MARDI: AND A VOYAGE THITHER. BY HERMAN MELVILLE IN TWO VOLUMES VOL. II. 1864. MARDI CONTENTSVOL. II CHAPTER 1. Maramma 2. They land 3. They pass through the Woods 4. Hivohitee MDCCCXLVII 5. They visit the great Morai 6. They discourse of the Gods of Mardi, and Braid-Beard tells of one Foni 7. They visit the Lake of Yammo 8. They meet the Pilgrims at the Temple of Oro 9. They discourse of Alma10. Mohi tells of one Ravoo, and they land to visit Hevaneva, a flourishing Artisan11. A Nursery-tale of Babbalanja's12. Landing to visit Hivohitee the Pontiff; they encounter an extraordinary old Hermit; with whom Yoomy has a confidential Interview, but learns little13. Babbalanja endeavors to explain the Mystery14. Taji receives Tidings and Omens15. Dreams16. Media and Babbalanja discourse17. They regale themselves with their Pipes18. They visit an extraordinary old Antiquary19. They go down into the Catacombs20. Babbalanja quotes from an antique Pagan; and earnestly presses it upon the Company, that what he recites is not his but another's21. They visit a wealthy old Pauper22. Yoomy sings some odd Verses, and Babbalanja quotes from the old Authors right and left23. What manner of Men the Tapparians were24. Their adventures upon landing at Pimminee25. A, I, and O26. A Reception-day at Pimminee27. Babbalanja falleth upon Pimminee Tooth and Nail28. Babbalanja regales the Company with some Sandwiches29. They still remain upon the Rock30. Behind and Before31. Babbalanja discourses in the Dark32. My Lord Media summons Mohi to the Stand33. Wherein Babbalanja and Yoomy embrace34. Of the Isle of Diranda35. They visit the Lords Piko and Hello36. They attend the Games37. Taji still hunted and beckoned38. They embark from Diranda39. Wherein Babbalanja discourses of himself40. Of the Sorcerers in the Isle of Minda41. Chiefly of King Bello42. Dominora and Vivenza43. They land at Dominora44. Through Dominora, they wander after Yillah45. They behold King Bello's State Canoe46. Wherein Babbalanja bows thrice47. Babbalanja philosophizes, and my Lord Media passes round the Calabashes48. They sail round an Island without landing; and talk round a Subject without getting at it49. They draw nigh to Porpheero; where they behold a terrific Eruption50. Wherein King Media celebrates the Glories of Autumn; the Minstrel, the Promise of Spring51. In which Azzageddi seems to use Babbalanja for a Mouthpiece52. The charming Yoomy sings53. They draw nigh unto Land54. They visit the great central Temple of Vivenza55. Wherein Babbalanja comments upon the Speech of Alanno56. A Scene in the Land of Warwicks, or King-makers57. They hearken unto a Voice from the Gods58. They visit the extreme South of Vivenza59. They converse of the Molluscs, Kings, Toad-stools, and other Matters60. Wherein, that gallant Gentleman and Demi-god, King Media, Scepter in Hand throws himself into the Breach61. They round the stormy Cape of Capes62. They encounter Gold-hunters63. They seek through the Isles of Palms; and pass the Isles of Myrrh64. Concentric, inward, with Mardi's Reef, they leave their Wake around the World65. Sailing on66. A Sight of Nightingales from Yoomy's Mouth67. They visit one Doxodox68. King Media dreams69. After a long Interval, by Night they are becalmed70. They land at Hooloomooloo71. A Book from the "Ponderings of old Bardianna"72. Babbalanja starts to his Feet73. At last, the last Mention is made of old Bardianna; and His last Will and Testament is recited at Length74. A Death-cloud sweeps by them as they sail75. They visit the palmy King Abrazza76. Same pleasant, shady Talk in the Groves, between my Lords Abrazza and Media, Babbalanja, Mohi, and Yoomy... 77. They sup78. They embark79. Babbalanja at the Full of the Moon80. Morning81. L'Ultima sera82. They sail from Night to Day83. They land84. Babbalanja relates to them a Vision85. They depart from Serena86. They meet the Phantoms87. They draw nigh to Flozella88. They land89. They enter the Bower of Hautia90. Taji with Hautia91. Mardi behind: an Ocean before MARDI. CHAPTER IMaramma We were now voyaging straight for Maramma; where lived and reigned, inmystery, the High Pontiff of the adjoining isles: prince, priest, andgod, in his own proper person: great lord paramount over many kings inMardi; his hands full of scepters and crosiers. Soon, rounding a lofty and insulated shore, the great central peak ofthe island came in sight; domineering over the neighboring hills; thesame aspiring pinnacle, descried in drawing near the archipelago inthe Chamois. "Tall Peak of Ofo!" cried Babbalanja, "how comes it that thy shadow sobroods over Mardi; flinging new shades upon spots already shaded bythe hill-sides; shade upon shade!" "Yet, so it is, " said Yoomy, sadly, "that where that shadow falls, gayflowers refuse to spring; and men long dwelling therein become shadyof face and of soul. 'Hast thou come from out the shadows of Ofo?'inquires the stranger, of one with a clouded brow. " "It was by this same peak, " said Mohi, "that the nimble god Roo, agreat sinner above, came down from the skies, a very long time ago. Three skips and a jump, and he landed on the plain. But alas, poorRoo! though easy the descent, there was no climbing back. " "No wonder, then, " said Babbalanja, "that the peak is inaccessible toman. Though, with a strange infatuation, many still make pilgrimagesthereto; and wearily climb and climb, till slipping from the rocks, they fall headlong backward, and oftentimes perish at its base. " "Ay, " said Mohi, "in vain, on all sides of the Peak, various paths aretried; in vain new ones are cut through the cliffs and the brambles:--Ofo yet remains inaccessible. " "Nevertheless, " said Babbalanja, "by some it is believed, that those, who by dint of hard struggling climb so high as to become invisiblefrom the plain; that these have attained the summit; though othersmuch doubt, whether their be-coming invisible is not because of theirhaving fallen, and perished by the way. " "And wherefore, " said Media, "do you mortals undertake the ascent atall? why not be content on the plain? and even if attainable, whatwould you do upon that lofty, clouded summit? Or how can you hope tobreathe that rarefied air, unfitted for your human lungs?" "True, my lord, " said Babbalanja; "and Bardianna asserts that theplain alone was intended for man; who should be content to dwell underthe shade of its groves, though the roots thereof descend into thedarkness of the earth. But, my lord, you well know, that there arethose in Mardi, who secretly regard all stories connected with thispeak, as inventions of the people of Maramma. They deny that any thingis to be gained by making a pilgrimage thereto. And for warranty, theyappeal to the sayings of the great prophet Alma. " Cried Mohi, "But Alma is also quoted by others, in vindication of thepilgrimages to Ofo. They declare that the prophet himself was thefirst pilgrim that thitherward journeyed: that from thence he departedto the skies. " Now, excepting this same peak, Maramma is all rolling hill and dale, like the sea after a storm; which then seems not to roll, but to standstill, poising its mountains. Yet the landscape of Maramma has not themerriness of meadows; partly because of the shadow of Ofo, and partlybecause of the solemn groves in which the Morais and temples areburied. According to Mohi, not one solitary tree bearing fruit, not oneesculent root, grows in all the isle; the population wholly dependingupon the large tribute remitted from the neighboring shores. "It is not that the soil is unproductive, " said Mohi, "that thesethings are so. It is extremely fertile; but the inhabitants say thatit would be wrong to make a Bread-fruit orchard of the holy island. " "And hence, my lord, " said Babbalanja, "while others are charged withthe business of their temporal welfare, these Islanders take no thoughtof the morrow; and broad Maramma lies one fertile waste in the lagoon. " CHAPTER IIThey Land Coming close to the island, the pennons and trappings of our canoeswere removed; and Vee-Vee was commanded to descend from the shark'smouth; and for a time to lay aside his conch. In token of reverence, our paddlers also stripped to the waist; an example which even Mediafollowed; though, as a king, the same homage he rendered, was at timesrendered himself. At every place, hitherto visited, joyous crowds stood ready to hailour arrival; but the shores of Maramma were silent, and forlorn. Said Babbalanja, "It looks not as if the lost one were here. " At length we landed in a little cove nigh a valley, which Mohi calledUma; and here in silence we beached our canoes. But presently, there came to us an old man, with a beard white as themane of the pale horse. He was clad in a midnight robe. He fannedhimself with a fan of faded leaves. A child led him by the hand, forhe was blind, wearing a green plantain leaf over his plaited brow. Him, Media accosted, making mention who we were, and on what errand wecame: to seek out Yillah, and behold the isle. Whereupon Pani, for such was his name, gave us a courteous reception;and lavishly promised to discover sweet Yillah; declaring that inMaramma, if any where, the long-lost maiden must be found. He assuredus, that throughout the whole land he would lead us; leaving no place, desirable to be searched, unexplored. And so saying, he conducted us to his dwelling, for refreshment andrepose. It was large and lofty. Near by, however, were many miserable hovels, with squalid inmates. But the old man's retreat was exceedinglycomfortable; especially abounding in mats for lounging; his rafterswere bowed down by calabashes of good cheer. During the repast which ensued, blind Pani, freely partaking, enlargedupon the merit of abstinence; declaring that a thatch overhead, and acocoanut tree, comprised all that was necessary for the temporalwelfare of a Mardian. More than this, he assured us was sinful. He now made known, that he officiated as guide in this quarter of thecountry; and that as he had renounced all other pursuits to devotehimself to showing strangers the island; and more particularly thebest way to ascend lofty Ofo; he was necessitated to seek remunerationfor his toil. "My lord, " then whispered Mohi to Media "the great prophet Alma alwaysdeclared, that, without charge, this island was free to all. " "What recompense do you desire, old man?" said Media to Path. "What I seek is but little:--twenty rolls of fine tappa; two scoremats of best upland grass; one canoe-load of bread-fruit and yams; tengourds of wine; and forty strings of teeth;--you are a large company, but my requisitions are small. " "Very small, " said Mohi. "You are extortionate, good Pani, " said Media. "And what wants an agedmortal like you with all these things?" "I thought superfluities were worthless; nay, sinful, " said Babbalanja. "Is not this your habitation already more than abundantly suppliedwith all desirable furnishings?" asked Yoomy. "I am but a lowly laborer, " said the old man, meekly crossing hisarms, "but does not the lowliest laborer ask and receive his reward?and shall I miss mine?--But I beg charity of none. What I ask, Idemand; and in the dread name of great Alma, who appointed me aguide. " And to and fro he strode, groping as he went. Marking his blindness, whispered Babbalanja to Media, "My lord, methinks this Pani must be a poor guide. In his journeys inland, hislittle child leads him; why not, then, take the guide's guide?" But Pani would not part with the child. Then said Mohi in a low voice, "My lord Media, though I am noappointed guide; yet, will I undertake to lead you aright over allthis island; for I am an old man, and have been here oft by myself;though I can not undertake to conduct you up the peak of Ofo, and tothe more secret temples. " Then Pani said: "and what mortal may this be, who pretends to threadthe labyrinthine wilds of Maramma? Beware!" "He is one with eyes that see, " made answer Babbalanja. "Follow him not, " said Pani, "for he will lead thee astray; no Yillahwill he find; and having no warrant as a guide, the curses of Almawill accompany him. " Now, this was not altogether without effect; for Pani and his fathersbefore him had always filled the office of guide. Nevertheless, Media at last decided, that, this time, Mohi shouldconduct us; which being communicated to Pani, he desired us to removefrom his roof. So withdrawing to the skirt of a neighboring grove, welingered awhile, to refresh ourselves for the journey in prospect. As we here reclined, there came up from the sea-side a party ofpilgrims, but newly arrived. Apprized of their coming, Path and his child went out to meet them;and standing in the path he cried, "I am the appointed guide; in thename of Alma I conduct all pilgrims to the temples. " "This must be the worthy Path, " said one of the strangers, turningupon the rest. "Let us take him, then, for our guide, " cried they; and all drew near. But upon accosting him; they were told, that he guided none withoutrecompense. And now, being informed, that the foremost of the pilgrims was oneDivino, a wealthy chief of a distant island, Pani demanded of him hisrequital. But the other demurred; and by many soft speeches at length abated therecompense to three promissory cocoanuts, which he covenanted to sendPani at some future day. The next pilgrim accosted, was a sad-eyed maiden, in decent but scantyraiment; who without seeking to diminish Pani's demands promptlyplaced in his hands a small hoard of the money of Mardi. "Take it, holy guide, " she said, "it is all I have. " But the third pilgrim, one Fanna, a hale matron, in handsome apparel, needed no asking to bestow her goods. Calling upon her attendants toadvance with their burdens, she quickly unrolled them; and wound roundand round Pani, fold after fold of the costliest tappas; and filledboth his hands with teeth; and his mouth with some savory marmalade;and poured oil upon his head; and knelt and besought of him ablessing. "From the bottom of my heart I bless thee, " said Pani; and stillholding her hands exclaimed, "Take example from this woman, oh Divino;and do ye likewise, ye pilgrims all. " "Not to-day, " said Divino. "We are not rich, like unto Fauna, " said the rest. Now, the next pilgrim was a very old and miserable man; stone-blind, covered with rags; and supporting his steps with a staff. "My recompense, " said Path. "Alas! I have naught to give. Behold my poverty. " "I can not see, " replied Path; but feeling of his garments, he said, "Thou wouldst deceive me; hast thou not this robe, and this staff?" "Oh! Merciful Pani, take not my all!" wailed the pilgrim. But hisworthless gaberdine was thrust into the dwelling of the guide. Meanwhile, the matron was still enveloping Path in her interminabletappas. But the sad-eyed maiden, removing her upper mantle, threw it over thenaked form of the beggar. The fifth pilgrim was a youth of an open, ingenuous aspect; and withan eye, full of eyes; his step was light. "Who art thou?" cried Pani, as the stripling touched him in passing. "I go to ascend the Peak, " said the boy. "Then take me for guide. " "No, I am strong and lithesome. Alone must I go. " "But how knowest thou the way?" "There are many ways: the right one I must seek for myself. " "Ah, poor deluded one, " sighed Path; "but thus is it ever with youth;and rejecting the monitions of wisdom, suffer they must. Go on, andperish!" Turning, the boy exclaimed--"Though I act counter to thy counsels, ohPani, I but follow the divine instinct in me. " "Poor youth!" murmured Babbalanja. "How earnestly he struggles in hisbonds. But though rejecting a guide, still he clings to that legend ofthe Peak. " The rest of the pilgrims now tarried with the guide, preparing fortheir journey inland. CHAPTER IIIThey Pass Through The Woods Refreshed by our stay in the grove, we rose, and placed ourselvesunder the guidance of Mohi; who went on in advance. Winding our way among jungles, we came to a deep hollow, planted withone gigantic palm-shaft, belted round by saplings, springing from itsroots. But, Laocoon-like, sire and sons stood locked in the serpentfolds of gnarled, distorted banians; and the banian-bark, eating intotheir vital wood, corrupted their veins of sap, till all those palm-nuts were poisoned chalices. Near by stood clean-limbed, comely manchineels, with lustrous leavesand golden fruit. You would have deemed them Trees of Life; butunderneath their branches grew no blade of grass, no herb, nor moss;the bare earth was scorched by heaven's own dews, filtrated throughthat fatal foliage. Farther on, there frowned a grove of blended banian boughs, thick-ranked manchineels, and many a upas; their summits gilded by the sun;but below, deep shadows, darkening night-shade ferns, and mandrakes. Buried in their midst, and dimly seen among large leaves, all halberd-shaped, were piles of stone, supporting falling temples of bamboo. Thereon frogs leaped in dampness, trailing round their slime. Thickhung the rafters with lines of pendant sloths; the upas trees droppeddarkness round; so dense the shade, nocturnal birds found thereperpetual night; and, throve on poisoned air. Owls hooted from deadboughs; or, one by one, sailed by on silent pinions; cranes stalkedabroad, or brooded, in the marshes; adders hissed; bats smote thedarkness; ravens croaked; and vampires, fixed on slumbering lizards, fanned the sultry air. CHAPTER IVHivohitee MDCCCXLVIII Now, those doleful woodlands passed, straightway converse was renewed, and much discourse took place, concerning Hivohitee, Pontiff of theisle. For, during our first friendly conversation with Pani, Media hadinquired for Hivohitee, and sought to know in what part of the islandhe abode. Whereto Pani had replied, that the Pontiff would be invisible forseveral days to come; being engaged with particular company. And upon further inquiry, as to who were the personages monopolizinghis hospitalities, Media was dumb when informed, that they were noother than certain incorporeal deities from above, passing theCapricorn Solstice at Maramma. As on we journeyed, much curiosity being expressed to know more of thePontiff and his guests, old Mohi, familiar with these things, wascommanded to enlighten the company. He complied; and his recital wasnot a little significant, of the occasional credulity of chroniclers. According to his statement, the deities entertained by Hivohiteebelonged to the third class of immortals. These, however, were farelevated above the corporeal demi-gods of Mardi. Indeed, inHivohitee's eyes, the greatest demi-gods were as gourds. Littlewonder, then, that their superiors were accounted the most genteelcharacters on his visiting list. These immortals were wonderfully fastidious and dainty as to theatmosphere they breathed; inhaling no sublunary air, but that of theelevated interior; where the Pontiff had a rural lodge, for thespecial accommodation of impalpable guests; who were entertained atvery small cost; dinners being unnecessary, and dormitoriessuperfluous. But Hivohitee permitted not the presence of these celestial grandees, to interfere with his own solid comfort. Passing his mornings inhighly intensified chat, he thrice reclined at his ease; partaking ofa fine plantain-pudding, and pouring out from a calabash of celestialold wine; meanwhile, carrying on the flow of soul with his guests. Andtruly, the sight of their entertainer thus enjoying himself in theflesh, while they themselves starved on the ether, must have beenexceedingly provoking to these aristocratic and aerial strangers. It was reported, furthermore, that Hivohitee, one of the haughtiest ofPontiffs, purposely treated his angelical guests thus cavalierly; inorder to convince them, that though a denizen of earth; a sublunarian;and in respect of heaven, a mere provincial; he (Hivohitee) accountedhimself full as good as seraphim from the capital; and that too at theCapricorn Solstice, or any other time of the year. Strongly bent wasHivohitee upon humbling their supercilious pretensions. Besides, was he not accounted a great god in the land? supreme? havingpower of life and death? essaying the deposition of kings? anddwelling in moody state, all by himself, in the goodliest island ofMardi? Though here, be it said, that his assumptions of temporalsupremacy were but seldom made good by express interference with thesecular concerns of the neighboring monarchs; who, by force of arms, were too apt to argue against his claims to authority; however, intheory, they bowed to it. And now, for the genealogy of Hivohitee; foreighteen hundred and forty-seven Hivohitees were alleged to have gonebefore him. He came in a right line from the divine Hivohitee I. : theoriginal grantee of the empire of men's souls and the first swayer ofa crosier. The present Pontiff's descent was unquestionable; hisdignity having been transmitted through none but heirs male; the wholeprocession of High Priests being the fruit of successive marriagesbetween uterine brother and sister. A conjunction deemed incestuous insome lands; but, here, held the only fit channel for the puretransmission of elevated rank. Added to the hereditary appellation, Hivohitee, which simply denotedthe sacerdotal station of the Pontiffs, and was but seldom employed incurrent discourse, they were individualized by a distinctive name, bestowed upon them at birth. And the degree of consideration in whichthey were held, may be inferred from the fact, that during thelifetime of a Pontiff, the leading sound in his name was banned toordinary uses. Whence, at every new accession to the archiepiscopalthrone, it came to pass, that multitudes of words and phrases wereeither essentially modified, or wholly dropped. Wherefore, thelanguage of Maramma was incessantly fluctuating; and had become sofull of jargonings, that the birds in the groves were greatly puzzled;not knowing where lay the virtue of sounds, so incoherent. And, in a good measure, this held true of all tongues spokenthroughout the Archipelago; the birds marveling at mankind, andmankind at the birds; wondering how they could continually sing; when, for all man knew to the contrary, it was impossible they could beholding intelligent discourse. And thus, though for thousands ofyears, men and birds had been dwelling together in Mardi, theyremained wholly ignorant of each other's secrets; the Islanderregarding the fowl as a senseless songster, forever in the clouds; andthe fowl him, as a screeching crane, destitute of pinions and loftyaspirations. Over and above numerous other miraculous powers imputed to thePontiffs as spiritual potentates, there was ascribed to them onespecial privilege of a secular nature: that of healing with a touchthe bites of the ravenous sharks, swarming throughout the lagoon. Withthese they were supposed to be upon the most friendly terms; accordingto popular accounts, sociably bathing with them in the sea; permittingthem to rub their noses against their priestly thighs; playfullymouthing their hands, with all their tiers of teeth. At the ordination of a Pontiff, the ceremony was not deemed complete, until embarking in his barge, he was saluted High Priest by threesharks drawing near; with teeth turned up, swimming beside his canoe. These monsters were deified in Maramma; had altars there; it wasdeemed worse than homicide to kill one. "And what if they destroyhuman life?" say the Islanders, "are they not sacred?" Now many more wonderful things were related touching Hivohitee; andthough one could not but doubt the validity of many prerogativesascribed to him, it was nevertheless hard to do otherwise, thanentertain for the Pontiff that sort of profound consideration, whichall render to those who indisputably possess the power of quenchinghuman life with a wish. CHAPTER VThey Visit The Great Morai As garrulous guide to the party, Braid-Beard soon brought us nigh thegreat Morai of Maramma, the burial-place of the Pontiffs, and a ruralpromenade, for certain idols there inhabiting. Our way now led through the bed of a shallow water-course; Mohiobserving, as we went, that our feet were being washed at every step;whereas, to tread the dusty earth would be to desecrate the holyMorai, by transferring thereto, the base soil of less sacred ground. Here and there, thatched arbors were thrown over the stream, for theaccommodation of devotees; who, in these consecrated waters, issuingfrom a spring in the Morai, bathed their garments, that long life mightensue. Yet, as Braid-Beard assured us, sometimes it happened, thatdivers feeble old men zealously donning their raiment immediately afterimmersion became afflicted with rheumatics; and instances were relatedof their falling down dead, in this their pursuit of longevity. Coming to the Morai, we found it inclosed by a wall; and while therest were surmounting it, Mohi was busily engaged in the apparentlychildish occupation of collecting pebbles. Of these, however, to ourno small surprise, he presently made use, by irreverently throwingthem at all objects to which he was desirous of directing attention. In this manner, was pointed out a black boar's head, suspended from abough. Full twenty of these sentries were on post in the neighboringtrees. Proceeding, we came to a hillock of bone-dry sand, resting upon theotherwise loamy soil. Possessing a secret, preservative virtue, thissand had, ages ago, been brought from a distant land, to furnish asepulcher for the Pontiffs; who here, side by side, and sire by son, slumbered all peacefully in the fellowship of the grave. Mohideclared, that were the sepulcher to be opened, it would be theresurrection of the whole line of High Priests. "But a resurrection ofbones, after all, " said Babbalanja, ever osseous in his allusions tothe departed. Passing on, we came to a number of Runic-looking stones, all overhieroglyphical inscriptions, and placed round an elliptical aperture;where welled up the sacred spring of the Morai, clear as crystal, andshowing through its waters, two tiers of sharp, tusk-like stones; themouth of Oro, so called; and it was held, that if any secular handshould be immersed in the spring, straight upon it those stony jawswould close. We next came to a large image of a dark-hued stone, representing aburly man, with an overgrown head, and abdomen hollowed out, and openfor inspection; therein, were relics of bones. Before