Phobetor out of a gray magic.
Queen Helen, the delight of gods and men, replied nothing at all, because there was no need, inasmuch as the man who has once glimpsed her loveliness is beyond saving, and beyond the desire of being saved. "To-night," says Jurgen, "as once through the gray art of Phobetor, now through the will of Koshchei, it appears that you stand within arm's reach.
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