this image wepaused. And whether or no it was Mohi's purpose to make us touristsquake with his recitals, his revelations were far from agreeable. Atcertain seasons, human beings were offered to the idol, which being anepicure in the matter of sacrifices, would accept of no ordinary fare. To insure his digestion, all indirect routes to the interior wereavoided; the sacrifices being packed in the ventricle itself. Near to this image of Doleema, so called, a solitary forest-tree waspointed out; leafless and dead to the core. But from its boughs hangnumerous baskets, brimming over with melons, grapes, and guavas. Anddaily these baskets were replenished. As we here stood, there passed a hungry figure, in ragged raiment:hollow cheeks, and hollow eyes. Wistfully he eyed the offerings; butretreated; knowing it was sacrilege to touch them. There, they mustdecay, in honor of the god Ananna; for so this dead tree wasdenominated by Mohi. Now, as we were thus strolling about the Morai, the old chroniclerelucidating its mysteries, we suddenly spied Pani and the pilgrimsapproaching the image of Doleema; his child leading the guide. "This, " began Pani, pointing to the idol of stone, "is the holy godAnanna who lives in the sap of this green and flourishing tree. " "Thou meanest not, surely, this stone image we behold?" said Divino. "I mean the tree, " said the guide. "It is no stone image. " "Strange, " muttered the chief; "were it not a guide that spoke, Iwould deny it. As it is, I hold my peace. " "Mystery of mysteries!" cried the blind old pilgrim; "is it, then, astone image that Pani calls a tree? Oh, Oro, that I had eyes to see, that I might verily behold it, and then believe it to be what it isnot; that so I might prove the largeness of my faith; and so merit theblessing of Alma. " "Thrice sacred Ananna, " murmured the sad-eyed maiden, falling upon herknees before Doleema, "receive my adoration. Of thee, I know nothing, but what the guide has spoken. I am but a poor, weak-minded maiden, judging not for myself, but leaning upon others that are wiser. Thesethings are above me. I am afraid to think. In Alma's name, receive myhomage. " And she flung flowers before the god. But Fauna, the hale matron, turning upon Pani, exclaimed, "Receivemore gifts, oh guide. " And again she showered them upon him. Upon this, the willful boy who would not have Pani for his guide, entered the Morai; and perceiving the group before the image, walkedrapidly to where they were. And beholding the idol, he regarded itattentively, and said:--"This must be the image of Doleema; but I amnot sure. " "Nay, " cried the blind pilgrim, "it is the holy tree Ananna, thouwayward boy. " "A tree? whatever it may be, it is not that; thou art blind, old man. " "But though blind, I have that which thou lackest. " Then said Pani, turning upon the boy, "Depart from the holy Morai, andcorrupt not the hearts of these pilgrims. Depart, I say; and, in thesacred name of Alma, perish in thy endeavors to climb the Peak. " "I may perish there in truth, " said the boy, with sadness; "but itshall be in the path revealed to me in my dream. And think not, ohguide, that I perfectly rely upon gaining that lofty summit. I willclimb high Ofo with hope, not faith; Oh, mighty Oro, help me!" "Be not impious, " said Pani; "pronounce not Oro's sacred name toolightly. " "Oro is but a sound, " said the boy. "They call the supreme god, Ati, in my native isle; it is the soundless thought of him, oh guide, thatis in me. " "Hark to his rhapsodies! Hark, how he prates of mysteries, that noteven Hivohitee can fathom. " "Nor he, nor thou, nor I, nor any; Oro, to all, is Oro the unknown. " "Why claim to know Oro, then, better than others?" "I am not so vain; and I have little to substitute for what I can notreceive. I but feel Oro in me, yet can not declare the thought. " "Proud boy! thy humility is a pretense; at heart, thou deemest thyselfwiser than Mardi. " "Not near so wise. To believe is a haughty thing; my very doubtshumiliate me. I weep and doubt; all Mardi may be light; and I toosimple to discern. " "He is mad, " said the chief Divino; "never before heard I such words. " "They are thoughts, " muttered the guide. "Poor fool!" cried Fauna. "Lost youth!" sighed the maiden. "He is but a child, " said the beggar. These whims will soon depart;once I was like him; but, praise be to Alma, in the hour of sickness Irepented, feeble old man that I am!" "It is because I am young and in health, " said the boy, "that I morenourish the thoughts, that are born of my youth and my health. I amfresh from my Maker, soul and body unwrinkled. On thy sick couch, oldman, they took thee at advantage. " "Turn from the blasphemer, " cried Pani. "Hence! thou evil one, to theperdition in store. " "I will go my ways, " said the boy, "but Oro will shape the end. " And he quitted the Morai. After conducting the party round the sacred inclosure, assisting hisway with his staff, for his child had left him, Pani seated himself ona low, mossy stone, grimly surrounded by idols; and directed thepilgrims to return to his habitation; where, ere long he would rejointhem. The pilgrims departed, he remained in profound meditation; while, backward and forward, an invisible ploughshare turned up the longfurrows on his brow. Long he was silent; then muttered to himself, "That boy, that wild, wise boy, has stabbed me to the heart. His thoughts are my suspicions. But he is honest. Yet I harm none. Multitudes must have unspokenmeditations as well as I. Do we then mutually deceive? Off masks, mankind, that I may know what warranty of fellowship with others, myown thoughts possess. Why, upon this one theme, oh Oro! must alldissemble? Our thoughts are not our own. Whate'er it be, an honestthought must have some germ of truth. But we must set, as flows thegeneral stream; I blindly follow, where I seem to lead; the crowd ofpilgrims is so great, they see not there is none to guide. --It hingesupon this: Have we angelic spirits? But in vain, in vain, oh Oro! Iessay to live out of this poor, blind body, fit dwelling for mysightless soul. Death, death:--blind, am I dead? for blindness seems aconsciousness of death. Will my grave be more dark, than all is now?--From dark to dark!--What is this subtle something that is in me, andeludes me? Will it have no end? When, then, did it begin? All, all ischaos! What is this shining light in heaven, this sun they tell me of?Or, do they lie? Methinks, it might blaze convictions; but I brood andgrope in blackness; I am dumb with doubt; yet, 'tis not doubt, butworse: I doubt my doubt. Oh, ye all-wise spirits in the air, how canye witness all this woe, and give no sign? Would, would that mine werea settled doubt, like that wild boy's, who without faith, seems fullof it. The undoubting doubter believes the most. Oh! that I were he. Methinks that daring boy hath Alma in him, struggling to be free. Butthose pilgrims: that trusting girl. --What, if they saw me as I am?Peace, peace, my soul; on, mask, again. " And he staggered from the Morai. CHAPTER VIThey Discourse Of The Gods Of Mardi, And Braid-Beard Tells Of One Foni Walking from the sacred inclosure, Mohi discoursed of the plurality ofgods in the land, a subject suggested by the multitudinous idols wehad just been beholding. Said Mohi, "These gods of wood and of stone are nothing in number tothe gods in the air. You breathe not a breath without inhaling, youtouch not a leaf without ruffling a spirit. There are gods of heaven, and gods of earth; gods of sea and of land; gods of peace and of war;gods of rook and of fell; gods of ghosts and of thieves; of singersand dancers; of lean men and of house-thatchers. Gods glance in theeyes of birds, and sparkle in the crests of the waves; gods merrilyswing in the boughs of the trees, and merrily sing in the brook. Godsare here, and there, and every where; you are never alone for them. " "If this be so, Braid-Beard, " said Babbalanja, "our inmost thoughtsare overheard; but not by eaves-droppers. However, my lord, these godsto whom he alludes, merely belong to the semi-intelligibles, thedivided unities in unity, thin side of the First Adyta. " "Indeed?" said Media. "Semi-intelligible, say you, philosopher?" cried Mohi. "Then, prithee, make it appear so; for what you say, seems gibberish to me. " "Babbalanja, " said Media, "no more of your abstrusities; what know youmortals of us gods and demi-gods? But tell me, Mohi, how many of yourdeities of rock and fen think you there are? Have you no statisticaltable?" "My lord, at the lowest computation, there must be at least threebillion trillion of quintillions. " "A mere unit!" said Babbalanja. "Old man, would you express aninfinite number? Then take the sum of the follies of Mardi for yourmultiplicand; and for your multiplier, the totality of sublunarians, that never have been heard of since they became no more; and theproduct shall exceed your quintillions, even though all their unitswere nonillions. " "Have done, Babbalanja!" cried Media; "you are showing the sinistervein in your marble. Have done. Take a warm bath, and make tepid yourcold blood. But come, Mohi, tell us of the ways of this Maramma;something of the Morai and its idols, if you please. " And straightway Braid-Beard proceeded with a narration, in substanceas follows:-- It seems, there was a particular family upon the island, whosemembers, for many generations, had been set apart as sacrifices forthe deity called Doleema. They were marked by a sad and melancholyaspect, and a certain involuntary shrinking, when passing the Morai. And, though, when it came to the last, some of these unfortunates wentjoyfully to their doom, declaring that they gloried to die in theservice of holy Doleema; still, were there others, who audaciouslyendeavored to shun their fate; upon the approach of a festival, fleeing to the innermost wilderness of the island. But little availedtheir flight. For swift on their track sped the hereditary butler ofthe insulted god, one Xiki, whose duty it was to provide thesacrifices. And when crouching in some covert, the fugitive spiedXiki's approach, so fearful did he become of the vengeance of thedeity he sought to evade, that renouncing all hope of escape, he wouldburst from his lair, exclaiming, "Come on, and kill!" baring hisbreast for the javelin that slew him. The chronicles of Maramma were full of horrors. In the wild heart of the island, was said still to lurk the remnant ofa band of warriors, who, in the days of the sire of the presentpontiff, had risen in arms to dethrone him, headed by Foni, an upstartprophet, a personage distinguished for the uncommon beauty of hisperson. With terrible carnage, these warriors had been defeated; andthe survivors, fleeing into the interior, for thirty days were pursuedby the victors. But though many were overtaken and speared, a numbersurvived; who, at last, wandering forlorn and in despair, likedemoniacs, ran wild in the woods. And the islanders, who at timespenetrated into the wilderness, for the purpose of procuring rareherbs, often scared from their path some specter, glaring through thefoliage. Thrice had these demoniacs been discovered prowling about theinhabited portions of the isle; and at day-break, an attendant of theholy Morai once came upon a frightful figure, doubled with age, helping itself to the offerings in the image of Doleema. The demoniacwas slain; and from his ineffaceable tatooing, it was proved that thiswas no other than Foni, the false prophet; the splendid form he hadcarried into the rebel fight, now squalid with age and misery. CHAPTER VIIThey Visit The Lake Of Yammo From the Morai, we bent our steps toward an unoccupied arbor; andhere, refreshing ourselves with the viands presented by Borabolla, wepassed the night. And next morning proceeded to voyage round to theopposite quarter of the island; where, in the sacred lake of Yammo, stood the famous temple of Oro, also the great gallery of the inferiordeities. The lake was but a portion of the smooth lagoon, made separate by anarm of wooded reef, extending from the high western shore of theisland, and curving round toward a promontory, leaving a narrowchannel to the sea, almost invisible, however, from the land-lockedinterior. In this lake were many islets, all green with groves. Its main-shorewas a steep acclivity, with jutting points, each crowned with mossyold altars of stone, or ruinous temples, darkly reflected in thegreen, glassy water; while, from its long line of stately trees, thelow reef-side of the lake looked one verdant bluff. Gliding in upon Yammo, its many islets greeted us like a little Mardi;but ever and anon we started at long lines of phantoms in the water, reflections of the long line of images on the shore. Toward the islet of Dolzono we first directed our way; and there webeheld the great gallery of the gods; a mighty temple, resting on onehundred tall pillars of palm, each based, below the surface, on theburied body of a man; its nave one vista of idols; names carved ontheir foreheads: Ogre, Tripoo, Indrimarvoki, Parzillo, Vivivi, Jojijojorora, Jorkraki, and innumerable others. Crowds of attendants were new-grouping the images. "My lord, you behold one of their principal occupations, " said Mohi. Said Media: "I have heard much of the famed image of Mujo, the NursingMother;--can you point it out, Braid-Beard?" "My lord, when last here, I saw Mujo at the head of this file; butthey must have removed it; I see it not now. " "Do these attendants, then, " said Babbalanja, "so continually new-marshal the idols, that visiting the gallery to-day, you are at a lossto-morrow?" "Even so, " said Braid-Beard. "But behold, my lord, this image is Mujo. " We stood before an obelisk-idol, so towering, that gazing at it, wewere fain to throw back our heads. According to Mohi, winding stairsled up through its legs; its abdomen a cellar, thick-stored withgourds of old wine; its head, a hollow dome; in rude alto-relievo, itsscores of hillock-breasts were carved over with legions of babydeities, frog-like sprawling; while, within, were secreted wholelitters of infant idols, there placed, to imbibe divinity from theknots of the wood. As we stood, a strange subterranean sound was heard, mingled with agurgling as of wine being poured. Looking up, we beheld, througharrow-slits and port-holes, three masks, cross-legged seated in theabdomen, and holding stout wassail. But instantly upon descrying us, they vanished deeper into the interior; and presently was heard asepulchral chant, and many groans and grievous tribulations. Passing on, we came to an image, with a long anaconda-like posteriordevelopment, wound round and round its own neck. "This must be Oloo, the god of Suicides, " said Babbalanja. "Yes, " said Mohi, "you perceive, my lord, how he lays violent tailupon himself. " At length, the attendants having, in due order, new-deposed the longlines of sphinxes and griffins, and many limbed images, a band ofthem, in long flowing robes, began their morning chant. "Awake Rarni! awake Foloona! Awake unnumbered deities!" With many similar invocations, to which the images made not theslightest rejoinder. Not discouraged, however, the attendants nowseparately proceeded to offer up petitions on behalf of varioustribes, retaining them for that purpose. One prayed for abundance of rain, that the yams of Valapee might notwilt in the ground; another for dry sunshine, as most favorable forthe present state of the Bread-fruit crop in Mondoldo. Hearing all this, Babbalanja thus spoke:--"Doubtless, my lord Media, besides these petitions we hear, there are ten thousand contradictoryprayers ascending to these idols. But methinks the gods will not jarthe eternal progression of things, by any hints from below; even wereit possible to satisfy conflicting desires. " Said Yoomy, "But I would pray, nevertheless, Babbalanja; for prayerdraws us near to our own souls, and purifies our thoughts. Nor will Igrant that our supplications are altogether in vain. " Still wandering among the images, Mohi had much to say, concerningtheir respective claims to the reverence of the devout. For though, in one way or other, all Mardians bowed to the supremacyof Oro, they were not so unanimous concerning the inferior deities;those supposed to be intermediately concerned in sublunary things. Some nations sacrificed to one god; some to another; each maintaining, that their own god was the most potential. Observing that all the images were more or less defaced, Babbalanjasought the reason. To which, Braid-Beard made answer, that they had been thus defaced byhostile devotees; who quarreling in the great gallery of the gods, andgetting beside themselves with rage, often sought to pull down, anddemolish each other's favorite idols. "But behold, " cried Babbalanja, "there seems not a single imageunmutilated. How is this, old man?" "It is thus. While one faction defaces the images of its adversaries, its own images are in like manner assailed; whence it comes that noidol escapes. " "No more, no more, Braid-Beard, " said Media. "Let us depart, and visitthe islet, where the god of all these gods is enshrined. " CHAPTER VIIIThey Meet The Pilgrims At The Temple Of Oro Deep, deep, in deep groves, we found the great temple of Oro, Spreader-of-the-Sky, and deity supreme. While here we silently stood eyeing this Mardi-renowned image, thereentered the fane a great multitude of its attendants, holding pearl-shells on their heads, filled with a burning incense. And rangingthemselves in a crowd round Oro, they began a long-rolling chant, asea of sounds; and the thick smoke of their incense went up to theroof. And now approached Pani and the pilgrims; followed, at a distance, bythe willful boy. "Behold great Oro, " said the guide. "We see naught but a cloud, " said the chief Divino. "My ears are stunned by the chanting, " said the blind pilgrim. "Receive more gifts, oh guide!" cried Fauna the matron. "Oh Oro!invisible Oro! I kneel, " slow murmured the sad-eyed maid. But now, a current of air swept aside the eddying incense; and thewillful boy, all eagerness to behold the image, went hither andthither; but the gathering of attendants was great; and at last heexclaimed, "Oh Oro! I can not see thee, for the crowd that standsbetween thee and me. " "Who is this babbler?" cried they with the censers, one and allturning upon the pilgrims; "let him speak no more; but bow down, andgrind the dust where he stands; and declare himself the vilestcreature that crawls. So Oro and Alma command. " "I feel nothing in me so utterly vile, " said the boy, "and I cringe tonone. But I would as lief _adore_ your image, as that in my heart, forboth mean the same; but more, how can I? I love great Oro, though Icomprehend him not. I marvel at his works, and feel as nothing in hissight; but because he is thus omnipotent, and I a mortal, it followsnot that I am vile. Nor so doth he regard me. We do ourselves degradeourselves, not Oro us. Hath not Oro made me? And therefore am I notworthy to stand erect before him? Oro is almighty, but no despot. Iwonder; I hope; I love; I weep; I have in me a feeling nigh to fear, that is not fear; but wholly vile I am not; nor can we love andcringe. But Oro knows my heart, which I can not speak. " "Impious boy, " cried they with the censers, "we will offer thee up, before the very image thou contemnest. In the name of Alma, seize him. " And they bore him away unresisting. "Thus perish the ungodly, " said Pani to the shuddering pilgrims. And they quitted the temple, to journey toward the Peak of Ofo. "My soul bursts!" cried Yoomy. "My lord, my lord, let us save the boy. " "Speak not, " said Media. "His fate is fixed. Let Mardi stand. " "Then let us away from hence, my lord; and join the pilgrims; for, inthese inland vales, the lost one may be found, perhaps at the verybase of Ofo. " "Not there; not there;" cried Babbalanja, "Yillah may have touchedthese shores; but long since she must have fled. " CHAPTER IXThey Discourse Of Alma Sailing to and fro in the lake, to view its scenery, much discoursetook place concerning the things we had seen; and far removed from thecenser-bearers, the sad fate that awaited the boy was now the themeof all. A good deal was then said of Alma, to whom the guide, the pilgrims, and the censer-bearers had frequently alluded, as to some paramountauthority. Called upon to reveal what his chronicles said on this theme, Braid-Beard complied; at great length narrating, what now follows condensed. Alma, it seems, was an illustrious prophet, and teacher divine; who, ages ago, at long intervals, and in various islands, had appeared tothe Mardians under the different titles of Brami, Manko, and Alma. Many thousands of moons had elasped since his last and most memorableavatar, as Alma on the isle of Maramma. Each of his advents had takenplace in a comparatively dark and benighted age. Hence, it wasdevoutly believed, that he came to redeem the Mardians from theirheathenish thrall; to instruct them in the ways of truth, virtue, andhappiness; to allure them to good by promises of beatitude hereafter;and to restrain them from evil by denunciations of woe. Separated fromthe impurities and corruptions, which in a long series of centurieshad become attached to every thing originally uttered by the prophet, the maxims, which as Brami he had taught, seemed similar to thoseinculcated by Manko. But as Alma, adapting his lessons to the improvedcondition of humanity, the divine prophet had more completely unfoldedhis scheme; as Alma, he had made his last revelation. This narration concluded, Babbalanja mildly observed, "Mohi: withoutseeking to accuse you of uttering falsehoods; since what you relaterests not upon testimony of your own; permit me, to question thefidelity of your account of Alma. The prophet came to dissipateerrors, you say; but superadded to many that have survived the past, ten thousand others have originated in various constructions of theprinciples of Alma himself. The prophet came to do away all gods butone; but since the days of Alma, the idols of Maramma have more thanquadrupled. The prophet came to make us Mardians more virtuous andhappy; but along with all previous good, the same wars, crimes, andmiseries, which existed in Alma's day, under various modifications areyet extant. Nay: take from your chronicles, Mohi, the history of thosehorrors, one way or other, resulting from the doings of Alma's nominalfollowers, and your chronicles would not so frequently make mention ofblood. The prophet came to guarantee our eternal felicity; butaccording to what is held in Maramma, that felicity rests on so hard aproviso, that to a thinking mind, but very few of our sinful race maysecure it. For one, then, I wholly reject your Alma; not so much, because of all that is hard to be understood in his histories; asbecause of obvious and undeniable things all round us; which, to me, seem at war with an unreserved faith in his doctrines as promulgatedhere in Maramma. Besides; every thing in this isle strengthens myincredulity; I never was so thorough a disbeliever as now. " "Let the winds be laid, " cried Mohi, "while your rash confession isbeing made in this sacred lake. " Said Media, "Philosopher; remember the boy, and they that seized him. " "Ah! I do indeed remember him. Poor youth! in his agony, how my heartyearned toward his. But that very prudence which you deny me, my lord, prevented me from saying aught in his behalf. Have you not observed, that until now, when we are completely by ourselves, I have refrainedfrom freely discoursing of what we have seen in this island? Trust me, my lord, there is no man, that bears more in mind the necessity ofbeing either a believer or a hypocrite in Maramma, and the imminentperil of being honest here, than I, Babbalanja. And have I not reasonto be wary, when in my boyhood, my own sire was burnt for histemerity; and in this very isle? Just Oro! it was done in the name ofAlma, --what wonder then, that, at times, I almost hate that sound. Andfrom those flames, they devoutly swore he went to others, --horriblefable!" Said Mohi: "Do you deny, then, the everlasting torments?" "'Tis not worth a denial. Nor by formally denying it, will I run therisk of shaking the faith of, thousands, who in that pious belief findinfinite consolation for all they suffer in Mardi. " "How?" said Media; "are there those who soothe themselves with thethought of everlasting flames?" "One would think so, my lord, since they defend that dogma moreresolutely than any other. Sooner will they yield you the isles ofParadise, than it. And in truth, as liege followers of Alma, theywould seem but right in clinging to it as they do; for, according toall one hears in Maramma, the great end of the prophet's mission seemsto have been the revealing to us Mardians the existence of horrors, most hard to escape. But better we were all annihilated, than that oneman should be damned. " Rejoined Media: "But think you not, that possibly, Alma may have beenmisconceived? Are you certain that doctrine is his?" "I know nothing more than that such is the belief in this land. And inthese matters, I know not where else to go for information. But, mylord, had I been living in those days when certain men are said tohave been actually possessed by spirits from hell, I had not let slipthe opportunity--as our forefathers did--to cross-question themconcerning the place they came from. " "Well, well, " said Media, "your Alma's faith concerns not me: I am aking, and a demi-god; and leave vulgar torments to the commonality. " "But it concerns me, " muttered Mohi; "yet I know not what to think. " "For me, " said Yoomy, "I reject it. Could I, I would not believe it. It is at variance with the dictates of my heart instinctively my heartturns from it, as a thirsty man from gall. " "Hush; say no more, " said Mohi; "again we approach the shore. " CHAPTER XKohl Tells Of One Ravoo, And They Land To Visit Revaneva, AFlourishing Artisan Having seen all worth viewing in Yammo, we departed, to complete thecircumnavigation of the island, by returning to Uma without reversingour prows. As we glided along, we passed many objects of interest, concerning which, Mohi, as usual, was very diffuse. Among other things pointed out, were certain little altars, like mile-stones, planted here and there upon bright bluffs, running out intothe lagoon. Dedicated respectively to the guardian spirits of Maramma, these altars formed a chain of spiritual defenses; and here werepresumed to stand post the most vigilant of warders; dread Hivohitee, all by himself, garrisoning the impregnable interior. But these sentries were only subalterns, subject to the beck of thePontiff; who frequently sent word to them, concerning the duties oftheir watch. His mandates were intrusted to one Ravoo, the hereditarypontifical messenger; a long-limbed varlet, so swift of foot, that hewas said to travel like a javelin. "Art thou Ravoo, that thou sopliest thy legs?" say these islanders, to one encountered in a hurry. Hivohitee's postman held no oral communication with the sentries. Dispatched round the island with divers bits of tappa, hieroglyphically stamped, he merely deposited one upon each altar;superadding a stone, to keep the missive in its place; and so went hisrounds. Now, his route lay over hill and over dale, and over many a coralrock; and to preserve his feet from bruises, he was fain to wear asort of buskin, or boot, fabricated of a durable tappa, made from thethickest and toughest of fibers. As he never wore his buskins exceptwhen he carried the mail, Ravoo sorely fretted with his Hessians;though it would have been highly imprudent to travel without them. Tomake the thing more endurable, therefore, and, at intervals, to coolhis heated pedals, he established a series of stopping-places, orstages; at each of which a fresh pair of buskins, hanging from a tree, were taken down and vaulted into by the ingenious traveler. Thoserelays of boots were exceedingly convenient; next, indeed, to beinglifted upon a fresh pair of legs. "Now, to what purpose that anecdote?" demanded Babbalanja of Mohi, whoin substance related it. "Marry! 'tis but the simple recital of a fact; and I tell it toentertain the company. " "But has it any meaning you know of?" "Thou art wise, find out, " retorted Braid-Beard. "But what comes ofit?" persisted Babbalanja. "Beshrew me, this senseless catechising of thine, " replied Mohi;"naught else, it seems, save a grin or two. " "And pray, what may you be driving at, philosopher?" interrupted Media. "I am intent upon the essence of things; the mystery that liethbeyond; the elements of the tear which much laughter provoketh; thatwhich is beneath the seeming; the precious pearl within the shaggyoyster. I probe the circle's center; I seek to evolve theinscrutable. " "Seek on; and when aught is found, cry out, that we may run to see. " "My lord the king is merry upon me. To him my more subtle cogitationsseem foolishness. But believe me, my lord, there is more to be thoughtof than to be seen. There is a world of wonders insphered within thespontaneous consciousness; or, as old Bardianna hath it, a mysterywithin the obvious, yet an obviousness within the mystery. " "And did I ever deny that?" said Media. "As plain as my hand in the dark, " said Mohi. "I dreamed a dream, " said Yoomy. "They banter me; but enough; I am to blame for discoursing upon thedeep world wherein I live. I am wrong in seeking to invest sublunarysounds with celestial sense. Much that is in me is incommunicable bythis ether we breathe. But I blame ye not. " And wrapping round him hismantle, Babbalanja retired into its most private folds. Ere coming in sight of Uma, we put into a little bay, to pay ourrespects to Hevaneva, a famous character there dwelling; who, assistedby many journeymen, carried on the lucrative business of making idolsfor the surrounding isles. Know ye, that all idols not made in Maramma, and consecrated byHivohitee; and, what is more, in strings of teeth paid down for toHevaneva; are of no more account, than logs, stocks, or stones. Yetdoes not the cunning artificer monopolize the profits of his vocation;for Hevaneva being but the vassal of the Pontiff, the latter laysclaim to King Leo's share of the spoils, and secures it. The place was very prettily lapped in a pleasant dell, nigh to themargin of the water; and here, were several spacious arbors; wherein, prostrate upon their sacred faces, were all manner of idols, in everyimaginable stage of statuary development. With wonderful industry the journeymen were plying their tools;--somechiseling noses; some trenching for mouths; and others, with heatedflints, boring for ears: a hole drilled straight through the occiput, representing the auricular organs. "How easily they are seen through, " said Babbalanja, taking a sightthrough one of the heads. The last finish is given to their godships, by rubbing them all overwith dried slips of consecrated shark-skin, rough as sand paper, tacked over bits of wood. In one of the farther arbors, Hevaneva pointed out a goodly array ofidols, all complete and ready for the market. They were of everyvariety of pattern; and of every size; from that of a giant, to thelittle images worn in the ears of the ultra devout. "Of late, " said the artist, "there has been a lively demand for theimage of Arbino the god of fishing; the present being the principalseason for that business. For Nadams (Nadam presides over love andwine), there has also been urgent call; it being the time of thegrape; and the maidens growing frolicsome withal, and devotional. " Seeing that Hevaneva handled his wares with much familiarity, not tosay irreverence, Babbalanja was minded to learn from him, what hethought of his trade; whether the images he made were genuine orspurious; in a word, whether he believed in his gods. His reply was curious. But still more so, the marginal gestureswherewith he helped out the text. "When I cut down the trees for my idols, " said he, "they are nothingbut logs; when upon those logs, I chalk out the figures of, my images, they yet remain logs; when the chisel is applied, logs they are still;and when all complete, I at last stand them up in my studio, even thenthey are logs. Nevertheless, when I handle the pay, they are as primegods, as ever were turned out in Maramma. " "You must make a very great variety, " said Babbalanja. "All sorts, all sorts. " "And from the same material, I presume. " "Ay, ay, one grove supplies them all. And, on an average, each treestands us in full fifty idols. Then, we often take second-hand imagesin part pay for new ones. These we work over again into new patterns;touching up their eyes and ears; resetting their noses; and moreespecially new-footing their legs, where they always decay first. " Under sanction of the Pontiff, Hevaneva, in addition to his largecommerce in idols, also carried on the highly lucrative business ofcanoe-building; the profits whereof, undivided, he dropped into hisprivate exchequer. But Mohi averred, that the Pontiff often chargedhim with neglecting his images, for his canoes. Be that as it may, Hevaneva drove a thriving trade at both avocations. And in demonstrationof the fact, he directed our attention to three long rows of canoes, upheld by wooden supports. They were in perfect order; at a moment'snotice, ready for launching; being furnished with paddles, out-riggers, masts, sails, and a human skull, with a short handle thrust throughone of its eyes, the ordinary bailer of Maramma; besides otherappurtenances, including on the prow a duodecimo idol to match. Owing to a superstitious preference bestowed upon the wood and work ofthe sacred island, Hevaneva's canoes were in as high repute as hisidols; and sold equally well. In truth, in several ways one trade helped the other. The largerimages being dug out of the hollow part of the canoes; and all knottyodds and ends reserved for the idol ear-rings. "But after all, " said the artificer, "I find a readier sale for myimages, than for my canoes. " "And so it will ever be, " said Babbalanja. --"Stick to thy idols, man!a trade, more reliable than the baker's. " CHAPTER XIA Nursery-Tale Of Babbalanja's Having taken to our canoes once again, we were silently sailing along, when Media observed, "Babbalanja; though I seldom trouble myself withsuch thoughts, I have just been thinking, how difficult it must be, for the more ignorant sort of people, to decide upon what particularimage to worship as a guardian deity, when in Maramma, it seems, thereexists such a multitude of idols, and a thousand more are to be heardof. " "Not at all, your highness. The more ignorant the better. Themultitude of images distracts them not. But I am in no mood forserious discourse; let me tell you a story. " "A story! hear him: the solemn philosopher is desirous of regaling uswith a tale! But pray, begin. " "Once upon a time, then, " said Babbalanja, indifferently adjusting hisgirdle, "nine blind men, with uncommonly long noses, set out on theirtravels to see the great island on which they were born. " "A precious beginning, " muttered Mohi. "Nine blind men setting out tosee sights. " Continued Babbalanja, "Staff in hand, they traveled; one in advance ofthe other; each man with his palm upon the shoulder next him; and hewith the longest nose took the lead of the file. Journeying on in thismanner, they came to a valley, in which reigned a king called Tammaro. Now, in a certain inclosure toward the head of the valley, there stoodan immense wild banian tree; all over moss, and many centuries old, and forming quite a wood in itself: its thousand boughs striking intothe earth, and fixing there as many gigantic trunks. With Tammaro, ithad long been a question, which of those many trunks was the originaland true one; a matter that had puzzled the wisest heads among hissubjects; and in vain had a reward been offered for the solution ofthe perplexity. But the tree was so vast, and its fabric so complex;and its rooted branches so similar in appearance; and so numerous, from the circumstance that every year had added to them, that it wasquite impossible to determine the point. Nevertheless, no sooner didthe nine blind men hear that there was a reward offered fordiscovering the trunk of a tree, standing all by itself, than, one andall, they assured Tammaro, that they would quickly settle that littledifficulty of his; and loudly inveighed against the stupidity of hissages, who had been so easily posed. So, being conducted into theinclosure, and assured that the tree was somewhere within, theyseparated their forces, so as at wide intervals to surround it at adistance; when feeling their way, with their staves and their noses, they advanced to the search, crying out--'Pshaw! make room there; letus wise men feel of the mystery. ' Presently, striking with his noseone of the rooted branches, the foremost blind man quickly knelt down;and feeling that it struck into the earth, gleefully shouted: Here itis! here it is!' But almost in the same breath, his companions, also, each striking a branch with his staff or his nose, cried out in likemanner, 'Here it is! here it is!' Whereupon they were all confounded:but directly, the man who first cried out, thus addressed the rest:Good friends, surely you're mistaken. There is but one tree in theplace, and here it is. ' 'Very true, ' said the others, 'all together;there is only _one_ tree; but _here_ it is. ' 'Nay, ' said the others, 'it is _here!_' and so saying, each blind man triumphantly felt of thebranch, where it penetrated into the earth. Then again said the firstspeaker: Good friends, if you will not believe what I say, comehither, and feel for yourselves. ' 'Nay, nay, ' replied they, why seekfurther? _here_ it is; and nowhere else can it be. ' 'You blind fools, you, you contradict yourselves, ' continued the first speaker, waxingwroth; 'how can you each have hold of a separate trunk, when there isbut one in the place?' Whereupon, they redoubled their cries, callingeach other all manner of opprobrious names, and presently they fell tobeating each other with their staves, and charging upon each otherwith their noses. But soon after, being loudly called upon by Tammaroand his people; who all this while had been looking on; being loudlycalled upon, I say, to clap their hands on the trunk, they againrushed for their respective branches; and it so happened, that, oneand all, they changed places; but still cried out, '_Here_ it is;_here_ it is!' 'Peace! peace! ye silly blind men, ' said Tammaro. 'Willye without eyes presume to see more sharply than those who have them?The tree is too much for us all. Hence! depart from the valley. '" "An admirable story, " cried Media. "I had no idea that a mere mortal, least of all a philosopher, could acquit him-self so well. By myscepter, but it is well done! Ha, ha! blind men round a banian! Why, Babbalanja, no demi-god could surpass it. Taji, could you?" "But, Babbalanja, what under the sun, mean you by your blind story!"cried Mohi. "Obverse, or reverse, I can make nothing out of it. " "Others may, " said Babbalanja. "It is a polysensuum, old man. " "A pollywog!" said Mohi. CHAPTER XIILanding To Visit Hivohitee The Pontiff, They Encounter AnExtraordinary Old Hermit; With Whom Yoomy Has A ConfidentialInterview, But Learns Little Gliding on, suddenly we spied a solitary Islander putting out in hiscanoe from a neighboring cove. Drawing near, the stranger informed us, that he was just from the faceof the great Pontiff, Hivohitee, who, having dismissed his celestialguests, had retired to his private sanctuary. Upon this, Mediaresolved to land forthwith, and under the guidance of Mohi, proceedinland, and pay a visit to his Holiness. Quitting the beach, our path penetrated into the solitudes of thegroves. Skirting the way were tall Casaurinas, a species of cypress, standing motionless in the shadows, as files of mutes at a funeral. But here and there, they were overrun with the adventurous vines ofthe Convolvulus, the Morning-glory of the Tropics, whose tendrils, bruised by the twigs, dropped milk upon the dragon-like scales of thetrees. This vine is of many varieties. Lying perdu, and shunning the garishsun through the day, one species rises at night with the stars;bursting forth in dazzling constellations of blossoms, which close atdawn. Others, slumbering through the darkness, are up and abroad withtheir petals, by peep of morn; and after inhaling its breath, againdrop their lids in repose. While a third species, more capricious, refuse to expand at all, unless in the most brilliant sunshine, andupon the very tops of the loftiest trees. Ambitious flowers! that willnot blow, unless in high places, with the bright day looking on andadmiring. Here and there, we passed open glades in the woods, delicious with theincense of violets. Balsamic ferns, stirred by the breeze, fanned allthe air with aromas. These glades were delightful. Journeying on, we at length came to a dark glen so deftly hidden bythe surrounding copses, that were it not for the miasma thence wafted, an ignorant wayfarer might pass and repass it, time and again, neverdreaming of its vicinity. Down into the gloom of this glen we descended. Its sides were mantledwith noxious shrubs, whose exhalations, half way down, unpleasantlyblended with the piny breeze from the uplands. Through its bed ran abrook, whose incrusted margin had a strange metallic luster, from thepolluted waters here flowing; their source a sulphur spring, of vileflavor and odor, where many invalid pilgrims resorted. The woods all round were haunted by the dismal cawings of crows; tap, tap, the black hawk whetted his bill on the boughs; each trunk stalkeda ghost; and from those trunks, Hevaneva procured the wood for hisidols. Rapidly crossing this place, Yoomy's hands to his ears, old Mohi's tohis nostrils, and Babbalanja vainly trying to walk with closed eyes, we toiled among steep, flinty rocks, along a wild, zigzag pathway;like a mule-track in the Andes, not so much onward as upward; Yoomyabove Babbalanja, my lord Media above him, and Braid-Beard, our guide, in the air, above all. Strown over with cinders, the vitreous marl seemed tumbled together, as if belched from a volcano's throat. Presently, we came to a tall, slender structure, hidden among thescenic projections of the cliffs, like a monument in the dark, vaultedways of an abbey. Surrounding it, were five extinct craters. The airwas sultry and still, as if full of spent thunderbolts. Like a Hindoo pagoda, this bamboo edifice rose story above story; itsmany angles and points decorated with pearl-shells suspended by cords. But the uppermost story, some ten toises in the air, was closelythatched from apex to floor; which summit was gained by a series ofascents. What eremite dwelleth here, like St. Stylites at the top of hiscolumn?--a question which Mohi seemed all eagerness to have answered. Dropping upon his knees, he gave a peculiar low call: no response. Another: all was silent. Marching up to the pagoda, and again droppingupon his knees, he shook the bamboos till the edifice rocked, and itspearl-shells jingled, as if a troop of Andalusian mules, with bellsround their necks, were galloping along the defile. At length the thatch aloft was thrown open, and a head was thrustforth. It was that of an old, old man; with steel-gray eyes, hair andbeard, and a horrible necklace of jaw-bones. Now, issuing from the pagoda, Mohi turned about to gain a view of theghost he had raised; and no sooner did he behold it, than with KingMedia and the rest, he made a marked salutation. Presently, the eremite pointed to where Yoomy was standing; and wavedhis hand upward; when Mohi informed the minstrel, that it was St. Stylites' pleasure, that he should pay him a visit. Wondering what was to come, Yoomy proceeded to mount; and at lastarriving toward the top of the pagoda, was met by an opening, fromwhich an encouraging arm assisted him to gain the ultimate landing. Here, all was murky enough; for the aperture from which the head ofthe apparition had been thrust, was now closed; and what littletwilight there was, came up through the opening in the floor. In this dismal seclusion, silently the hermit confronted the minstrel;his gray hair, eyes, and beard all gleaming, as if streaked withphosphorus; while his ghastly gorget grinned hideously, with all itsjaws. Mutely Yoomy waited to be addressed; but hearing no sound, andbecoming alive to the strangeness of his situation, he meditatedwhether it would not be well to subside out of sight, even as he hadcome--through the floor. An intention which the eremite must haveanticipated; for of a sudden, something was slid over the opening; andthe apparition seating itself thereupon, the twain were in darknesscomplete. Shut up thus, with an inscrutable stranger posted at the only apertureof escape, poor Yoomy fell into something like a panic; hardly knowingwhat step to take next. As for endeavoring to force his way out, itwas alarming to think of; for aught he knew, the eremite, availinghimself of the gloom, might be bristling all over with javelin points. At last, the silence was broken. "What see you, mortal?" "Chiefly darkness, " said Yoomy, wondering at the audacity of thequestion. "I dwell in it. But what else see you, mortal?" "The dim gleaming of thy gorget. " "But that is not me. What else dost thou see?" "Nothing. " "Then thou hast found me out, and seen all! Descend. " And with that, the passage-way opened, and groping through thetwilight, Yoomy obeyed the mandate, and retreated; full of vexation athis enigmatical reception. On his alighting, Mohi inquired whether the hermit was not a wonderfulpersonage. But thinking some sage waggery lurked in the question; and at presenttoo indignant to enter into details, the minstrel made some impatientreply; and winding through a defile, the party resumed its journey. Straggling behind, to survey the strange plants and flowers in hispath, Yoomy became so absorbed, as almost to forget the scene in thepagoda; yet every moment expected to be nearing the stately abode ofthe Pontiff. But suddenly, the scene around grew familiar; the path seemed thatwhich had been followed just after leaving the canoes; and at length, the place of debarkation was in sight. Surprised that the object of our visit should have been thusabandoned, the minstrel ran forward, and sought an explanation. Whereupon, Mohi lifted his hands in amazement; exclaiming at theblindness of the eyes, which had beheld the supreme Pontiff ofMaramma, without knowing it. The old hermit was no other than the dread Hivohitee; the pagoda, theinmost oracle of the isle. CHAPTER XIIIBabbalanja Endeavors To Explain The Mystery This Great Mogul of a personage, then; this woundy Aliasuerus; thisman of men; this same Hivohitee, whose name rumbled among themountains like a peal of thunder, had been seen face to face, andtaken for naught, but a bearded old hermit, or at best, some equivocalconjuror. So great was his wonderment at the time, that Yoomy could not avoidexpressing it in words. Whereupon thus discoursed Babbalanja: "Gentle Yoomy, be not astounded, that Hivohitee is so far behind yourprevious conceptions. The shadows of things are greater thanthemselves; and the more exaggerated the shadow, the more unlike tothe substance. " "But knowing now, what manner of person Hivohitee is, " said Yoomy, "much do I long to behold him again. " But Mohi assured him it was out of the question; that the Pontiffalways acted toward strangers as toward him (Yoomy); and that but onedim blink at the eremite was all that mortal could obtain. Debarred thus from a second and more satisfactory interview with one, concerning whom his curiosity had been violently aroused, the minstrelagain turned to Mohi for enlightenment; especially touching thatmagnate's Egyptian reception of him in his aerial den. Whereto, the chronicler made answer, that the Pontiff affecteddarkness because he liked it: that he was a ruler of few words, butmany deeds; and that, had Yoomy been permitted to tarry longer withhim in the pagoda, he would have been privy to many strangeattestations of the divinity imputed to him. Voices would have beenheard in the air, gossiping with Hivohitee; noises inexplicableproceeding from him; in brief, light would have flashed out of hisdarkness. "But who has seen these things, Mohi?" said Babbalanja, "have you?" "Nay. " "Who then?--Media?--Any one you know?" "Nay: but the whole Archipelago has. " "Thus, " exclaimed Babbalanja, "does Mardi, blind though it be in manythings, collectively behold the marvels, which one pair of eyes seesnot. " CHAPTER XIVTaji Receives Tidings And Omens Slowly sailing on, we were overtaken by a shallop; whose inmatesgrappling to the side of Media's, said they came from Borabolla. Dismal tidings!--My faithful follower's death. Absent over night, that morning early, he had been discovered lifelessin the woods, three arrows in his heart. And the three pale strangerswere nowhere to be found. But a fleet canoe was missing from the beach. Slain for me! my soul sobbed out. Nor yet appeased Aleema's manes; noryet seemed sated the avengers' malice; who, doubtless, were on my track. But I turned; and instantly the three canoes had been reversed; andfull soon, Jarl's dead hand in mine, had not Media interposed. "To death, your presence will not bring life back. " "And we must on, " said Babbalanja. "We seek the living, not the dead. " Thus they overruled me; and Borabolla's messengers departed. Soon evening came, and in its shades, three shadows, --Hautia's heralds. Their shallop glided near. A leaf tri-foiled was first presented; then another, arrow-shaped. Said Yoomy, "Still I swiftly follow, behind revenge. " Then were showered faded, pallid daffodils. Said Yoomy, "Thy hopes are blighted all. " "Not dead, but living with the life of life. Sirens! I heed ye not. " They would have showered more flowers; but crowding sail we left them. Much converse followed. Then, beneath the canopy all sought repose. And ere long slouched sleep drew nigh, tending dreams innumerable;silent dotting all the downs a shepherd with his flock. CHAPTER XVDreams Dreams! dreams! golden dreams: endless, and golden, as the floweryprairies, that stretch away from the Rio Sacramento, in whose watersDanae's shower was woven;--prairies like rounded eternities: jonquilleaves beaten out; and my dreams herd like buffaloes, browsing on tothe horizon, and browsing on round the world; and among them, I dashwith my lance, to spear one, ere they all flee. Dreams! dreams! passing and repassing, like Oriental empires inhistory; and scepters wave thick, as Bruce's pikes at Bannockburn; andcrowns are plenty as marigolds in June. And far in the background, hazy and blue, their steeps let down from the sky, loom Andes onAndes, rooted on Alps; and all round me, long rushing oceans, rollAmazons and Oronocos; waves, mounted Parthians; and, to and fro, tossthe wide woodlands: all the world an elk, and the forests its antlers. But far to the South, past my Sicily suns and my vineyards, stretchesthe Antarctic barrier of ice: a China wall, built up from the sea, andnodding its frosted towers in the dun, clouded sky. Do Tartary andSiberia lie beyond? Deathful, desolate dominions those; bleak and wildthe ocean, beating at that barrier's base, hovering 'twixt freezingand foaming; and freighted with navies of ice-bergs, --warring worldscrossing orbits; their long icicles, projecting like spears to thecharge. Wide away stream the floes of drift ice, frozen cemeteries ofskeletons and bones. White bears howl as they drift from their cubs;and the grinding islands crush the skulls of the peering seals. But beneath me, at the Equator, the earth pulses and beats like awarrior's heart; till I know not, whether it be not myself. And mysoul sinks down to the depths, and soars to the skies; and comet-likereels on through such boundless expanses, that methinks all the worldsare my kin, and I invoke them to stay in their course. Yet, like amighty three-decker, towing argosies by scores, I tremble, gasp, andstrain in my flight, and fain would cast off the cables that hamper. And like a frigate, I am full with a thousand souls; and as on, on, on, I scud before the wind, many mariners rush up from the orlopbelow, like miners from caves; running shouting across my decks;opposite braces are pulled; and this way and that, the great yardsswing round on their axes; and boisterous speaking-trumpets are heard;and contending orders, to save the good ship from the shoals. Shoals, like nebulous vapors, shoreing the white reef of the Milky Way, against which the wrecked worlds are dashed; strewing all the strand, with their Himmaleh keels and ribs. Ay: many, many souls are in me. In my tropical calms, when my shiplies tranced on Eternity's main, speaking one at a time, then all withone voice: an orchestra of many French bugles and horns, rising, andfalling, and swaying, in golden calls and responses. Sometimes, when these Atlantics and Pacifics thus undulate round me, Ilie stretched out in their midst: a land-locked Mediterranean, knowingno ebb, nor flow. Then again, I am dashed in the spray of these sounds:an eagle at the world's end, tossed skyward, on the horns of the tempest. Yet, again, I descend, and list to the concert. Like a grand, ground swell, Homer's old organ rolls its vast volumesunder the light frothy wave-crests of Anacreon and Hafiz; and highover my ocean, sweet Shakespeare soars, like all the larks of thespring. Throned on my seaside, like Canute, bearded Ossian smites hishoar harp, wreathed with wild-flowers, in which warble my Wallers;blind Milton sings bass to my Petrarchs and Priors, and laureate crownme with bays. In me, many worthies recline, and converse. I list to St. Paul whoargues the doubts of Montaigne; Julian the Apostate cross-questionsAugustine; and Thomas-a-Kempis unrolls his old black letters for allto decipher. Zeno murmurs maxims beneath the hoarse shout ofDemocritus; and though Democritus laugh loud and long, and the sneerof Pyrrho be seen; yet, divine Plato, and Proclus, and, Verulam are ofmy counsel; and Zoroaster whispered me before I was born. I walk aworld that is mine; and enter many nations, as Mingo Park rested inAfrican cots; I am served like Bajazet: Bacchus my butler, Virgil myminstrel, Philip Sidney my page. My memory is a life beyond birth; mymemory, my library of the Vatican, its alcoves all endlessperspectives, eve-tinted by cross-lights from Middle-Age oriels. And as the great Mississippi musters his watery nations: Ohio, withall his leagued streams; Missouri, bringing down in torrents the clansfrom the highlands; Arkansas, his Tartar rivers from the plain;--so, with all the past and present pouring in me, I roll down my billowfrom afar. Yet not I, but another: God is my Lord; and though many satellitesrevolve around me, I and all mine revolve round the great centralTruth, sun-like, fixed and luminous forever in the foundationlessfirmament. Fire flames on my tongue; and though of old the Bactrian prophets werestoned, yet the stoners in oblivion sleep. But whoso stones me, shallbe as Erostratus, who put torch to the temple; though Genghis Khanwith Cambyses combine to obliterate him, his name shall be extant inthe mouth of the last man that lives. And if so be, down unto death, whence I came, will I go, like Xenophon retreating on Greece, allPersia brandishing her spears in his rear. My cheek blanches white while I write; I start at the scratch of mypen; my own mad brood of eagles devours me; fain would I unsay thisaudacity; but an iron-mailed hand clenches mine in a vice, and printsdown every letter in my spite. Fain would I hurl off this Dionysiusthat rides me; my thoughts crush me down till I groan; in far fields Ihear the song of the reaper, while I slave and faint in this cell. Thefever runs through me like lava; my hot brain burns like a coal; andlike many a monarch, I am less to be envied, than the veriest hind inthe land. CHAPTER XVIMedia And Babbalanja Discourse Our visiting the Pontiff at a time previously unforeseen, somewhataltered our plans. All search in Maramma for the lost one provingfruitless, and nothing of note remaining to be seen, we returned notto Uma; but proceeded with the tour of the lagoon. When day came, reclining beneath the canopy, Babbalanja would fainhave seriously discussed those things we had lately been seeing, which, for all the occasional levity he had recently evinced, seemedvery near his heart. But my lord Media forbade; saying that they necessarily included atopic which all gay, sensible Mardians, who desired to live and bemerry, invariably banished from social discourse. "Meditate as much as you will, " Babbalanja, "but say little aloud, unless in a merry and mythical way. Lay down the great maxims ofthings, but let inferences take care of themselves. Never be special;never, a partisan. In safety, afar off, you may batter down afortress; but at your peril you essay to carry a single turret byescalade. And if doubts distract you, in vain will you seek sympathyfrom your fellow men. For upon this one theme, not a few of you free-minded mortals, even the otherwise honest and intelligent, are theleast frank and friendly. Discourse with them, and it is mostlyformulas, or prevarications, or hollow assumption of philosophicalindifference, or urbane hypocrisies, or a cool, civil deference to thedominant belief; or still worse, but less common, a brutality ofindiscriminate skepticism. Furthermore, Babbalanja, on this head, final, last thoughts you mortals have none; nor can have; and, atbottom, your own fleeting fancies are too often secrets to yourselves;and sooner may you get another's secret, than your own. Thus with thewisest of you all; you are ever unfixed. Do you show a tropical calmwithout? then, be sure a thousand contrary currents whirl and eddywithin. The free, airy robe of your philosophy is but a dream, whichseems true while it lasts; but waking again into the orthodox world, straightway you resume the old habit. And though in your dreams youmay hie to the uttermost Orient, yet all the while you abide where youare. Babbalanja, you mortals dwell in Mardi, and it is impossible toget elsewhere. " Said Babbalanja, "My lord, you school me. But though I dissent fromsome of your positions, I am willing to confess, that this is not thefirst time a philosopher has been instructed by a man. " "A demi-god, sir; and therefore I the more readily discharge my mindof all seriousness, touching the subject, with which you mortals sovex and torment yourselves. " Silence ensued. And seated apart, on both sides of the barge, solemnlyswaying, in fixed meditation, to the roll of the waves, Babbalanja, Mohi, and Yoomy, drooped lower and lower, like funeral plumes; and ourgloomy canoe seemed a hearse. CHAPTER XVIIThey Regale Themselves With Their Pipes "Ho! mortals! mortals!" cried Media. "Go we to bury our dead? Awake, sons of men! Cheer up, heirs of immortality! Ho, Vee-Vee! bring forthour pipes: we'll smoke off this cloud. " Nothing so beguiling as the fumes of tobacco, whether inhaled throughhookah, narghil, chibouque, Dutch porcelain, pure Principe, orRegalia. And a great oversight had it been in King Media, to haveomitted pipes among the appliances of this voyage that we went. Tobacco in rouleaus we had none; cigar nor cigarret; which little thecompany esteemed. Pipes were preferred; and pipes we often smoked;testify, oh! Vee-Vee, to that. But not of the vile clay, of whichmankind and Etruscan vases were made, were these jolly fine pipes ofours. But all in good time. Now, the leaf called tobacco is of divers species and sorts. Not todwell upon vile Shag, Pig-tail, Plug, Nail-rod, Negro-head, Cavendish, and misnamed Lady's-twist, there are the following varieties:--Gold-leaf, Oronoco, Cimaroza, Smyrna, Bird's-eye, James-river, Sweet-scented, Honey-dew, Kentucky, Cnaster, Scarfalati, and famed Shiraz, or Persian. Of all of which, perhaps the last is the best. But smoked by itself, to a fastidious wight, even Shiraz is not gentleenough. It needs mitigation. And the cunning craft of so mitigatingeven the mildest tobacco was well understood in the dominions ofMedia. There, in plantations ever covered with a brooding, blue haze, they raised its fine leaf in the utmost luxuriance; almost as broad asthe broad fans of the broad-bladed banana. The stalks of the leafwithdrawn, the remainder they cut up, and mixed with soft willow-bark, and the aromatic leaves of the Betel. "Ho! Vee-Vee, bring forth the pipes, " cried Media. And forth theycame, followed by a quaint, carved cocoa-nut, agate-lidded, containingammunition sufficient for many stout charges and primings. Soon we were all smoking so hard, that the canopied howdah, underwhich we reclined, sent up purple wreaths like a Michigan wigwam. There we sat in a ring, all smoking in council--every pipe a halcyonpipe of peace. And among those calumets, my lord Media's showed like the turbanedGrand Turk among his Bashaws. It was an extraordinary pipe, be sure;of right royal dimensions. Its mouth-piece an eagle's beak; its longstem, a bright, red-barked cherry-tree branch, partly covered with aclose network of purple dyed porcupine quills; and toward the upperend, streaming with pennons, like a Versailles flag-staff of acoronation day. These pennons were managed by halyards; and afterlighting his prince's pipe, it was little Vee-Vee's part to run themup toward the mast-head, or mouthpiece, in token that his lord wasfairly under weigh. But Babbalanja's was of a different sort; an immense, black, serpentine stem of ebony, coiling this way and that, in endlessconvolutions, like an anaconda round a traveler in Brazil. Smokingthis hydra, Babbalanja looked as if playing upon the trombone. Next, gentle Yoomy's. Its stem, a slender golden reed, like musicalPan's; its bowl very merry with tassels. Lastly, old Mohi the chronicler's. Its Death's-head bowl forming itslatter end, continually reminding him of his own. Its shank was anostrich's leg, some feathers still waving nigh the mouth-piece. "Here, Vee-Vee! fill me up again, " cried Media, through the bluevapors sweeping round his great gonfalon, like plumed Marshal Ney, waving his baton in the smoke of Waterloo; or thrice gallant Anglesea, crossing his wooden eg mid the reek and rack of the Apsley Housebanquet. Vee-Vee obeyed; and quickly, like a howitzer, the pipe-owl wasreloaded to the muzzle, and King Media smoked on. "Ah! this is pleasant indeed, " he cried. "Look, it's a calm on thewaters, and a calm in our hearts, as we inhale these sedative odors. " "So calm, " said Babbalanja; "the very gods must be smoking now. " "And thus, " said Media, "we demi-gods hereafter shall cross-leggedsit, and smoke out our eternities. Ah, what a glorious puff! Mortals, methinks these pipe-bowls of ours must be petrifactions of roses, soscented they seem. But, old Mohi, you have smoked this many a longyear; doubtless, you know something about their material--the Froth-of-the-Sea they call it, I think--ere my handicraft subjects obtainit, to work into bowls. Tell us the tale. " "Delighted to do so, my lord, " replied Mohi, slowly disentangling hismouth-piece from the braids of his beard. "I have devoted much timeand attention to the study of pipe-bowls, and groped among manylearned authorities, to reconcile the clashing opinions concerning theorigin of the so-called Farnoo, or Froth-of-the-Sea. " "Well, then, my old centenarian, give us the result of yourinvestigations. But smoke away: a word and a puff go on. " "May it please you, then, my right worshipful lord, this Farnoo is anunctuous, argillaceous substance; in its natural state, soft, malleable, and easily worked as the cornelian-red clay from the famouspipe-quarries of the wild tribes to the North. But though mostly foundburied in terra-firma, especially in the isles toward the East, thisFarnoo, my lord, is sometimes thrown up by the ocean; in seasons ofhigh sea, being plentifully found on the reefs. But, my lord, likeamber, the precise nature and origin of this Farnoo are points widelymooted. " "Stop there!" cried Media; "our mouth-pieces are of amber; so, not aword more of the Froth-of-the-Sea, until something be said to clear upthe mystery of amber. What is amber, old man?" "A still more obscure thing to trace than the other, my worshipfullord. Ancient Plinnee maintained, that originally it must be a juice, exuding from balsam firs and pines; Borhavo, that, like camphor, it isthe crystalized oil of aromatic ferns; Berzilli, that it is theconcreted scum of the lake Cephioris; and Vondendo, against scores ofantagonists, stoutly held it a sort of bituminous gold, trickling fromantediluvian smugglers' caves, nigh the sea. " "Why, old Braid-Beard, " cried Media, placing his pipe in rest, "youare almost as erudite as our philosopher here. " "Much more so, my lord, " said Babbalanja; "for Mohi has somehow pickedup all my worthless forgettings, which are more than my valuablerememberings. " "What say you, wise one?" cried Mohi, shaking his braids, like anenraged elephant with many trunks. Said Yoomy: "My lord, I have heard that amber is nothing less than thecongealed tears of broken-hearted mermaids. " "Absurd, minstrel, " cried Mohi. "Hark ye; I know what it is. All otherauthorities to the contrary, amber is nothing more than gold-fishes'brains, made waxy, then firm, by the action of the sea. " "Nonsense!" cried Yoomy. "My lord, " said Braid-Beard, waving his pipe, this thing is just as Isay. Imbedded in amber, do we not find little fishes' fins, porpoise-teeth, sea-gulls' beaks and claws; nay, butterflies' wings, andsometimes a topaz? And how could that be, unless the substance wasfirst soft? Amber is gold-fishes' brains, I say. " "For one, " said Babbalanja, "I'll not believe that, till you prove tome, Braid-Beard, that ideas themselves are found imbedded therein. " "Another of your crazy conceits, philosopher, " replied Mohi, disdainfully; "yet, sometimes plenty of strange black-lettercharacters have been discovered in amber. " And throwing back his hoaryold head, he jetted forth his vapors like a whale. "Indeed?" cried Babbalanja. "Then, my lord Media, it may be earnestlyinquired, whether the gentle laws of the tribes before the flood, werenot sought to be embalmed and perpetuated between transparent andsweet scented tablets of amber. " "That, now, is not so unlikely, " said Mohi; "for old King Rondo theRound once set about getting him a coffin-lid of amber; much desiringa famous mass of it owned by the ancestors of Donjalolo of Juam. Butno navies could buy it. So Rondo had himself urned in a crystal. " "And that immortalized Rondo, no doubt, " said Babbalanja. "Ha! ha!pity he fared not like the fat porpoise frozen and tombed in aniceberg; its icy shroud drifting south, soon melted away, and down, out of sight, sunk the dead. " "Well, so much for amber, " cried Media. "Now, Mohi, go on aboutFarnoo. " "Know, then, my lord, that Farnoo is more like ambergris than amber. " "Is it? then, pray, tell us something on that head. You know all aboutambergris, too, I suppose. " "Every thing about all things, my lord. Ambergris is found both onland and at sea. But especially, are lumps of it picked up on thespicy coasts of Jovanna; indeed, all over the atolls and reefs in theeastern quarter of Mardi. " "But what is this ambergris? Braid-Beard, " said Babbalanja. "Aquovi, the chymist, pronounced it the fragments of mushrooms growingat the bottom of the sea; Voluto held, that like naptha, it springsfrom fountains down there. But it is neither. " "I have heard, " said Yoomy, "that it is the honey-comb of bees, fallenfrom flowery cliffs into the brine. " "Nothing of the kind, " said Mohi. "Do I not know all about it, minstrel? Ambergris is the petrified gall-stones of crocodiles. " "What!" cried Babbalanja, "comes sweet scented ambergris from thosemusky and chain-plated river cavalry? No wonder, then, their flesh isso fragrant; their upper jaws as the visors of vinaigrettes. " "Nay, you are all wrong, " cried King Media. Then, laughing to himself:--"It's pleasant to sit by, a demi-god, andhear the surmisings of mortals, upon things they know nothing about;theology, or amber, or ambergris, it's all the same. But then, did Ialways out with every thing I know, there would be no conversing withthese comical creatures. "Listen, old Mohi; ambergris is a morbid secretion of the Spermacetiwhale; for like you mortals, the whale is at times a sort ofhypochondriac and dyspeptic. You must know, subjects, that inantediluvian times, the Spermaceti whale was much hunted by sportsmen, that being accounted better pastime, than pursuing the Behemoths onshore. Besides, it was a lucrative diversion. Now, sometimes uponstriking the monster, it would start off in a dastardly fright, leaving certain fragments in its wake. These fragments the hunterspicked up, giving over the chase for a while. For in those days, asnow, a quarter-quintal of ambergris was more valuable than a whole tonof spermaceti. " "Nor, my lord, " said Babbalanja, "would it have been wise to kill thefish that dropped such treasures: no more than to murder the noddythat laid the golden eggs. " "Beshrew me! a noddy it must have been, " gurgled Mohi through hispipe-stem, "to lay golden eggs for others to hatch. " "Come, no more of that now, " cried Media. "Mohi, how long think you, may one of these pipe-bowls last?" "My lord, like one's cranium, it will endure till broken. I havesmoked this one of mine more than half a century. " "But unlike our craniums, stocked full of concretions, " saidBabbalanja, our pipe-bowls never need clearing out. " "True, " said Mohi, "they absorb the oil of the smoke, instead ofallowing it offensively to incrust. " "Ay, the older the better, " said Media, "and the more delicious theflavor imparted to the fumes inhaled. " "Farnoos forever! my lord, " cried Yoomy. "By much smoking, the bowlwaxes russet and mellow, like the berry-brown cheek of a sunburntbrunette. " "And as like smoked hams, " cried Braid-Beard, "we veteran old smokersgrow browner and browner; hugely do we admire to see our jolly nosesand pipe-bowls mellowing together. " "Well said, old man, " cried Babbalanja; "for, like a good wife, a pipeis a friend and companion for life. And whoso weds with a pipe, is nolonger a bachelor. After many vexations, he may go home to thatfaithful counselor, and ever find it full of kind consolations andsuggestions. But not thus with cigars or cigarrets: the acquaintancesof a moment, chatted with in by-places, whenever they come handy;their existence so fugitive, uncertain, unsatisfactory. Once ignited, nothing like longevity pertains to them. They never grow old. Why, mylord, the stump of a cigarret is an abomination; and two of themcrossed are more of a _memento-mori_, than a brace of thigh-bones atright angles. " "So they are, so they are, " cried King Media. "Then, mortals, puff weaway at our pipes. Puff, puff, I say. Ah! how we puff! But thus wedemi-gods ever puff at our ease. " "Puff; puff, how we puff, " cried Babbalanja. "but life itself is apuff and a wheeze. Our lungs are two pipes which we constantly smoke. " "Puff, puff! how we puff, " cried old Mohi. "All thought is a puff. " "Ay, " said Babbalanja, "not more smoke in that skull-bowl of yoursthan in the skull on your shoulders: both ends alike. " "Puff! puff! how we puff, " cried Yoomy. "But in every puff, therehangs a wreath. In every puff, off flies a care. " "Ay, there they go, " cried Mohi, "there goes another--and, there, andthere;--this is the way to get rid of them my worshipful lord; puffthem aside. " "Yoomy, " said Media, "give us that pipe song of thine. Sing it, mysweet and pleasant poet. We'll keep time with the flageolets of ours. " "So with pipes and puffs for a chorus, thus Yoomy sang:-- Care is all stuff:-- Puff! Puff: To puff is enough:-- Puff! Puff! More musky than snuff, And warm is a puff:-- Puff! Puff! Here we sit mid our puffs, Like old lords in their ruffs, Snug as bears in their muffs:-- Puff! Puff! Then puff, puff, puff; For care is all stuff, Puffed off in a puff:-- Puff! Puff! "Ay, puff away, " cried Babbalanja, "puff; puff, so we are born, and sodie. Puff, puff, my volcanos: the great sun itself will yet go out ina snuff, and all Mardi smoke out its last wick. " "Puffs enough, " said King Media, "Vee-Vee! haul down my flag. There, lie down before me, oh Gonfalon! and, subjects, hear, --when I die, laythis spear on my right, and this pipe on my left, its colors at halfmast; so shall I be ambidexter, and sleep between eloquent symbols. " CHAPTER XVIIIThey Visit An Extraordinary Old Antiquary "About prows there, ye paddlers, " cried Media. "In this fog we've beenraising, we have sailed by Padulla, our destination. " Now Padulla, was but a little island, tributary to a neighboring king;its population embracing some hundreds of thousands of leaves, andflowers, and butterflies, yet only two solitary mortals; one, famousas a venerable antiquarian: a collector of objects of Mardian vertu; acognoscenti, and dilettante in things old and marvelous; and for thatreason, very choice of himself. He went by the exclamatory cognomen of "Oh-Oh;" a name bestowed uponhim, by reason of the delighted interjections, with which he welcomedall accessions to his museum. Now, it was to obtain a glimpse of this very museum, that Media wasanxious to touch at Padulla. Landing, and passing through a grove, we were accosted by Oh-Ohhimself; who, having heard the shouts of our paddlers, had salliedforth, staff in hand. The old man was a sight to see; especially his nose; a remarkable one. And all Mardi over, a remarkable nose is a prominent feature: an everobvious passport to distinction. For, after all, this gaining a name, is but the individualizing of a man; as well achieved by anextraordinary nose, as by an extraordinary epic. Far better, indeed;for you may pass poets without knowing them. Even a hero, is no herowithout his sword; nor Beelzebub himself a lion, minus that lasso-tailof his, wherewith he catches his prey. Whereas, he who is famousthrough his nose, it is impossible to overlook. He is a celebritywithout toiling for a name. Snugly ensconced behind his proboscis, herevels in its shadow, receiving tributes of attention wherever he goes. Not to enter at large upon the topography of Oh-Oh's nasal organ, allmust be content with this; that it was of a singular magnitude, andboldly aspiring at the end; an exclamation point in the face of thewearer, forever wondering at the visible universe. The eyes of Oh-Ohwere like the creature's that the Jew abhors: placed slanting in hishead, and converging their rays toward the mouth; which was no Mouth, but a gash. I mean not to be harsh, or unpleasant upon thee, Oh-Oh; but I mustpaint thee as thou wert. The rest of his person was crooked, and dwarfed, and surmounted by ahump, that sat on his back like a burden. And a weary load is a hump, Heaven knows, only to be cast off in the grave. Thus old, and antiquated, and gable-ended, was the tabernacle of Oh-Oh's soul. But his person was housed in as curious a structure. Builtof old boughs of trees blown down in the groves, and covered over withunruly thatching, it seemed, without, some ostrich nest. But within, so intricate, and grotesque, its brown alleys and cells, that theinterior of no walnut was more labyrinthine. And here, strewn about, all dusty and disordered, were the preciousantiques, and curios, and obsoletes, which to Oh-Oh were dear as theapple of his eye, or the memory of departed days. The old man was exceedingly importunate, in directing attention to hisrelics; concerning each of which, he had an endless story to tell. Time would fail; nay, patience, to repeat his legends. So, in order, here follow the most prominent of his rarities:-- The identical Canoe, in which, ages back, the god Unja came from the bottom of the sea. (Very ponderous; of lignum-vitae wood). A stone Flower-pot, containing in the original soil, Unja's last footprints, when he embarked from Mardi for parts unknown. (One foot-print unaccountably reversed). The Jaw-bones of Tooroorooloo, a great orator in the days of Unja. (Somewhat twisted). A quaint little Fish-hook. (Made from the finger-bones of Kravi the Cunning). The mystic Gourd; carved all over with cabalistic triangles, and hypogrifs; by study of which a reputed prophet, was said to have obtained his inspiration. (Slightly redolent of vineyards). The complete Skeleton of an immense Tiger-shark; the bones of a Pearl-shell-diver's leg inside. (Picked off the reef at low tide). An inscrutable, shapeless block of a mottled-hued, smoke-dried wood. (Three unaccountable holes drilled through the middle). A sort of ecclesiastical Fasces, being the bony blades of nine sword- fish, basket-hilted with shark's jaws, braided round and tasseled with cords of human hair. (Now obsolete). The mystic Fan with which Unja fanned himself when in trouble. (Woven from the leaves of the Water-Lily). A Tripod of a Stork's Leg, supporting a nautilus shell, containing the fragments of a bird's egg; into which, was said to have been magically decanted the soul of a deceased chief. (Unfortunately crushed in by atmospheric pressure). Two clasped Right Hands, embalmed; being those of twin warriors, who thus died on a battle-field. (Impossible to sunder). A curious Pouch, or Purse, formed from the skin of an Albatross' foot, and decorated with three sharp claws, naturally pertaining to it. (Originally the property of a notorious old Tooth-per-Tooth). A long tangled lock of Mermaid's Hair, much resembling the curling silky fibres of the finer sea-weed. (Preserved between fins of the dolphin). A Mermaid's Comb for the toilet. The stiff serrated crest of a Cook Storm-petrel (Oh-Oh was particularly curious concerning Mermaids). Files, Rasps, and Pincers, all bone, the implements of an eminent Chiropedist, who flourished his tools before the flood. (Owing to the excessive unevenness of the surface in those times, the diluvians were peculiarly liable to pedal afflictions). The back Tooth, that Zozo the Enthusiast, in token of grief, recklessly knocked out at the decease of a friend. (Worn to a stump and quite useless). These wonders inspected, Oh-Oh conducted us to an arbor, to show usthe famous telescope, by help of which, he said he had discovered anant-hill in the moon. It rested in the crotch of a Bread-fruit tree;and was a prodigiously long and hollow trunk of a Palm; a scale from asea-kraken its lens. Then returning to his cabinet, he pointed to a bamboo microscope, which had wonderfully assisted him in his entomological pursuits. "By this instrument, my masters, " said he, "I have satisfied myself, that in the eye of a dragon-fly there are precisely twelve thousandfive hundred and forty-one triangular lenses; and in the leg of aflea, scores on scores of distinct muscles. Now, my masters, how farthink you a flea may leap at one spring? Why, two hundred times itsown length; I have often measured their leaps, with a small measure Iuse for scientific purposes. " "Truly, Oh-Oh, " said Babbalanja, "your discoveries must ere longresult in something grand; since you furnish such invaluable data fortheorists. Pray, attend, my lord Media. If, at one spring, a flealeaps two hundred times its own length, then, with the like proportionof muscles in his calves, a bandit might pounce upon the unwarytraveler from a quarter of a mile off. Is it not so, Oh-Oh?" "Indeed, but it is, my masters. And one of the greatest consolations Idraw from these studies, is the ever-strengthening conviction of thebeneficent wisdom that framed our Mardi. For did men possess thighs inproportion to fleas, verily, the wicked would grievously leap about, and curvet in the isles. " "But Oh-Oh, " said Babbalanja, "what other discoveries have you made?Hast yet put a usurer under your lens, to find his conscience? or alibertine, to find his heart? Hast yet brought your microscope to bearupon a downy peach, or a rosy cheek?" "I have, " said Oh-Oh, mournfully; "and from the moment I so did, Ihave had no heart to eat a peach, or salute a cheek. " "Then dash your lens!" cried Media. "Well said, my lord. For all the eyes we get beyond our own, butminister to infelicity. The microscope disgusts us with our Mardi; andthe telescope sets us longing for some other world. " CHAPTER XIXThey Go Down Into The Catacombs With a dull flambeau, we now descended some narrow stone steps, toview Oh-Oh's collection of ancient and curious manuscripts, preservedin a vault. "This way, this way, my masters, " cried Oh-Oh, aloft, swinging his dimtorch. "Keep your hands before you; it's a dark road to travel. " "So it seems, " said Babbalanja, wide-groping, as he descended lowerand lower. "My lord this is like going down to posterity. " Upon gaining the vault, forth flew a score or two of bats, extinguishing the flambeau, and leaving us in darkness, like Belzonideserted by his Arabs in the heart of a pyramid. The torch at lastrelumed, we entered a tomb-like excavation, at every step raisingclouds of dust; and at last stood before long rows of musty, mummyishparcels, so dingy-red, and so rolled upon sticks, that they lookedlike stiff sausages of Bologna; but smelt like some fine old Stiltonor Cheshire. Most ancient of all, was a hieroglyphical Elegy on the Dumps, consisting of one thousand and one lines; the characters, --herons, weeping-willows, and ravens, supposed to have been traced by a quillfrom the sea-noddy. Then there were plenty of rare old ballads:-- "King Kroko, and the Fisher Girl. " "The Fight at the Ford of Spears. " "The Song of the Skulls. " And brave old chronicles, that made Mohi's mouth water:-- "The Rise and Setting of the Dynasty of Foofoo. " "The Heroic History of the Noble Prince Dragoni; showing how he killed ten Pinioned Prisoners with his Own Hand. " "The whole Pedigree of the King of Kandidee, with that of his famous horse, Znorto. " And Tarantula books:-- "Sour Milk for the Young, by a Dairyman. " "The Devil adrift, by a Corsair. " "Grunts and Groans, by a Mad Boar. " "Stings, by a Scorpion. " And poetical productions:-- "Suffusions of a Lily in a Shower. " "Sonnet on the last Breath of an Ephemera. " "The Gad-fly, and Other Poems. " And metaphysical treatises:-- "Necessitarian not Predestinarian. " "Philosophical Necessity and Predestination One Thing and The Same. " "Whatever is not, is. " "Whatever is, is not. " And scarce old memoirs:-- "The One Hundred Books of the Biography of the Great and Good King Grandissimo. " "The Life of old Philo, the Philanthropist, in one Chapter. " And popular literature:-- "A most Sweet, Pleasant, and Unctuous Account of the Manner in which Five-and-Forty Robbers were torn asunder by Swiftly-Going Canoes. " And books by chiefs and nobles:-- "The Art of Making a Noise in Mardi. " "On the Proper Manner of Saluting a Bosom Friend. " "Letters from a Father to a Son, inculcating the Virtue of Vice. " "Pastorals by a Younger Son. " "A Catalogue of Chieftains who have been Authors, by a Chieftain, who disdains to be deemed an Author. " "A Canto on a Cough caught by my Consort. " "The Philosophy of Honesty, by a late Lord, who died in disgrace. " And theological works:-- "Pepper for the Perverse. " "Pudding for the Pious. " "Pleas for Pardon. " "Pickles for the Persecuted. " And long and tedious romances with short and easy titles:-- "The Buck. " "The Belle. " "The King and the Cook, or the Cook and the King. " And books of voyages:-- "A Sojourn among the Anthropophagi, by One whose Hand was eaten off at Tiffin among the Savages. " "Franko: its King, Court, and Tadpoles. " "Three Hours in Vivenza, containing a Full and Impartial Account of that Whole Country: by a Subject of King Bello. " And works of nautical poets:-- "Sky-Sail-Pole Lyrics. " And divers brief books, with panic-striking titles:-- "Are you safe?" "A Voice from Below. " "Hope for none. " "Fire for all. " And pamphlets by retired warriors:-- "On the Best Gravy for Wild Boar's Meat. " "Three Receipts for Bottling New Arrack. " "To Brown Bread Fruit without Burning. " "Advice to the Dyspeptic. " "On Starch for Tappa. " All these MSS. Were highly prized by Oh-Oh. He averred, that theyspoke of the mighty past, which he reverenced more than the paltrypresent, the dross and sediment of what had been. Peering into a dark crypt, Babbalanja drew forth a few crumbling, illegible, black-letter sheets of his favorite old essayist, braveBardianna. They seemed to have formed parts of a work, whose titleonly remained--"Thoughts, by a Thinker. " Silently Babbalanja pressed them to his heart. Then at arm's lengthheld them, and said, "And is all this wisdom lost? Can not the divinecunning in thee, Bardianna, transmute to brightness these sulliedpages? Here, perhaps, thou didst dive into the deeps of things, treating of the normal forms of matter and of mind; how the particlesof solids were first molded in the interstices of fluids; how thethoughts of men are each a soul, as the lung-cells are each a lung;how that death is but a mode of life; while mid-most is the Pharzi. --But all is faded. Yea, here the Thinker's thoughts lie cheek by jowlwith phrasemen's words. Oh Bardianna! these pages were offspring ofthee, thought of thy thought, soul of thy soul. Instinct with mind, they once spoke out like living voices; now, they're dust; and wouldnot prick a fool to action. Whence then is this? If the fogs of somefew years can make soul linked to matter naught; how can the unhousedspirit hope to live when mildewed with the damps of death. " Piously he folded the shreds of manuscript together, kissed them, andlaid them down. Then approaching Oh-Oh, he besought him for one leaf, one shred ofthose most precious pages, in memory of Bardianna, and for the love ofhim. But learning who he was, one of that old Ponderer's commentators, Oh-Oh tottered toward the manuscripts; with trembling fingers told themover, one by one, and said-"Thank Oro! all are here. --Philosopher, askme for my limbs, my life, my heart, but ask me not for these. Steepedin wax, these shall be my cerements. " All in vain; Oh-Oh was an antiquary. Turning in despair, Babbalanja spied a heap of worm-eaten parchmentcovers, and many clippings and parings. And whereas the rolls ofmanuscripts did smell like unto old cheese; so these relics didmarvelously resemble the rinds of the same. Turning over this pile, Babbalanja lighted upon something thatrestored his good humor. Long he looked it over delighted; butbethinking him, that he must have dragged to day some lost work of thecollection, and much desirous of possessing it, he made bold again toply Oh-Oh; offering a tempting price for his discovery. Glancing at the title--"A Happy Life"-the old man cried--"Oh, rubbish!rubbish! take it for nothing. " And Babbalanja placed it in hisvestment. The catacombs surveyed, and day-light gained, we inquired the way toJi-Ji's, also a collector, but of another sort; one miserly in thematter of teeth, the money of Mardi. At the mention of his name, Oh-Oh flew out into scornful philippicsupon the insanity of that old dotard, who hoarded up teeth, as ifteeth were of any use, but to purchase rarities. Nevertheless, hepointed out our path; following which, we crossed a meadow. CHAPTER XXBabbalanja Quotes From An Antique Pagan; And Earnestly Presses It UponThe Company, That What He Recites Is Not His, But Another's Journeying on, we stopped by a gurgling spring, in a beautiful grove;and here, we stretched out on the grass, and our attendants unpackedtheir hampers, to provide us a lunch. But as for that Babbalanja of ours, he must needs go and lunch byhimself, and, like a cannibal, feed upon an author; though in otherrespects he was not so partial to bones. Bringing forth the treasure he had buried in his bosom, he was soonburied in it; and motionless on his back, looked as if laid out, tokeep an appointment with his undertaker. "What, ho! Babbalanja!" cried Media from under a tree, "don't be aduck, there, with your bill in the air; drop your metaphysics, man, and fall to on the solids. Do you hear?" "Come, philosopher, " said Mohi, handling a banana, "you will weighmore after you have eaten. " "Come, list, Babbalanja, " cried Yoomy, "I am going to sing. " "Up! up! I say, " shouted Media again. "But go, old man, and wake him:rap on his head, and see whether he be in. " Mohi, obeying, found him at home; and Babbalanja started up. "In Oro's name, what ails you, philosopher? See you Paradise, that youlook so wildly?" "A Happy Life! a Happy Life!" cried Babbalanja, in an ecstasy. "Mylord, I am lost in the dream of it, as here recorded. Marvelous book!its goodness transports me. Let me read:--'I would bear the same mind, whether I be rich or poor, whether I get or lose in the world. I willreckon benefits well placed as the fairest part of my possession, notvaluing them by number or weight, but by the profit and esteem of thereceiver; accounting myself never the poorer for any thing I give. What I do shall be done for conscience, not ostentation. I will eatand drink, not to gratify my palate, but to satisfy nature. I will becheerful to my friends, mild and placable to my enemies. I willprevent an honest request, if I can foresee it; and I will grant it, without asking. I will look upon the whole world as my country; andupon Oro, both as the witness and the judge of my words and my deeds. I will live and die with this testimony: that I loved a goodconscience; that I never invaded another man's liberty; and that Ipreserved my own. I will govern my life and my thoughts, as if thewhole world were to see the one, and to read the other; for what doesit signify, to make any thing a secret to my neighbor, when to Oro allour privacies are open. '" "Very fine, " said Media. "The very spirit of the first followers of Alma, as recorded in thelegends, " said Mohi. "Inimitable, " said Yoomy. Said Babbalanja, "Listen again:--'Righteousness is sociable andgentle; free, steady, and fearless; full of inexhaustible delights. 'And here again, and here, and here:--The true felicity of life is tounderstand our duty to Oro. '--'True joy is a serene and sober motion. 'And here, and here, --my lord, 'tis hard quoting from this book;--butlisten--'A peaceful conscience, honest thoughts, and righteous actionsare blessings without end, satiety, or measure. The poor man wantsmany things; the covetous man, all. It is not enough to know Oro, unless we obey him. '" "Alma all over, " cried Mohi; "sure, you read from his sayings?" "I read but odd sentences from one, who though he lived ages ago, never saw, scarcely heard of Alma. And mark me, my lord, this time Iimprovise nothing. What I have recited, Is here. Mohi, this book ismore marvelous than the prophecies. My lord, that a mere man, and aheathen, in that most heathenish time, should give utterance to suchheavenly wisdom, seems more wonderful than that an in-spired prophetshould reveal it. And is it not more divine in this philosopher, tolove righteousness for its own sake, and in view of annihilation, thanfor pious sages to extol it as the means of everlasting felicity?" "Alas, " sighed Yoomy, "and does he not promise us any good thing, whenwe are dead?" "He speaks not by authority. He but woos us to goodness and happinesshere. " "Then, Babbalanja, " said Media, "keep your treasure to yourself. Without authority, and a full right hand, Righteousness better besilent. Mardi's religion must seem to come direct from Oro, and themass of you mortals endeavor it not, except for a consideration, present or to come. " "And call you that righteousness, my lord, which is but the price paiddown for something else?" "I called it not righteousness; it is religion so called. But let usprate no more of these things; with which I, a demi-god, have butlittle in common. It ever impairs my digestion. No more, Babbalanja. " "My lord! my lord! out of itself, Religion has nothing to bestow. Norwill she save us from aught, but from the evil in ourselves. Her onegrand end is to make us wise; her only manifestations are reverence toOro and love to man; her only, but ample reward, herself. He who hasthis, has all. He who has this, whether he kneel to an image of wood, calling it Oro; or to an image of air, calling it the same; whether hefasts or feasts; laughs or weeps;--that man can be no richer. And thisreligion, faith, virtue, righteousness, good, whate'er you will, Ifind in this book I hold. No written page can teach me more. " "Have you that, then, of which you speak, Babbalanja? Are you content, there where you stand?" "My lord, you drive me home. I am not content. The mystery ofmysteries is still a mystery. How this author came to be so wise, perplexes me. How he led the life he did, confounds me. Oh, my lord, Iam in darkness, and no broad blaze comes down to flood me. The raysthat come to me are but faint cross lights, mazing the obscuritywherein I live. And after all, excellent as it is, I can be no gainerby this book. For the more we learn, the more we unlearn; weaccumulate not, but substitute; and take away, more than we add. Wedwindle while we grow; we sally out for wisdom, and retreat beyond thepoint whence we started; we essay the Fondiza, and get but the Phe. Ofall simpletons, the simplest! Oh! that I were another sort of foolthan I am, that I might restore my good opinion of myself. ContinuallyI stand in the pillory, am broken on the wheel, and dragged asunder bywild horses. Yes, yes, Bardianna, all is in a nut, as thou sayest; butall my back teeth can not crack it; I but crack my own jaws. All roundme, my fellow men are new-grafting their vines, and dwelling inflourishing arbors; while I am forever pruning mine, till it is becomebut a stump. Yet in this pruning will I persist; I will not add, Iwill diminish; I will train myself down to the standard of what isunchangeably true. Day by day I drop off my redundancies; ere long Ishall have stripped my ribs; when I die, they will but bury my spine. Ah! where, where, where, my lord, is the everlasting Tekana? Tell me, Mohi, where the Ephina? I may have come to the Penultimate, but where, sweet Yoomy, is the Ultimate? Ah, companions! I faint, I am wordless:--something, nothing, riddles, --does Mardi hold her?" "He swoons!" cried Yoomy. "Water! water!" cried Media. "Away:" said Babbalanja serenely, "I revive. " CHAPTER XXIThey Visit A Wealthy Old Pauper Continuing our route to Jiji's, we presently came to a miserablehovel. Half projecting from the low, open entrance, was a baldovergrown head, intent upon an upright row of dark-colored bags:--pelican pouches--prepared by dropping a stone within, and suspendingthem, when moist. Ever and anon, the great head shook with a tremulous motion, as one byone, to a clicking sound from the old man's mouth, the strings ofteeth were slowly drawn forth, and let fall, again and again, with arattle. But perceiving our approach, the old miser suddenly swooped hispouches out of sight; and, like a turtle into its shell, retreatedinto his den. But soon he decrepitly emerged upon his knees, askingwhat brought us thither?--to steal the teeth, which lying rumoraverred he possessed in abundance? And opening his mouth, he averredhe had none; not even a sentry in his head. But Babbalanja declared, that long since he must have drawn his owndentals, and bagged them with the rest. Now this miserable old miser must have been idiotic; for soonforgetting what he had but just told us of his utter toothlessness, hewas so smitten with the pearly mouth of Hohora, one of our attendants(the same for whose pearls, little King Peepi had taken such a fancy), that he made the following overture to purchase its contents: namely:one tooth of the buyer's, for every three of the seller's. Aproposition promptly rejected, as involving a mercantile absurdity. "Why?" said Babbalanja. "Doubtless, because that proposed to be given, is less than that proposed to be received. Yet, says a philosopher, this is the very principle which regulates all barterings. For wherethe sense of a simple exchange of quantities, alike in value?" "Where, indeed?" said Hohora with open eyes, "though I never heard itbefore, that's a staggering question. I beseech you, who was the sagethat asked it?" "Vivo, the Sophist, " said Babbalanja, turning aside. In the hearing of Jiji, allusion was made to Oh-Oh, as a neighbor ofhis. Whereupon he vented much slavering opprobrium upon that miserableold hump-back; who accumulated useless monstrosities; throwing awaythe precious teeth, which otherwise might have sensibly rattled in hisown pelican pouches. When we quitted the hovel, Jiji, marking little Vee-Vee, from whoseshoulder hung a calabash of edibles, seized the hem of his garment andbesought him for one mouthful of food; for nothing had he tasted thatday. The boy tossed him a yam. CHAPTER XXIIYoomy Sings Some Odd Verses, And Babbalanja Quotes From The OldAuthors Right And Left Sailing from Padulla, after many pleasant things had been saidconcerning the sights there beheld; Babbalanja thus addressed Yoomy--"Warbler, the last song you sung was about moonlight, and paradise, and fabulous pleasures evermore: now, have you any hymns about earthlyfelicity?" "If so, minstrel, " said Media, "jet it forth, my fountain, forthwith. " "Just now, my lord, " replied Yoomy, "I was singing to myself, as Ioften do, and by your leave, I will continue aloud. " "Better begin at the beginning, I should think, " said the chronicler, both hands to his chin, beginning at the top to new braid his beard. "No: like the roots of your beard, old Mohi, all beginnings arestiff, " cried Babbalanja. "We are lucky in living midway in eternity. So sing away, Yoomy, where you left off, " and thus saying he unloosedhis girdle for the song, as Apicius would for a banquet. "Shall I continue aloud, then, my lord?" My lord nodded, and Yoomy sang:-- "Full round, full soft, her dewy arms, -- Sweet shelter from all Mardi's harms!" "Whose arms?" cried Mohi. Sang Yoomy:-- Diving deep in the sea, She takes sunshine along: Down flames in the sea, As of dolphins a throng. "What mermaid is this?" cried Mohi. Sang Yoomy:-- Her foot, a falling sound, That all day long might bound. Over the beach, The soft sand beach, And none would find A trace behind. "And why not?" demanded Media, "why could no trace be found?" Said Braid-Beard, "Perhaps owing, my lord, to the flatness of themermaid's foot. But no; that can not be; for mermaids are allvertebrae below the waist. " "Your fragment is pretty good, I dare say, Yoomy, " observed Media, "but as Braid-Beard hints, rather flat. " "Flat as the foot of a man with his mind made up, " cried Braid-Beard. "Yoomy, did you sup on flounders last night?" But Yoomy vouchsafed no reply, he was ten thousand leagues off in areverie: somewhere in the Hyades perhaps. Conversation proceeding, Braid-Beard happened to make allusion to oneRotato, a portly personage, who, though a sagacious philosopher, andvery ambitious to be celebrated as such, was only famous in Mardi asthe fattest man of his tribe. Said Media, "Then, Mohi, Rotato could not pick a quarrel with Fame, since she did not belie him. Fat he was, and fat she published him. " "Right, my lord, " said Babbalanja, "for Fame is not always so honest. Not seldom to be famous, is to be widely known for what you are not, says Alla-Malolla. Whence it comes, as old Bardianna has it, that foryears a man may move unnoticed among his fellows; but all at once, bysome chance attitude, foreign to his habit, become a trumpet-full forfools; though, in himself, the same as ever. Nor has he shown himselfyet; for the entire merit of a man can never be made known; nor thesum of his demerits, if he have them. We are only known by our names;as letters sealed up, we but read each other's superscriptions. "So with the commonalty of us Mardians. How then with those beings whoevery way are but too apt to be riddles. In many points the works ofour great poet Vavona, now dead a thousand moons, still remain amystery. Some call him a mystic; but wherein he seems obscure, it is, perhaps, we that are in fault; not by premeditation spoke he thosearchangel thoughts, which made many declare, that Vavona, after all, was but a crack-pated god, not a mortal of sound mind. But had he beenless, my lord, he had seemed more. Saith Fulvi, 'Of the highest orderof genius, it may be truly asserted, that to gain the reputation ofsuperior power, it must partially disguise itself; it must come down, and then it will be applauded for soaring. ' And furthermore, thatthere are those who falter in the common tongue, because they think inanother; and these are accounted stutterers and stammerers. '" "Ah! how true!" cried the Warbler. "And what says the archangel Vavona, Yoomy, in that wonderful drama ofhis, 'The Souls of the Sages?'--'Beyond most barren hills, there arelandscapes ravishing; with but one eye to behold; which no pencil canportray. ' What wonder then, my lord, that Mardi itself is so blind. 'Mardi is a monster, ' says old Bardianna, 'whose eyes are fixed in itshead, like a whale's; it can see but two ways, and those comprisingbut a small arc of a perfect vision. Poets, heroes, and men of might, are all around this monster Mardi. But stand before me on stilts, or Iwill behold you not, says the monster; brush back your hair; inhalethe wind largely; lucky are all men with dome-like foreheads; lucklessthose with pippin-heads; loud lungs are a blessing; a lion is no lionthat can not roar. ' Says Aldina, 'There are those looking on, who knowthemselves to be swifter of foot than the racers, but are confoundedwith the simpletons that stare. '" "The mere carping of a disappointed cripple, " cried Mold. Hisbiographer states, that Aldina had only one leg. " "Braid-Beard, you are witty, " said Babbbalanja, adjusting his robe. "My lord, there are heroes without armies, who hear martial music intheir souls. " "Why not blow their trumpets louder, then, " cried Media, that allMardi may hear?" "My lord Media, too, is witty, Babbalanja, " said Mohi. Breathed Yoomy, "There are birds of divinest plumage, and mostglorious song, yet singing their lyrics to themselves. " Said Media, "The lark soars high, cares for no auditor, yet its sweetnotes are heard here below. It sings, too, in company with myriads ofmates. Your soliloquists, Yoomy, are mostly herons and owls. " Said Babbalanja, "Very clever, my lord; but think you not, there aremen eloquent, who never babble in the marketplace?" "Ay, and arrant babblers at home. In few words, Babbalanja, youespouse a bad cause. Most of you mortals are peacocks; some havingtails, and some not; those who have them will be sure to thrust theirplumes in your face; for the rest, they will display their baldcruppers, and still screech for admiration. But when a great genius isborn into Mardi, he nods, and is known. " "More wit, but, with deference, perhaps less truth, my lord. Say whatyou will, Fame is an accident; merit a thing absolute. But whatmatter? Of what available value reputation, unless wedded to power, dentals, or place? To those who render him applause, a poet's may seema thing tangible; but to the recipient, 'tis a fantasy; the poet neverso stretches his imagination, as when striving to comprehend what itis; often, he is famous without knowing it. " "At the sacred games of Lazella, " said Yoomy, "slyly crowned frombehind with a laurel fillet, for many hours, the minstrel Jarmiwandered about ignorant of the honors he bore. But enlightened atlast, he doffed the wreath; then, holding it at arm's length, sighedforth--Oh, ye laurels! to be visible to me, ye must be removed from mybrow!" "And what said Botargo, " cried Babbalanja, "hearing that his poems hadbeen translated into the language of the remote island of Bertranda?--'It stirs me little; already, in merry fancies, have I dreamed oftheir being trilled by the blessed houris in paradise; I can onlyimagine the same of the damsels of Bertranda. ' Says Boldo, theMaterialist, --'Substances alone are satisfactory. '" "And so thought the mercenary poet, Zenzi, " said Yoomy. "Uponreceiving fourteen ripe yams for a sonnet, one for every line, he saidto me, Yoomy, I shall make a better meal upon these, than upon so manycompliments. " "Ay, " cried Babbalanja, "'Bravos, ' saith old Bardianna, but induceflatulency. '" Said Media, "And do you famous mortals, then, take no pleasure inhearing your bravos?" "Much, my good lord; at least such famous mortals, so enamored of aclamorous notoriety, as to bravo for themselves, when none else willhuzza; whose whole existence is an unintermitting consciousness ofself; whose very persons stand erect and self-sufficient as theirinfallible index, the capital letter I; who relish and comprehend noreputation but what attaches to the carcass; who would as lief berenowned for a splendid mustache, as for a splendid drama: who knownot how it was that a personage, to posterity so universallycelebrated as the poet Vavona, ever passed through the crowdunobserved; who deride the very thunder for making such a noise inMardi, and yet disdain to manifest itself to the eye. " "Wax not so warm, Babbalanja; but tell us, if to his contemporariesVavona's person was almost unknown, what satisfaction did he derivefrom his genius?" "Had he not its consciousness?--an empire boundless as the West. Whatto him were huzzas? Why, my lord, from his privacy, the great and goodLogodora sent liniment to the hoarse throats without. But what saidBardianna, when they dunned him for autographs?--'Who keeps theregister of great men? who decides upon noble actions? and how longmay ink last? Alas! Fame has dropped more rolls than she displays; andthere are more lost chronicles, than the perished books of thehistorian Livella. ' But what is lost forever, my lord, is nothing towhat is now unseen. There are more treasures in the bowels of theearth, than on its surface. " "Ah! no gold, " cried Yoomy, "but that comes from dark mines. " Said Babbalanja, "Bear witness, ye gods! cries fervent old Bardianna, that besides disclosures of good and evil undreamed of now, there willbe other, and more astounding revelations hereafter, of what haspassed in Mardi unbeheld. " "A truce to your everlasting pratings of old Bardianna, " said KingMedia; why not speak your own thoughts, Babbalanja? then would yourdiscourse possess more completeness; whereas, its warp and woof are ofall sorts, --Bardianna, Alla-Malolla, Vavona, and all the writers thatever have written. Speak for yourself, mortal!" "May you not possibly mistake, my lord? for I do not so much quoteBardianna, as Bardianna quoted me, though he flourished before me; andno vanity, but honesty to say so. The catalogue of true thoughts isbut small; they are ubiquitous; no man's property; and unspoken, orbruited, are the same. When we hear them, why seem they so natural, receiving our spontaneous approval? why do we think we have heard thembefore? Because they but reiterate ourselves; they were in us, beforewe were born. The truest poets are but mouth-pieces; and some men areduplicates of each other; I see myself in Bardianna. " "And there, for Oro's sake, let it rest, Babbalanja; Bardianna in you, and you in Bardianna forever!" CHAPTER XXIIIWhat Manner Of Men The Tapparians Were The canoes sailed on. But we leave them awhile. For our visit to Jiji, the last visit we made, suggests some further revelations concerningthe dental money of Mardi. Ere this, it should have been mentioned, that throughout theArchipelago, there was a restriction concerning incisors and molars, as ornaments for the person; none but great chiefs, brave warriors, and men distinguished by rare intellectual endowments, orators, romancers, philosophers, and poets, being permitted to sport them asjewels. Though, as it happened, among the poets there were many whohad never a tooth, save those employed at their repasts; which, comingbut seldom, their teeth almost corroded in their mouths. Hence, incommerce, poets' teeth were at a discount. For these reasons, then, many mortals blent with the promiscuous mobof Mardians, who, by any means, accumulated teeth, were fain to asserttheir dental claims to distinction, by clumsily carrying theirtreasures in pelican pouches slung over their shoulders; which poucheswere a huge burden to carry about, and defend. Though, in good truth, from any of these porters, it was harder to wrench his pouches, thanhis limbs. It was also a curious circumstance that at the slightestcasual touch, these bags seemed to convey a simultaneous thrill to theowners. Besides these porters, there were others, who exchanged their teethfor richly stained calabashes, elaborately carved canoes, and moreespecially, for costly robes, and turbans; in which last, manyoutshone the noblest-born nobles. Nevertheless, this answered not theend they had in view; some of the crowd only admiring what they wore, and not them; breaking out into laudation of the inimitable handiworkof the artisans of Mardi. And strange to relate, these artisans themselves often came to be menof teeth and turbans, sporting their bravery with the best. Acircumstance, which accounted for the fact, that many of the classabove alluded to, were considered capital judges of tappa and tailoring. Hence, as a general designation, the whole tribe went by the name ofTapparians; otherwise, Men of Tappa. Now, many moons ago, according to Braid-Beard, the Tapparians of acertain cluster of islands, seeing themselves hopelessly confoundedwith the plebeian race of mortals; such as artificers, honest men, bread-fruit bakers, and the like; seeing, in short, that nature haddenied them every inborn mark of distinction; and furthermore, thattheir external assumptions were derided by so many in Mardi, theseselfsame Tapparians, poor devils, resolved to secede from the rabble;form themselves into a community of their own; and conventionally paythat homage to each other, which universal Mardi could not beprevailed upon to render to them. Jointly, they purchased an island, called Pimminee, toward the extremewest of the lagoon; and thither they went; and framing a code of laws--amazingly arbitrary, considering they themselves were the framers--solemnly took the oath of allegiance to the commonwealth thusestablished. Regarded section by section, this code of laws seemedexceedingly trivial; but taken together, made a somewhat imposingaggregation of particles. By this code, the minutest things in life were all ordered after aspecific fashion. More especially one's dress was legislated upon, tothe last warp and woof. All girdles must be so many inches in length, and with such a number of tassels in front. For a violation of thisordinance, before the face of all Mardi, the most dutiful of sonswould cut the most affectionate of fathers. Now, though like all Mardi, kings and slaves included, the people ofPimminee had dead dust for grandsires, they seldom reverted to thatfact; for, like all founders of families, they had no family vaults. Nor were they much encumbered by living connections; connections, someof them appeared to have none. Like poor Logan the last of his tribe, they seemed to have monopolized the blood of their race, having nevera cousin to own. Wherefore it was, that many ignorant Mardians, who had not pushedtheir investigations into the science of physiology, sagely divined, that the Tapparians must have podded into life like peas, instead ofbeing otherwise indebted for their existence. Certain it is, they hada comical way of backing up their social pretensions. When therespectability of his clan was mooted, Paivai, one of their bucks, disdained all reference to the Dooms-day Book, and the ancients. Morereliable evidence was had. He referred the anxious world to a witness, still alive and hearty, --his contemporary tailor; the varlet who cutout his tappa doublets, and rejoiced his soul with good fits. "Ah!" sighed Babbalanja, "how it quenches in one the thought ofimmortality, to think that these Tapparians too, will hereafter claimeach a niche!" But we rove. Our visit to Pimminee itself, will best make known theways of its denizens. CHAPTER XXIVTheir Adventures Upon Landing At Pimminee A long sail over, the island of Pimminee came in sight; one dead fiat, wreathed in a thin, insipid vapor. "My lord, why land?" said Babbalanja; "no Yillah is here. " "'Tis my humor, Babbalanja. " Said Yoomy, "Taji would leave no isle unexplored. " As we neared the beach, the atmosphere became still closer and morelanguid. Much did we miss the refreshing balm which breathed in thefine breezy air of the open lagoon. Of a slender and sickly growthseemed the trees; in the meadows, the grass grew small and mincing. Said Media, "Taji, from the accounts which Braid-Beard gives, theremust be much to amuse, in the ways of these Tapparians. " "Yes, " said Babbalanja, "their lives are a continual farce, gratuitously performed for the diversion of Mardi. My lord, perhaps wehad best doff our dignity, and land among them as persons of lowlycondition; for then, we shall receive more diversion, though lesshospitality. " "A good proposition, " said Media. And so saying, he put off his robe for one less pretentious. All followed suit; Yoomy doffing turban and sash; and, at last, completely metamorphosed, we looked like Hungarian gipsies. Voyaging on, we entered a bay, where numbers of menials were standingin the water, engaged in washing the carved work of certain fantasticcanoes, belonging to the Tapparians, their masters. Landing at some distance, we followed a path that soon conducted us toa betwisted dwelling of bamboos, where, gently, we knocked foradmittance. So doing, we were accosted by a servitor, his portlinessall in his calves. Marking our appearance, he monopolized thethreshold, and gruffly demanded what was wanted. "Strangers, kind sir, fatigued with travel, and in need of refreshmentand repose. " "Then hence with ye, vagabonds!" and with an emphasis, he closed theportal in our face. Said Babbalanja, turning, "You perceive, my lord Media, that thesevarlets take after their masters; who feed none but the well-fed, andhouse none but the well-housed. " "Faith! but they furnish most rare entertainment, nevertheless, " criedMedia. "Ha! ha! Taji, we had missed much, had we missed Pimminee. " As this was said, we observed, at a distance, three menials runningfrom seaward, as if conveying important intelligence. Halting here and there, vainly seeking admittance at otherhabitations, and receiving nothing but taunts for our pains, we stillwandered on; and at last came upon a village, toward which, those fromthe sea-side had been running. And now, to our surprise, we were accosted by an eager and servilethrong. "Obsequious varlets, " said Media, "where tarry your masters?" "Right royal, and thrice worshipful Lord of Odo, do you take us forour domestics? We are Tapparians, may it please your illustriousHighness; your most humble and obedient servants. We beseech you, supereminent Sir, condescend to visit our habitations, and partake ofour cheer. " Then turning upon their attendants, "Away with ye, hounds! and set ourdwellings in order. " "How know ye me to be king?" asked Media. "Is it not in your serene Highness's regal port, and eye?" "'Twas their menials, " muttered Mohi, "who from the paddlers in chargeof our canoes must have learned who my lord was, and published thetidings. " After some further speech, Media made a social surrender of himself tothe foremost of the Tapparians, one Nimni; who, conducting us to hisabode, with much deference introduced us to a portly old Begum, andthree slender damsels; his wife and daughters. Soon, refreshments appeared:--green and yellow compounds, and diversenigmatical dainties; besides vegetable liqueurs of a strange andalarming flavor served in fragile little leaves, folded into cups, andvery troublesome to handle. Excessively thirsty, Babbalanja made bold to inquire for water; whichcalled forth a burst of horror from the old Begum, and minor shrieksfrom her daughters; who declared, that the beverage to which remotereference had been made, was far too widely diffused in Mardi, to beat all esteemed in Pimminee. "But though we seldom imbibe it, " said the old Begum, ceremoniouslyadjusting her necklace of cowrie-shells, "we occasionally employ itfor medicinal purposes. " "Ah, indeed?" said Babbalanja. "But oh! believe me; even then, we imbibe not the ordinary fluid ofthe springs and streams; but that which in afternoon showers softlydrains from our palm-trees into the little hollow or miniaturereservoir beneath its compacted roots. " A goblet of this beverage was now handed Babbalanja; but having acurious, gummy flavor, it proved any thing but palatable. Presently, in came a company of young men, relatives of Nimni. Theywere slender as sky-sail-poles; standing in a row, resembled a picket-fence; and were surmounted by enormous heads of hair, combed out allround, variously dyed, and evened by being singed with a lighted wispof straw. Like milliners' parcels, they were very neatly done up;wearing redolent robes. "How like the woodlands they smell, " whispered Yoomy. "Ay, marvelouslylike sap, " said Mohi. One part of their garniture consisted of numerous tasseled cords, likethose of an aigulette, depending from the neck, and attached here andthere about the person. A separate one, at a distance, united theirankles. These served to measure and graduate their movements; keepingtheir gestures, paces, and attitudes, within the prescribed standardof Tapparian gentility. When they went abroad, they were preceded bycertain footmen; who placed before them small, carved boards, whereontheir masters stepped; thus avoiding contact with the earth. Thesimple device of a shoe, as a fixture for the foot, was unknown inPimminee. Being told, that Taji was lately from the sun, they manifested not theslightest surprise; one of them incidentally observing, however, thatthe eclipses there, must be a sad bore to endure. CHAPTER XXVA, I, AND O The old Begum went by the euphonious appellation of Ohiro-Moldona-Fivona; a name, from its length, deemed highly genteel; though scandalaverred, that it was nothing more than her real name transposed; theappellation by which she had been formerly known, signifying a"Getterup-of-Fine-Tappa. " But as this would have let out an ancientsecret, it was thought wise to disguise it. Her daughters respectively reveled in the pretty diminutives of A, I, and O; which, from their brevity, comical to tell, were consideredequally genteel with the dame's. The habiliments of the three Vowels must not he omitted. Each damselgarrisoned an ample, circular farthingale of canes, serving as theframe-work, whereon to display a gayly dyed robe. Perhaps their charmsintrenched themselves in these impregnable petticoats, as feeblearmies fly to fortresses, to hide their weakness, and better resist anonset. But polite and politic it is, to propitiate your hostess. So seatinghimself by the Begum, Taji led off with earnest inquiries after herwelfare. But the Begum was one of those, who relieve the diffidentfrom the embarrassment of talking; all by themselves carrying onconversation for two. Hence, no wonder that my Lady was esteemedinvaluable at all assemblies in the groves of Pimminee; contributingso largely to that incessant din, which is held the best test of theenjoyment of the company, as making them deaf to the general nonsense, otherwise audible. Learning that Taji had been making the tour of certain islands inMardi, the Begum was surprised that he could have thus hazarded hislife among the barbarians of the East. She desired to know whether hisconstitution was not impaired by inhaling the unrefined atmosphere ofthose remote and barbarous regions. For her part, the mere thought ofit made her faint in her innermost citadel; nor went she ever abroadwith the wind at East, dreading the contagion which might lurk in theair. Upon accosting the three damsels, Taji very soon discovered that thetongue which had languished in the presence of the Begum, was nowcalled into active requisition, to entertain the Polysyllables, herdaughters. So assiduously were they occupied in silent endeavors tolook sentimental and pretty, that it proved no easy task to sustainwith them an ordinary chat. In this dilemma, Taji diffused not hisremarks among all three; but discreetly centered them upon O. Thinkingshe might be curious concerning the sun, he made some remote allusionto that luminary as the place of his nativity. Upon which, O inquiredwhere that country was, of which mention was made. "Some distance from here; in the air above; the sun that gives lightto Pimminee, and Mardi at large. " She replied, that if that were the case, she had never beheld it; forsuch was the construction of her farthingale, that her head could notbe thrown back, without impairing its set. Wherefore, she had alwaysabstained from astronomical investigations. Hereupon, rude Mohi laughed out. And that lucky laugh happily relievedTaji from all further necessity of entertaining the Vowels. For at sovulgar, and in Pimminee, so unwonted a sound, as a genuine laugh, thethree startled nymphs fainted away in a row, their round farthingalesfalling over upon each other, like a file of empty tierces. But theypresently revived. Meanwhile, without stirring from their mats, the polite young bucks inthe aigulettes did nothing but hold semi-transparent leaves to theireyes, by the stems; which leaves they directed downward, toward thedisordered hems of the farthingales; in wait, perhaps, for therevelation of an ankle, and its accompaniments. What the precise useof these leaves could have been, it would be hard to say, especiallyas the observers invariably peeped over and under them. The calamity of the Vowels was soon followed by the breaking up of theparty; when, evening coming on, and feeling much wearied with thelabor of seeing company in Pimminee, we retired to our mats; therefinding that repose which ever awaits the fatigued. CHAPTER XXVIA Reception Day At Pimminee Next morning, Nimni apprized us, that throughout the day he proposedkeeping open house, for the purpose of enabling us to behold whateverof beauty, rank, and fashion, Pimminee could boast; including certainstrangers of note from various quarters of the lagoon, who doubtlesswould honor themselves with a call. As inmates of the mansion, we unexpectedly had a rare opportunity ofwitnessing the final toilets of the Begum and her daughters, preparatory to receiving their guests. Their four farthingales were placed standing in the middle of thedwelling; when their future inmates, arrayed in rudimental vestments, went round and round them, attaching various articles of finery, dyedscarfs, ivory trinkets, and other decorations. Upon the propriety ofthis or that adornment, the three Vowels now and then pondered apart, or together consulted. They talked and they laughed; they were silentand sad; now merry at their bravery; now pensive at the thought of thecharms to be hidden. It was O who presently suggested the expediency of an artful fold intheir draperies, by the merest accident in Mardi, to reveal atantalizing glimpse of their ankles, which were thought to be pretty. But the old Begum was more active than any; by far the mostdisinterested in the matter of advice. Her great object seemed to beto pile on the finery at all hazards; and she pointed out many as yetvacant and unappropriated spaces, highly susceptible of adornment. At last, all was in readiness; when, taking a valedictory glance, attheir intrenchments, the Begum and damsels simultaneously dipped theirheads, directly after emerging from the summit, all ready for execution. And now to describe the general reception that followed. In came theRoes, the Fees, the Lol-Lols, the Hummee-Hums, the Bidi-Bidies, andthe Dedidums; the Peenees, the Yamoyamees, the Karkies, the Fanfums, the Diddledees, and the Fiddlefies; in a word, all the aristocracy ofPimminee; people with exceedingly short names; and some all name, andnothing else. It was an imposing array of sounds; a circulation ofciphers; a marshaling of tappas; a getting together of grimaces andfurbelows; a masquerade of vapidities. Among the crowd was a bustling somebody, one Gaddi, arrayed in muchapparel to little purpose; who, singling out Babbalanja, for some timeadhered to his side, and with excessive complaisance, enlightened himas to the people assembled. "_That_ is rich Marmonora, accounted a mighty man in Pimminee; hisbags of teeth included, he is said to weigh upwards of fourteen stone;and is much sought after by tailors for his measure, being but slenderin the region of the heart. His riches are great. And that old vrow isthe widow Roo; very rich; plenty of teeth; but has none in her head. And _this_ is Finfi; said to be not very rich, and a maid. Who wouldsuppose she had ever beat tappa for a living?" And so saying, Gaddi sauntered off; his place by Babbalanja's sidebeing immediately supplied by the damsel Finfi. That vivacious andamiable nymph at once proceeded to point out the company, where Gaddihad left off; beginning with Gaddi himself, who, she insinuated, was amere parvenu, a terrible infliction upon society, and not near so richas he was imagined to be. Soon we were accosted by one Nonno, a sour, saturnine personage. "Iknow nobody here; not a soul have I seen before; I wonder who they allare. " And just then he was familiarly nodded to by nine worthiesabreast. Whereupon Nonno vanished. But after going the rounds of thecompany, and paying court to many, he again sauntered by Babbalanja, saying, "Nobody, nobody; nobody but nobodies; I see nobody I know. " Advancing, Nimni now introduced many strangers of distinction, parading their titles after a fashion, plainly signifying that he wasbent upon convincing us, that there were people present at this littleaffair of his, who were men of vast reputation; and that we erred, ifwe deemed him unaccustomed to the society of the illustrious. But not a few of his magnates seemed shy of Media and their laurels. Especially a tall robustuous fellow, with a terrible javelin in hishand, much notched and splintered, as if it had dealt many a thrust. His left arm was gallanted in a sling, and there was a patch upon hissinister eye. Him Nimni made known as a famous captain, from KingPiko's island (of which anon) who had been all but mortally woundedsomewhere, in a late desperate though nameless encounter. "Ah, " said Media as this redoubtable withdrew, Fofi is a cunningknave; a braggart, driven forth, by King Piko for his cowardice. Hehas blent his tattooing into one mass of blue, and thus disguised, must have palmed himself off here in Pimminee, for the man he is not. But I see many more like him. " "Oh ye Tapparians, " said Babbalanja, "none so easily humbugged ashumbugs. Taji: to behold this folly makes one wise. Look, look; it isall round us. Oh Pimminee, Pimminee!" CHAPTER XXVIIBabbalanja Falleth Upon Pimminee Tooth And Nail The levee over, waiving further civilities, we took courteus leave ofthe Begum and Nimni, and proceeding to the beach, very soon wereembarked. When all were pleasantly seated beneath the canopy, pipes in fullblast, calabashes revolving, and the paddlers quietly urging us along, Media proposed that, for the benefit of the company, some one present, in a pithy, whiffy sentence or two, should sum up the character of theTapparians; and ended by nominating Babbalanja to that office. "Come, philosopher: let us see in how few syllables you can put thebrand on those Tapparians. " "Pardon me, my lord, but you must permit me to ponder awhile; nothingrequires more time, than to be brief. An example: they say that inconversation old Bardianna dealt in nothing but trisyllabic sentences. His talk was thunder peals: sounding reports, but long intervals. " "The devil take old Bardianna. And would that the grave-digger hadburied his Ponderings, along with his other remains. Can none be inyour company, Babbalanja, but you must perforce make them hob-a-nobwith that old prater? A brand for the Tapparians! that is what we seek. " "You shall have it, my lord. Full to the brim of themselves, for thatreason, the Tapparians are the emptiest of mortals. " "A good blow and well planted, Babbalanja. " "In sooth, a most excellent saying; it should be carved upon histombstone, " said Mohi, slowly withdrawing his pipe. "What! would you have my epitaph read thus:--'Here lies the emptiestof mortals, who was full of himself?' At best, your words areexceedingly ambiguous, Mohi. " "Now have I the philosopher, " cried Yoomy, with glee. "What did someone say to me, not long since, Babbalanja, when in the matter of thatsleepy song of mine, Braid-Beard bestowed upon me an equivocalcompliment? Was I not told to wrest commendation from it, though Itortured it to the quick?" "Take thy own pills, philosopher, " said Mohi. "Then would he be a great original, " said Media. "Tell me, Yoomy, " said Babbalanja, "are you not in fault? Because Isometimes speak wisely, you must not imagine that I should always actso. " "I never imagined that, " said Yoomy, "and, if I did, the truth wouldbelie me. It is you who are in fault, Babbalanja; not I, craving yourpardon. " "The minstrel's sides are all edges to-day, " said Media. "This, then, thrice gentle Yoomy, is what I would say;" resumedBabbalanja, "that since we philosophers bestow so much wisdom uponothers, it is not to be wondered at, if now and then we find what isleft in us too small for our necessities. It is from our veryabundance that we want. " "And from the fool's poverty, " said Media, "that he is opulent; forhis very simplicity, is sometimes of more account than the wisdom ofthe sage. But we were discoursing of the Tapparians. Babbalanja:sententiously you have acquitted yourself to admiration; now amplify, and tell us more of the people of Pimminee. " "My lord, I might amplify forever. " "Then, my worshipful lord, let him not begin, " interposed Braid-Beard. "I mean, " said Babbalanja, "that all subjects are inexhaustible, however trivial; as the mathematical point, put in motion, is capableof being produced into an infinite line. " "But forever extending into nothing, " said Media. "A very bad exampleto follow. Do you, Babbalanja, come to the point, and not travel offwith it, which is too much your wont. " "Since my lord insists upon it then, thus much for the Tapparians, though but a thought or two of many in reserve. They ignore the restof Mardi, while they themselves are but a rumor in the isles of theEast; where the business of living and dying goes on with the sameuniformity, as if there were no Tapparians in existence. They thinkthemselves Mardi in full; whereas, by the mass, they are stared at asprodigies; exceptions to the law, ordaining that no Mardian shallundertake to live, unless he set out with at least the averagequantity of brains. For these Tapparians have no brains. In lieu, theycarry in one corner of their craniums, a drop or two of attar ofroses; charily used, the supply being small. They are the victims oftwo incurable maladies: stone in the heart, and ossification of thehead. They are full of fripperies, fopperies, and finesses; knowingnot, that nature should be the model of art. Yet, they might appearless silly than they do, were they content to be the plain idiotswhich at bottom they are. For there be grains of sense in a simpleton, so long as he be natural. But what can be expected from them? They areirreclaimable Tapparians; not so much fools by contrivance of theirown, as by an express, though inscrutable decree of Oro's. For one, mylord, I can not abide them. " Nor could Taji. In Pimminee were no hilarious running and shouting: none of the royalgood cheer of old Borabolla; none of the mysteries of Maramma; none ofthe sentiment and romance of Donjalolo; no rehearsing of old legends:no singing of old songs; no life; no jolly commotion: in short, no menand women; nothing but their integuments; stiff trains andfarthingales. CHAPTER XXVIIIBabbalanja Regales The Company With Some Sandwiches It was night. But the moon was brilliant, far and near illuminatingthe lagoon. Over silvery billows we glided. "Come Yoomy, " said Media, "moonlight and music for aye--a song! asong! my bird of paradise. " And folding his arms, and watching the sparkling waters, thus Yoomysang:-- A ray of the moon on the dancing waves Is the step, light step of that beautiful maid: Mardi, with music, her footfall paves, And her voice, no voice, but a song in the glade. "Hold!" cried Media, "yonder is a curious rock. It looks black as awhale's hump in blue water, when the sun shines. " "That must be the Isle of Fossils, " said Mohi. "Ay, my lord, it is. " "Let us land, then, " said Babbalanja. And none dissenting, the canoes were put about, and presently wedebarked. It was a dome-like surface, here and there fringed with ferns, sprouting from clefts. But at every tide the thin soil seemedgradually washing into the lagoon. Like antique tablets, the smoother parts were molded in strangedevices:--Luxor marks, Tadmor ciphers, Palenque inscriptions. In longlines, as on Denderah's architraves, were bas-reliefs of beetles, turtles, ant-eaters, armadilloes, guanos, serpents, tonguelesscrocodiles:--a long procession, frosted and crystalized in stone, andsilvered by the moon. "Strange sight!" cried Media. "Speak, antiquarian Mohi. " But the chronicler was twitching his antiquarian beard, nonplussed bythese wondrous records. The cowled old father, Piaggi, bending overhis calcined Herculanean manuscripts, looked not more at fault thanhe. Said Media, "Expound you, then, sage Babbalanja. " Muffling his face inhis mantle, and his voice in sepulchral tones, Babbalanja thus:-- "These are the leaves of the book of Oro. Here we read how worlds aremade; here read the rise and fall of Nature's kingdoms. From wherethis old man's furthest histories start, these unbeginning recordsend. These are the secret memoirs of times past; whose evidence, atlast divulged, gives the grim lie to Mohi's gossipings, and makes arattling among the dry-bone relics of old Maramma. " Braid-Beard's old eyes flashed fire. With bristling beard, he cried, "Take back the lie you send!" "Peace! everlasting foes, " cried Media, interposing, with both armsoutstretched. "Philosopher, probe not too deep. All you say is veryfine, but very dark. I would know something more precise. But, prithee, ghost, unmuffle! chatter no more! wait till you're buried forthat. " "Ay, death's cold ague will set us all shivering, my lord. We'll swearour teeth are icicles. " "Will you quit driving your sleet upon us? have done expound theserocks. " "My lord, if you desire, I'll turn over these stone tablets tillthey're dog-eared. " "Heaven and Mardi!--Go on, Babbalanja. " "'Twas thus. These were tombs burst open by volcanic throes; andhither hurled from the lowermost vaults of the lagoon. All Mardi'srocks are one wide resurrection. But look. Here, now, a pretty story'stold. Ah, little thought these grand old lords, that lived and roaredbefore the flood, that they would come to this. Here, King Media, lookand learn. " He looked; and saw a picture petrified, and plain as any on thepediments of Petra. It seemed a stately banquet of the dead, where lords in skeletons wereranged around a board heaped up with fossil fruits, and flanked withvitreous vases, grinning like empty skulls. There they sat, exchangingrigid courtesies. One's hand was on his stony heart; his other pledgeda lord who held a hollow beaker. Another sat, with earnest facebeneath a mitred brow. He seemed to whisper in the ear of one wholistened trustingly. But on the chest of him who wore the miter, anadder lay, close-coiled in flint. At the further end, was raised a throne, its canopy surmounted by acrown, in which now rested the likeness of a raven on an egg. The throne was void. But half-concealed by drapery, behind thegoodliest lord, sideway leaned a figure diademed, a lifted poniard inits hand:--a monarch fossilized in very act of murdering his guest. "Most high and sacred majesty!" cried Babbalanja, bowing to his feet. While all stood gazing on this sight, there came two servitors ofMedia's, who besought of Babbalanja to settle a dispute, concerningcertain tracings upon the islet's other side. Thither we followed them. Upon a long layer of the slaty stone were marks of ripplings of somenow waveless sea; mid which were tri-toed footprints of some hugeheron, or wading fowl. Pointing to one of which, the foremost disputant thus spoke:--"Imaintain that these are three toes. " "And I, that it is one foot, " said the other. "And now decide between us, " joined the twain. Said Babbalanja, starting, "Is not this the very question concerningwhich they made such dire contention in Maramma, whose tertiary rocksare chisseled all over with these marks? Yes; this it is, concerningwhich they once shed blood. This it is, concerning which they stilldivide. " "Which of us is right?" again demanded the impatient twain. "Unite, and both are right; divide, and both are wrong. Every unit ismade up of parts, as well as every plurality. Nine is three threes; aunit is as many thirds; or, if you please, a thousand thousandths; nospecial need to stop at thirds. " "Away, ye foolish disputants!" cried Media. "Full before you is thething disputed. " Strolling on, many marvels did we mark; and Media said:--"Babbalanja, you love all mysteries; here's a fitting theme. You have given us thehistory of the rock; can your sapience tell the origin of all theisles? how Mardi came to be?" "Ah, that once mooted point is settled. Though hard at first, itproved a bagatelle. Start not my lord; there are those who havemeasured Mardi by perch and pole, and with their wonted lead soundedits utmost depths. Listen: it is a pleasant story. The coral wallwhich circumscribes the isles but continues upward the deep buriedcrater of the primal chaos. In the first times this crucible wascharged with vapors nebulous, boiling over fires volcanic. Age by age, the fluid thickened; dropping, at long intervals, heavy sediment tothe bottom; which layer on layer concreted, and at length, in crusts, rose toward the surface. Then, the vast volcano burst; rent the wholemass; upthrew the ancient rocks; which now in divers mountain topstell tales of what existed ere Mardi was completely fashioned. Hencemany fossils on the hills, whose kith and kin still lurk beneath thevales. Thus Nature works, at random warring, chaos a crater, and thisworld a shell. " Mohi stroked his beard. Yoomy yawned. Media cried, "Preposterous!" "My lord, then take another theory--which you will--the celebratedsandwich System. Nature's first condition was a soup, wherein theagglomerating solids formed granitic dumplings, which, wearing down, deposited the primal stratum made up of series, sandwiching strangeshapes of mollusks, and zoophytes; then snails, and periwinkles:--marmalade to sip, and nuts to crack, ere the substantials came. "And next, my lord, we have the fine old time of the Old Red Sandstonesandwich, clapped on the underlying layer, and among other dainties, imbedding the first course of fish, --all quite in rule, --sturgeon-forms, cephalaspis, glyptolepis, pterichthys; and other finny things, of flavor rare, but hard to mouth for bones. Served up with these, were sundry greens, --lichens, mosses, ferns, and fungi. "Now comes the New Red Sandstone sandwich: marly and magnesious, spread over with old patriarchs of crocodiles and alligators, --hardcarving these, --and prodigious lizards, spine-skewered, tails tied inbows, and swimming in saffron saucers. " "What next?" cried Media. "The Ool, or Oily sandwich:--rare gormandizing then; for oily it wascalled, because of fat old joints, and hams, and rounds, and barons ofsea-beeves and walrusses, which then crowned the stratum-board. Allpiled together, glorious profusion!--fillets and briskets, rumps, andsaddles, and haunches; shoulder to shoulder, loin 'gainst sirloin, ribs rapping knuckles, and quarter to none. And all these sandwichedright over all that went before. Course after course, and course oncourse, my lord; no time to clear the wreck; no stop nor let; lay onand slash; cut, thrust, and come. "Next the Chalk, or Coral sandwich; but no dry fare for that; made upof rich side-courses, --eocene, miocene, and pliocene. The first waswild game for the delicate, --bantam larks, curlews, quails, and flyingweazels; with a slight sprinkling of pilaus, --capons, pullets, plovers, and garnished with petrels' eggs. Very savory, that, my lord. The second side-course--miocene--was out of course, flesh after fowl:marine mammalia, --seals, grampuses, and whales, served up with sea-weed on their flanks, hearts and kidneys deviled, and fins andflippers friccasied. All very thee, my lord. The third side-course, the pliocene, was goodliest of all:--whole-roasted elephants, rhinoceroses, and hippopotamuses, stuffed with boiled ostriches, condors, cassowaries, turkeys. Also barbacued mastodons andmegatheriums, gallantly served up with fir-trees in their mouths, andtails cock-billed. "Thus fared the old diluvians: arrant gormandizers and beef-bolters. We Mardians famish on the superficial strata of deposits; cracking ourjaws on walnuts, filberts, cocoa-nuts, and clams. My lord, I've done. " "And bravely done it is. Mohi tells us, that Mardi was made in sixdays; but you, Babbalanja, have built it up from the bottom in lessthan six minutes. " "Nothing for us geologists, my lord. At a word we turn you out wholesystems, suns, satellites, and asteroids included. Why, my good lord, my friend Annonimo is laying out a new Milky Way, to intersect withthe old one, and facilitate cross-cuts among the comets. " And so saying, Babbalanja turned aside. CHAPTER XXIXThey Still Remain Upon The Rock "Gogle-goggle, fugle-fi, fugle-fogle-orum, " so hummed to himselfBabbalanja, slowly pacing over the fossils. "Is he crazy again?"whispered Yoomy. "Are you crazy, Babbalanja?" asked Media. "From my very birth have I been so, my lord; am I not possessed by adevil?" "Then I'll e'en interrogate him, " cried Media. "--Hark ye, sirrah;--why rave you thus in this poor mortal?" "'Tis he, not I. I am the mildest devil that ever entered man; inpropria persona, no antlers do I wear; my tail has lost its barb, asat last your Mardian lions lose their caudal horns. " "A very sing-song devil this. But, prithee, who are you, sirrah?" "The mildest devil that ever entered man; in propria persona, noantlers do I wear; my tail has lost its barb, as at last your Mardianlions lose their caudal horns. " "A very iterating devil this. Sirrah! mock me not. Know you aught yetunrevealed by Babbalanja?" "Many things I know, not good to tell; whence they call me Azzageddi. " "A very confidential devil, this; that tells no secrets. Azzageddi, can I drive thee out?" "Only with this mortal's ghost:--together we came in, together wedepart. " "A very terse, and ready devil, this. Whence come you, Azzageddi?" "Whither my catechist must go--a torrid clime, cut by a hot equator. " "A very keen, and witty devil, this. Azzageddi, whom have you there?" "A right down merry, jolly set, that at a roaring furnace sit andtoast their hoofs for aye; so used to flames, they poke the fire withtheir horns, and light their tails for torches. " "A very funny devil, this. Azzageddi, is not Mardi a place farpleasanter, than that from whence you came?" "Ah, home! sweet, sweet, home! would, would that I were home again!" "A very sentimental devil, this. Azzageddi, would you had a hand, I'dshake it. " "Not so with us; who, rear to rear, shake each other's tails, andcourteously inquire, 'Pray, worthy sir, how now stands the greatthermometer?'" "The very prince of devils, this. " "How mad our Babbalanja is, " cried Mohi. My lord, take heed; he'llbite. " "Alas! alas!" sighed Yoomy. "Hark ye, Babbalanja, " cried Media, "enough of this: doff your devil, and be a man. " "My lord, I can not doff him; but I'll down him for a time: Azzageddi!down, imp; down, down, down! so: now, my lord, I'm only Babbalanja. " "Shall I test his sanity, my lord?" cried Mohi. "Do, old man. " "Philosopher, our great reef is surrounded by an ocean; what think youlies beyond?" "Alas!" sighed Yoomy, "the very subject to renew his madness. " "Peace, minstrel!" said Media. "Answer, Babbalanja. " "I will, my lord. Fear not, sweet Yoomy; you see how calm I am. Braid-Beard, those strangers, that came to Mondoldo prove isles afar, as aphilosopher of old surmised, but was hooted at for his surmisings. Noris it at all impossible, Braid-Beard, that beyond their land may existother regions, of which those strangers know not; peopled with racessomething like us Mardians; but perhaps with more exalted faculties, and organs that we lack. They may have some better seeing sense thanours; perhaps, have fins or wings for arms. " "This seems not like sanity, " muttered Mohi. "A most crazy hypothesis, truly, " said Media. "And are all inductions vain?" cried Babbalanja. "Have we mortalsnaught to rest on, but what we see with eyes? Is no faith to bereposed in that inner microcosm, wherein we see the charted universein little, as the whole horizon is mirrored in the iris of a gnat?Alas! alas! my lord, is there no blest Odonphi? no Astrazzi?" "His devil's uppermost again, my lord, " cried Braid-Beard. "He's stark, stark mad!" sighed Yoomy. "Ay, the moon's at full, " said Media. "Ho, paddlers! we depart. " CHAPTER XXXBehind And Before It was yet moonlight when we pushed from the islet. But soon, the skygrew dun; the moon went into a cavern among the clouds; and by thatsecret sympathy between our hearts and the elements, the thoughts ofall but Media became overcast. Again discourse was had of that dark intelligence from Mondoldo, --thefell murder of Taji's follower. Said Mohi, "Those specter sons of Aleema must have been the assassins. " "They harbored deadly malice, " said Babbalanja. "Which poor Jarl's death must now have sated, " sighed Yoomy. "Then all the happier for Taji, " said Media. "But away with gloom!because the sky is clouded, why cloud your brows? Babbalanja, I grievethe moon is gone. Yet start some paradox, that we may laugh. Say awoman is a man, or you yourself a stork. " At this they smiled. When hurtling came an arrow, which struck ourstern, and quivered. Another! and another! Grazing the canopy, theydarted by, and hissing, dived like red-hot bars beneath the waves. Starting, we beheld a corruscating wake, tracking the course of a lowcanoe, far flying for a neighboring mountain. The next moment it waslost within the mountain's shadow and pursuit was useless. "Let us fly!" cried Yoomy "Peace! What murderers these?" said Media, calmly; "whom can theyseek?--you, Taji?" "The three avengers fly three bolts, " said Babbalanja. "See if thearrow yet remain astern, " cried Media. They brought it to him. "By Oro! Taji on the barb!" "Then it missed its aim. But I will not mine. And whatever arrowsfollow, still will I hunt on. Nor does the ghost, that these palespecters would avenge, at all disquiet me. The priest I slew, but togain her, now lost; and I would slay again, to bring her back. Ah, Yillah! Yillah. " All started. Then said Babbalanja, "Aleema's sons raved not; 'tis true, then, Taji, that an evil deed gained you your Yillah: no wonder she is lost. " Said Media, unconcernedly, "Perhaps better, Taji, to have kept yoursecret; but tell no more; I care not to be your foe. " "Ah, Taji! I had shrank from you, " cried Yoomy, "but for the mark uponyour brow. That undoes the tenor of your words. But look, the starscome forth, and who are these? A waving Iris! ay, again they come:--Hautia's heralds!" They brought a black thorn, buried in withered rose-balm blossoms, redand blue. Said Yoomy, "For that which stings, there is no cure, " "Who, who is Hautia, that she stabs me thus?" "And this wild sardony mocks your misery. " "Away! ye fiends. " "Again a Venus car; and lo! a wreath of strawberries!--Yet fly to me, and be garlanded with joys. " "Let the wild witch laugh. She moves me not. Neither hurtling arrowsnor Circe flowers appall. " Said Yoomy, "They wait reply. " "Tell your Hautia, that I know her not; nor care to know. I defy herincantations; she lures in vain. Yillah! Yillah! still I hope!" Slowly they departed; heeding not my cries no more to follow. Silence, and darkness fell. CHAPTER XXXIBabbalanja Discourses In The Dark Next day came and went; and still we onward sailed. At last, by night, there fell a calm, becalming the water of the wide lagoon, andbecalming all the clouds in heaven, wailing the constellations. Butthough our sails were useless, our paddlers plied their broad stoutblades. Thus sweeping by a rent and hoar old rock, Vee-Vee, impatientof the calm, sprang to his crow's nest in the shark's mouth, andseizing his conch, sounded a blast which ran in and out among thehollows, reverberating with the echoes. Be sure, it was startling. But more so with respect to one of ourpaddlers, upon whose shoulders, elevated Vee-Vee, his balance lost, all at once came down by the run. But the heedless little buglerhimself was most injured by the fall; his arm nearly being broken. Some remedies applied, and the company grown composed, Babbalanjathus:--"My lord Media, was there any human necessity for thataccident?" "None that I know, or care to tell, Babbalanja. " "Vee-Vee, " said Babbalanja, "did you fall on purpose?" "Not I, " sobbed little Vee-Vee, slinging his ailing arm in its mate. "Woe! woe to us all, then, " cried Babbalanja; "for what direful eventsmay be in store for us which we can not avoid. " "How now, mortal?" cried Media; "what now?" "My lord, think of it. Minus human inducement from without, and minusvolition from within, Vee-Vee has met with an accident, which hasalmost maimed him for life. Is it not terrifying to think of? Are notall mortals exposed to similar, nay, worse calamities, ineffablyunavoidable? Woe, woe, I say, to us Mardians! Here, take my lastbreath; let me give up this beggarly ghost!" "Nay, " said Media; "pause, Babbalanja. Turn it not adrift prematurely. Let it house till midnight; the proper time for you mortals todissolve. But, philosopher, if you harp upon Vee-Vee's mishap, knowthat it was owing to nothing but his carelessness. " "And what was that owing to, my lord?" "To Vee-Vee himself. " "Then, my lord, what brought such a careless being into Mardi?" "A long course of generations. He's some one's great-great-grandson, doubtless; who was great-great-grandson to some one else; who also hadgrandsires. " "Many thanks then to your highness; for you establish the doctrine ofPhilosophical Necessity. " "No. I establish nothing; I but answer your questions. " "All one, my lord: you are a Necessitarian; in other words, you holdthat every thing takes place through absolute necessity. " "Do you take me, then, for a fool, and a Fatalist? Pardie! a bad creedfor a monarch, the distributor of rewards and punishments. " "Right there, my lord. But, for all that, your highness is aNecessitarian, yet no Fatalist. Confound not the distinct. Fatalismpresumes express and irrevocable edicts of heaven concerningparticular events. Whereas, Necessity holds that all events arenaturally linked, and inevitably follow each other, withoutprovidential interposition, though by the eternal letting ofProvidence. " "Well, well, Babbalanja, I grant it all. Go on. " "On high authority, we are told that in times past the fall of certainnations in Mardi was prophesied of seers. " "Most true, my lord, " said Mohi; "it is all down in the chronicles. " "Ha! ha!" cried Media. "Go on, philosopher. " Continued Babbalanja, "Previous to the time assigned to theirfulfillment, those prophecies were bruited through Mardi; hence, previous to the time assigned to their fulfillment, full knowledge ofthem may have come to the nations concerned. Now, my lord, was itpossible for those nations, thus forwarned, so to conduct theiraffairs, as at, the prophesied time, to prove false the eventsrevealed to be in store for them?" "However that may be, " said Mohi, "certain it is, those events didassuredly come to pass:--Compare the ruins of Babbelona with bookninth, chapter tenth, of the chronicles. Yea, yea, the owl inhabitswhere the seers predicted; the jackals yell in the tombs of thekings. " "Go on, Babbalanja, " said Media. "Of course those nations could nothave resisted their doom. Go on, then: vault over your premises. " "If it be, then, my lord, that--" "My very worshipful lord, " interposed Mohi, "is not our philosophergetting off soundings; and may it not be impious to meddle with thesethings?" "Were it so, old man, he should have known it. The king of Odo issomething more than you mortals. " "But are we the great gods themselves, " cried Yoomy, "that wediscourse of these things. " "No, minstrel, " said Babbalanja; "and no need have the great gods todiscourse of things perfectly comprehended by them, and by themselvesordained. But you and I, Yoomy, are men, and not gods; hence is it forus, and not for them, to take these things for our themes. Nor isthere any impiety in the right use of our reason, whatever the issue. Smote with superstition, shall we let it wither and die out, a dead, limb to a live trunk, as the mad devotee's arm held up motionless foryears? Or shall we employ it but for a paw, to help us to our bodilyneeds, as the brutes use their instinct? Is not reason subtile asquicksilver--live as lightning--a neighing charger to advance, but asnail to recede? Can we starve that noble instinct in us, and hopethat it will survive? Better slay the body than the soul; and if it bethe direst of sins to be the murderers of our own bodies, how muchmore to be a soul-suicide. Yoomy, we are men, we are angels. And inhis faculties, high Oro is but what a man would be, infinitelymagnified. Let us aspire to all things. Are we babes in the woods, tobe scared by the shadows of the trees? What shall appall us? If eaglesgaze at the sun, may not men at the gods?" "For one, " said Media, "you may gaze at me freely. Gaze on. But talknot of my kinsmen so fluently, Babbalanja. Return to your argument. " "I go back then, my lord. By implication, you have granted, that intimes past the future was foreknown of Oro; hence, in times past, thefuture must have been foreordained. But in all things Oro isimmutable. Wherefore our own future is foreknown and foreordained. Now, if things foreordained concerning nations have in times past beenrevealed to them previous to their taking place, then somethingsimilar may be presumable concerning individual men now living. Thatis to say, out of all the events destined to befall any one man, it isnot impossible that previous knowledge of some one of these eventsmight supernaturally come to him. Say, then, it is revealed to me, that ten days hence I shall, of my own choice, fall upon my javelin;when the time comes round, could I refrain from suicide? Grant thestrongest presumable motives to the act; grant that, unforewarned, Iwould slay myself outright at the time appointed: yet, foretold of it, and resolved to test the decree to the uttermost, under suchcircumstances, I say, would it be possible for me not to kill myself?If possible, then predestination is not a thing absolute; and Heavenis wise to keep secret from us those decrees, whose virtue consists insecrecy. But if not possible, then that suicide would not be mine, butOro's. And, by consequence, not only that act, but all my acts, areOro's. In sum, my lord, he who believes that in times past, prophetshave prophesied, and their prophecies have been fulfilled; when put toit, inevitably must allow that every man now living is anirresponsible being. " "In sooth, a very fine argument very finely argued, " said Media. "Youhave done marvels, Babbalanja. But hark ye, were I so disposed, Icould deny you all over, premises and conclusions alike. Andfurthermore, my cogent philosopher, had you published that anarchicaldogma among my subjects in Oro, I had silenced you by my spear-headedscepter, instead of my uplifted finger. " "Then, all thanks and all honor to your generosity, my lord, ingranting us the immunities you did at the outset of this voyage. But, my lord, permit me one word more. Is not Oro omnipresent--absolutelyevery where?" "So you mortals teach, Babbalanja. " "But so do they _mean_, my lord. Often do we Mardians stick to termsfor ages, yet truly apply not their meanings. " "Well, Oro is every where. What now?" "Then, if that be absolutely so, Oro is not merely a universal on-looker, but occupies and fills all space; and no vacancy is left forany being, or any thing but Oro. Hence, Oro is _in_ all things, andhimself _is_ all things--the time-old creed. But since evil abounds, and Oro is all things, then he can not be perfectly good; wherefore, Oro's omnipresence and moral perfection seem incompatible. Furthermore, my lord those orthodox systems which ascribe to Oroalmighty and universal attributes every way, those systems, I say, destroy all intellectual individualities but Oro, and resolve theuniverse into him. But this is a heresy; wherefore, orthodoxy andheresy are one. And thus is it, my lord, that upon these matters weMardians all agree and disagree together, and kill each other withweapons that burst in our hands. Ah, my lord, with what mind mustblessed Oro look down upon this scene! Think you he discriminatesbetween the deist and atheist? Nay; for the Searcher of the cores ofall hearts well knoweth that atheists there are none. For in thingsabstract, men but differ in the sounds that come from their mouths, and not in the wordless thoughts lying at the bottom of their beings. The universe is all of one mind. Though my twin-brother sware to me, by the blazing sun in heaven at noon-day, that Oro is not; yet wouldhe belie the thing he intended to express. And who lives thatblasphemes? What jargon of human sounds so puissant as to insult theunutterable majesty divine? Is Oro's honor in the keeping of Mardi?--Oro's conscience in man's hands? Where our warrant, with Oro's sign-manual, to justify the killing, burning, and destroying, or far worse, the social persecutions we institute in his behalf? Ah! how shallthese self-assumed attorneys and vicegerents be astounded, when theyshall see all heaven peopled with heretics and heathens, and all hellnodding over with miters! Ah! let us Mardians quit this insanity. Letus be content with the theology in the grass and the flower, in seed-time and harvest. Be it enough for us to know that Oro indubitably is. My lord! my lord! sick with the spectacle of the madness of men, andbroken with spontaneous doubts, I sometimes see but two things in allMardi to believe:--that I myself exist, and that I can most happily, or least miserably exist, by the practice of righteousness. All elseis in the clouds; and naught else may I learn, till the firmament besplit from horizon to horizon. Yet, alas! too often do I swing fromthese moorings. " "Alas! his fit is coming upon him again, " whispered Yoomy. "Why, Babbalanja, " said Media, "I almost pity you. You are too warm, too warm. Why fever your soul with these things? To no use you mortalswax earnest. No thanks, but curses, will you get for your earnestness. You yourself you harm most. Why not take creeds as they come? It isnot so hard to be persuaded; never mind about believing. " "True, my lord; not very hard; no act is required; only passiveness. Stand still and receive. Faith is to the thoughtless, doubts to thethinker. " "Then, why think at all? Is it not better for you mortals to clutcherror as in a vice, than have your fingers meet in your hand? And towhat end your eternal inquisitions? You have nothing to substitute. You say all is a lie; then out with the truth. Philosopher, your devilis but a foolish one, after all. I, a demi-god, never say nay to thesethings. " "Yea, my lord, it would hardly answer for Oro himself, were he to comedown to Mardi, to deny men's theories concerning him. Did they notstrike at the rash deity in Alma?" "Then, why deny those theories yourself? Babbalanja, you almost affectmy immortal serenity. Must you forever be a sieve for good /grain torun through, while you retain but the chaff? Your tongue is forked. You speak two languages: flat folly for yourself, and wisdom forothers. Babbalanja, if you have any belief of your own, keep it; but, in Oro's name, keep it secret. " "Ay, my lord, in these things wise men are spectators, not actors;wise men look on, and say 'ay. '" "Why not say so yourself, then?" "My lord, because I have often told you, that I am a fool, and not wise. " "Your Highness, " said Mohi, "this whole discourse seems to have grownout of the subject of Necessity and Free Will. Now, when a boy, Irecollect hearing a sage say, that these things were reconcilable. " "Ay?" said Media, "what say you to that, now, Babbalanja?" "It may be even so, my lord. Shall I tell you a story?" "Azzageddi's stirring now, " muttered Mohi. "Proceed, " said Media. "King Normo had a fool, called Willi, whom he loved to humor. Now, though Willi ever obeyed his lord, by the very instinct of hisservitude, he flattered himself that he was free; and this conceit itwas, that made the fool so entertaining to the king. One day, saidNormo to his fool, --'Go, Willi, to yonder tree, and wait there till Icome, ' 'Your Majesty, I will, ' said Willi, bowing beneath his jinglingbells; 'but I presume your Majesty has no objections to my walking onmy hands:--I am free, I hope. ' 'Perfectly, ' said Normo, 'hands orfeet, it's all the same to me; only do my bidding. ' 'I thought asmuch, ' said Willi; so, swinging his limber legs into the air, Willi, thumb after thumb, essayed progression. But soon, his bottled blood sorushed downward through his neck, that he was fain to turn a somersetand regain his feet. Said he, 'Though I am free to do it, it's not soeasy turning digits into toes; I'll walk, by gad! which is my otheroption. ' So he went straight forward, and did King Normo's bidding inthe natural way. " "A curious story that, " said Media; "whence came it?" "My lord, where every thing, but one, is to be had:--within. " "You are charged to the muzzle, then, " said Braid-Beard. "Yes, Mohi;and my talk is my overflowing, not my fullness. " "And what may you be so full of?" "Of myself. " "So it seems, " said Mohi, whisking away a fly with his beard. "Babbalanja, " said Media, "you did right in selecting this ebon nightfor discussing the theme you did; and truly, you mortals are but tooapt to talk in the dark. " "Ay, my lord, and we mortals may prate still more in the dark, when weare dead; for methinks, that if we then prate at all, 'twill be in oursleep. Ah! my lord, think not that in aught I've said this night, Iwould assert any wisdom of my own. I but fight against the armed andcrested Lies of Mardi, that like a host, assail me. I am stuck full ofdarts; but, tearing them from out me, gasping, I discharge them whencethey come. " So saying, Babbalanja slowly drooped, and fell reclining; then laymotionless as the marble Gladiator, that for centuries has been dying. CHAPTER XXXIIMy Lord Media Summons Mohi To The Stand While slowly the night wore on, and the now scudding clouds flownpast, revealed again the hosts in heaven, few words were uttered saveby Media; who, when all others were most sad and silent, seemed butlittle moved, or not stirred a jot. But that night, he filled his flagon fuller than his wont, and drank, and drank, and pledged the stars. "Here's to thee, old Arcturus! To thee, old Aldebaran! who ever poiseyour wine-red, fiery spheres on high. A health to _thee_, my regalfriend, Alphacca, in the constellation of the Crown: Lo! crown tocrown, I pledge thee! I drink to _ye_, too, Alphard! Markab! Denebola!Capella!--to _ye_, too, sailing Cygnus! Aquila soaring!--All round, ahealth to all your diadems! May they never fade! nor mine!" At last, in the shadowy east, the Dawn, like a gray, distant sailbefore the wind, was descried; drawing nearer and nearer, till hergilded prow was perceived. And as in tropic gales, the winds blow fierce, and more fierce, withthe advent of the sun; so with King Media; whose mirth now breezed upafresh. But, as at sunrise, the sea-storm only blows harder, to settledown at last into a steady wind; even so, in good time, my lord Mediacame to be more decorous of mood. And Babbalanja abated his reveries. For who might withstand such a morn! As on the night-banks of the far-rolling Ganges, the royal bridegroomsets forth for his bride, preceded by nymphs, now this side, now that, lighting up all the flowery flambeaux held on high as they pass; socame the Sun, to his nuptials with Mardi:--the Hours going on before, touching all the peaks, till they glowed rosy-red. By reflex, the lagoon, here and there, seemed on fire; each curlingwave-crest a flame. Noon came as we sailed. And now, citrons and bananas, cups and calabashes, calumets andtobacco, were passed round; and we were all very merry and mellowindeed. Smacking our lips, chatting, smoking, and sipping. Now amouthful of citron to season a repartee; now a swallow of wine to washdown a precept; now a fragrant whiff to puff away care. Many thingsdid beguile. From side to side, we turned and grazed, like Juno'swhite oxen in clover meads. Soon, we drew nigh to a charming cliff, overrun with woodbines, onhigh suspended from flowering Tamarisk and Tamarind-trees. Theblossoms of the Tamarisks, in spikes of small, red bells; theTamarinds, wide-spreading their golden petals, red-streaked as withstreaks of the dawn. Down sweeping to the water, the vines trailedover to the crisp, curling waves, --little pages, all eager to hold uptheir trains. Within, was a bower; going behind it, like standing inside the sheetof the falls of the Genesee. In this arbor we anchored. And with their shaded prows thrust in amongthe flowers, our three canoes seemed baiting by the way, like weariedsteeds in a hawthorn lane. High midsummer noon is more silent than night. Most sweet a siestathen. And noon dreams are day-dreams indeed; born under the meridiansun. Pale Cynthia begets pale specter shapes; and her frigid rays bestilluminate white nuns, marble monuments, icy glaciers, and cold tombs. The sun rolled on. And starting to his feet, arms clasped, and wildlystaring, Yoomy exclaimed--"Nay, nay, thou shalt not depart, thoumaid!--here, here I fold thee for aye!--Flown?--A dream! Then siestashenceforth while I live. And at noon, every day will I meet thee, sweet maid! And, oh Sun! set not; and poppies bend over us, when nextwe embrace!" "What ails that somnambulist?" cried Media, rising. "Yoomy, I say!what ails thee?" "He must have indulged over freely in those citrons, " said Mohi, sympathetically rubbing his fruitery. "Ho, Yoomy! a swallow of brinewill help thee. " "Alas, " cried Babbalanja, "do the fairies then wait on repletion? Doour dreams come from below, and not from the skies? Are we angels, ordogs? Oh, Man, Man, Man! thou art harder to solve, than the IntegralCalculus--yet plain as a primer; harder to find than thephilosopher's-stone--yet ever at hand; a more cunning compound, thanan alchemist's--yet a hundred weight of flesh, to a penny weight ofspirit; soul and body glued together, firm as atom to atom, seamlessas the vestment without joint, warp or woof--yet divided as by ariver, spirit from flesh; growing both ways, like a tree, and droppingthy topmost branches to earth, like thy beard or a banian!--I givethee up, oh Man! thou art twain--yet indivisible; all things--yet apoor unit at best. " "Philosopher you seem puzzled to account for the riddles of yourrace, " cried Media, sideways reclining at his ease. "Now, do thou, oldMohi, stand up before a demi-god, and answer for all. --Draw nigh, so Ican eye thee. What art thou, mortal?" "My worshipful lord, a man. " "And what are men?" "My lord, before thee is a specimen. " "I fear me, my lord will get nothing out of that witness, " saidBabbalanja. "Pray you, King Media, let another inquisitor cross-question. " "Proceed; take the divan. " "A pace or two farther off, there, Mohi; so I can garner thee all inat a glance. --Attention! Rememberest thou, fellow-being, when thouwast born?" "Not I. Old Braid-Beard had no memory then. " "When, then, wast thou first conscious of being?" "What time I was teething: my first sensation was an ache. " "What dost thou, fellow-being, here in Mardi?" "What doth Mardi here, fellow-being, under me?" "Philosopher, thou gainest but little by thy questions, " cried Yoomyadvancing. "Let a poet endeavor. " "I abdicate in your favor, then, gentle Yoomy; let me smooth the divanfor you;--there: be seated. " "Now, Mohi, who art thou?" said Yoomy, nodding his bird-of-paradiseplume. "The sole witness, it seems, in this case. " "Try again minstrel, " cried Babbalanja. "Then, what art thou, Mohi?" "Even what thou art, Yoomy. " "He is too sharp or too blunt for us all, " cried King Media. "Hisdevil is even more subtle than yours, Babbalanja. Let him go. " "Shall I adjourn the court then, my lord?" said Babbalanja. "Ay. " "Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! All mortals having business at this court, know ye, that it is adjourned till sundown of the day, which hath no to-morrow. " CHAPTER XXXIIIWherein Babbalanja And Yoomy Embrace "How the isles grow and multiply around us!" cried Babbalanja, asturning the bold promontory of an uninhabited shore, many distantlands bluely loomed into view. "Surely, our brief voyage, may notembrace all Mardi like its reef?" "No, " said Media, "much must be left unseen. Nor every where canYillah be sought, noble Taji. " Said Yoomy, "We are as birds, with pinions clipped, that inunfathomable and endless woods, but flit from twig to twig of one poortree. " "More isles! more isles!" cried Babbalanja, erect, and gazing abroad. "And lo! round all is heaving that infinite ocean. Ah! gods! whatregions lie beyond?" "But whither now?" he cried, as in obedience to Media, the paddlerssuddenly altered our course. "To the bold shores of Diranda, " said Media. "Ay; the land of clubs and javelins, where the lord seigniors Helloand Piko celebrate their famous games, " cried Mohi. "Your clubs and javelins, " said Media, "remind me of the great battle-chant of Narvi--Yoomy!"--turning to the minstrel, gazing abstractedlyinto the water;--"awake, Yoomy, and give us the lines. " "My lord Media, 'tis but a rude, clanging thing; dissonant as if thenorth wind blew through it. Methinks the company will not fancy linesso inharmonious. Better sing you, perhaps, one of my sonnets. " "Better sit and sob in our ears, silly Yoomy that thou art!--no! no!none of your sentiment now; my soul is martially inclined; I wantclarion peals, not lute warblings. So throw out your chest, Yoomy:lift high your voice; and blow me the old battle-blast. --Begin, sirminstrel. " And warning all, that he himself had not composed the odious chant, Yoomy thus:-- Our clubs! our clubs! The thousand clubs of Narvi! Of the living trunk of the Palm-tree made; Skull breakers! Brain spatterers! Wielded right, and wielded left; Life quenchers! Death dealers! Causing live bodies to run headless! Our bows! our bows! The thousand bows of Narvi! Ribs of Tara, god of War! Fashioned from the light Tola their arrows; Swift messengers! Heart piercers! Barbed with sharp pearl shells; Winged with white tail-plumes; To wild death-chants, strung with the hair of wild maidens! Our spears! our spears! The thousand spears of Narvi! Of the thunder-riven Moo-tree made Tall tree, couched on the long mountain Lana! No staves for gray-beards! no rods for fishermen! Tempered by fierce sea-winds, Splintered into lances by lightnings, Long arrows! Heart seekers! Toughened by fire their sharp black points! Our slings! our slings! The thousand slings of Narvi! All tasseled, and braided, and gayly bedecked. In peace, our girdles; in war, our war-nets; Wherewith catch we heads as fish from the deep! The pebbles they hurl, have been hurled before, -- Hurled up on the beach by the stormy sea! Pebbles, buried erewhile in the head of the shark: To be buried erelong in the heads of our foes! Home of hard blows, our pouches! Nest of death-eggs! How quickly they hatch! Uplift, and couch we our spears, men! Ring hollow on the rocks our war clubs! Bend we our bows, feel the points of our arrows: Aloft, whirl in eddies our sling-nets; To the fight, men of Narvi! Sons of battle! Hunters of men! Raise high your war-wood! Shout Narvi! her groves in the storm! "By Oro!" cried Media, "but Yoomy has well nigh stirred up allBabbalanja's devils in me. Were I a mortal, I could fight now on apretense. And did any man say me nay, I would charge upon him like aspear-point. Ah, Yoomy, thou and thy tribe have much to answer for; yestir up all Mardi with your lays. Your war chants make men fight; yourdrinking songs, drunkards; your love ditties, fools. Yet there thousittest, Yoomy, gentle as a dove. --What art thou, minstrel, that thysoft, singing soul should so master all mortals? Yoomy, like me, yousway a scepter. " "Thou honorest my calling overmuch, " said Yoomy, we minstrels but singour lays carelessly, my lord Media. " "Ay: and the more mischief they make. " "But sometimes we poets are didactic. " "Didactic and dull; many of ye are but too apt to be prosy unlessmischievous. " "Yet in our verses, my lord Media, but few of us purpose harm. " "But when all harmless to yourselves, ye may be otherwise to Mardi. " "And are not foul streams often traced to pure fountains, my lord?"said Babbalanja. "The essence of all good and all evil is in us, notout of us. Neither poison nor honey lodgeth in the flowers on which, side by side, bees and wasps oft alight. My lord, nature is animmaculate virgin, forever standing unrobed before us. True poets butpaint the charms which all eyes behold. The vicious would be viciouswithout them. " "My lord Media, " impetuously resumed Yoomy, "I am sensible of athousand sweet, merry fancies, limpid with innocence; yet my enemiesaccount them all lewd conceits. " "There be those in Mardi, " said Babbalanja, "who would never ascribeevil to others, did they not find it in their own hearts; believingnone can be different from themselves. " "My lord, my lord!" cried Yoomy. "The air that breathes my music fromme is a mountain air! Purer than others am I; for though not a woman, I feel in me a woman's soul. " "Ah, have done, silly Yoomy, " said Media. "Thou art becoming flighty, even as Babbalanja, when Azzageddi is uppermost. " "Thus ever: ever thus!" sighed Yoomy. "They comprehend us not. " "Nor me, " said Babbalanja. "Yoomy: poets both, we differ but inseeming; thy airiest conceits are as the shadows of my deepestponderings; though Yoomy soars, and Babbalanja dives, both meet atlast. Not a song you sing, but I have thought its thought; and wheredull Mardi sees but your rose, I unfold its petals, and disclose apearl. Poets are we, Yoomy, in that we dwell without us; we live ingrottoes, palms, and brooks; we ride the sea, we ride the sky; poetsare omnipresent. " CHAPTER XXXIVOf The Isle Of Diranda In good time the shores of Diranda were in sight. And, introductory tolanding, Braid-Beard proceeded to give us some little account of theisland, and its rulers. As previously hinted, those very magnificent and illustrious lordseigniors, the lord seigniors Hello and Piko, who between them dividedDiranda, delighted in all manner of public games, especially warlikeones; which last were celebrated so frequently, and were so fatal intheir results, that, not-withstanding the multiplicity of nuptialstaking place in the isle, its population remained in equilibrio. But, strange to relate, this was the very object which the lord seigniorshad in view; the very object they sought to compass, by institutingtheir games. Though, for the most part, they wisely kept the secretlocked up. But to tell how the lord seigniors Hello and Piko came to join handsin this matter. Diranda had been amicably divided between them ever since the day theywere crowned; one reigning king in the East, the other in the West. But King Piko had been long harassed with the thought, that theunobstructed and indefinite increase of his browsing subjects mighteventually denude of herbage his portion of the island. Posterity, thought he, is marshaling her generations in squadrons, brigades, andbattalions, and ere long will be down upon my devoted empire. Lo! herlocust cavalry darken the skies; her light-troop pismires cover theearth. Alas! my son and successor, thou wilt inhale choke-damp forair, and have not a private corner to say thy prayers. By a sort of arithmetical progression, the probability, nay, thecertainty of these results, if not in some way averted, was proved toKing Piko; and he was furthermore admonished, that war--war to thehaft with King Hello--was the only cure for so menacing an evil. But so it was, that King Piko, at peace with King Hello, and wellcontent with, the tranquillity of the times, little relished the ideaof picking a quarrel with his neighbor, and running its risks, inorder to phlebotomize his redundant population. "Patience, most illustrious seignior, " said another of his sagaciousAhithophels, "and haply a pestilence may decimate the people. " But no pestilence came. And in every direction the young men andmaidens were recklessly rushing into wedlock; and so salubrious theclimate, that the old men stuck to the outside of the turf, andrefused to go under. At last some Machiavel of a philosopher suggested, that peradventurethe object of war might be answered without going to war; thatperadventure King Hello might be brought to acquiesce in anarrangement, whereby the men of Diranda might be induced to kill offone another voluntarily, in a peaceable manner, without troublingtheir rulers. And to this end, the games before mentioned wereproposed. "Egad! my wise ones, you have hit it, " cried Piko; "but will Hello sayay?" "Try him, most illustrious seignior, " said Machiavel. So to Hello went embassadors ordinary and extraordinary, and ministersplenipotentiary and peculiar; and anxiously King Piko awaited theirreturn. The mission was crowned with success. Said King Hello to the ministers, in confidence:--"The very thing, Dons, the very thing I have wanted. My people are increasing too fast. They keep up the succession too well. Tell your illustrious masterit's a bargain. The games! the games! by all means. " So, throughout the island, by proclamation, they were forthwithestablished; succeeding to a charm. And the lord seigniors, Hello and Piko, finding their interests thesame, came together like bride and bridegroom; lived in the samepalace; dined off the same cloth; cut from the same bread-fruit; drankfrom the same calabash; wore each other's crowns; and often lockingarms with a charming frankness, paced up and down in their dominions, discussing the prospect of the next harvest of heads. In his old-fashioned way, having related all this, with many otherparticulars, Mohi was interrupted by Babbalanja, who inquired how thepeople of Diranda relished the games, and how they fancied beingcoolly thinned out in that manner. To which in substance the chronicler replied, that of the true objectof the games, they had not the faintest conception; but hammered awayat each other, and fought and died together, like jolly good fellows. "Right again, immortal old Bardianna!" cried Babbalanja. "And what has the sage to the point this time?" asked Media. "Why, my lord, in his chapter on "Cracked Crowns, " Bardianna, aftermany profound ponderings, thus concludes: In this cracked sphere welive in, then, cracked skulls would seem the inevitable allotments ofmany. Nor will the splintering thereof cease, till this pugnaciousanimal we treat of be deprived of his natural maces: videlicet, hisarms. And right well doth man love to bruise and batter all occiputsin his vicinity. " "Seems to me, our old friend must have been on his stilts that time, "interrupted Mohi. "No, Braid-Beard. But by way of apologizing for the unusual rigidityof his style in that chapter, he says in a note, that it was writtenupon a straight-backed settle, when he was ill of a lumbago, and acrick in the neck. " "That incorrigible Azzageddi again, " said Media, "Proceed with yourquotation, Babbalanja. " "Where was I, Braid-Beard?" "Battering occiputs at the last accounts, " said Mohi. "Ah, yes. And right well doth man love to bruise and batter allocciputs in his vicinity; he but follows his instincts; he is but onemember of a fighting world. Spiders, vixens, and tigers all war with arelish; and on every side is heard the howls of hyenas, thethrottlings of mastiffs, the din of belligerant beetles, the buzzingwarfare of the insect battalions: and the shrill cries of lady Tartarsrending their lords. And all this existeth of necessity. To war it is, and other depopulators, that we are beholden for elbow-room in Mardiand for all our parks an gardens, wherein we are wont to expatiate. Come on, then, plague, war, famine and viragos! Come on, I say, forwho shall stay ye? Come on, and healthfulize the census! And moreespecially, oh War! do thou march forth with thy bludgeon! Crackedare, our crowns by nature, and henceforth forever, cracked shall theybe by hard raps. " "And hopelessly cracked the skull, that hatched such a tirade ofnonsense, " said Mohi. "And think you not, old Bardianna knew that?" asked Babbalanja. "Hewrote an excellent chapter on that very subject. " "What, on the cracks in his own pate?" "Precisely. And expressly asserts, that to those identical cracks, washe indebted for what little light he had in his brain. " "I yield, Babbalanja; your old Ponderer is older than I. " "Ay, ay, Braid-Beard; his crest was a tortoise; and this was themotto:--'I bite, but am not to be bitten. '" CHAPTER XXXVThey Visit The Lords Piko And Hello In good time, we landed at Diranda. And that landing was like landingat Greenwich among the Waterloo pensioners. The people were dockedright and left; some without arms; some without legs; not one with atail; but to a man, all had heads, though rather the worse for wear;covered with lumps and contusions. Now, those very magnificent and illustrious lord seigniors, the lordseigniors Hello and Piko, lived in a palace, round which was a fenceof the cane called Malacca, each picket helmed with a skull, of whichthere were fifty, one to each cane. Over the door was the blended armsof the high and mighty houses of Hello and Piko: a Clavicle crossedover an Ulna. Escorted to the sign of the Skull-and-Cross-Bones, we received thevery best entertainment which that royal inn could afford. We foundour hosts Hello and Piko seated together on a dais or throne, and nowand then drinking some claret-red wine from an ivory bowl, too largeto have been wrought from an elephant's tusk. They were in gloriousgood spirits, shaking ivory coins in a skull. "What says your majesty?" said Piko. "Heads or tails?" "Oh, heads, your majesty, " said Hello. "And heads say I, " said Piko. And heads it was. But it was heads on both sides, so both were sureto win. And thus they were used to play merrily all day long; beheading thegourds of claret by one slicing blow with their sickle-shapedscepters. Wide round them lay empty calabashes, all feathered, reddyed, and betasseled, trickling red wine from their necks, like thedecapitated pullets in the old baronial barn yard at Kenilworth, thenight before Queen Bess dined with my lord Leicester. The first compliments over; and Media and Taji having met with areception suitable to their rank, the kings inquired, whether therewere any good javelin-flingers among us: for if that were the case, they could furnish them plenty of sport. Informed, however, that noneof the party were professional warriors, their majesties looked ratherglum, and by way of chasing away the blues, called for some good oldstuff, that was red. It seems, this soliciting guests, to keep their spears from decaying, by cut and thrust play with their subjects, was a very common thingwith their illustrious majesties. But if their visitors could not be prevailed upon to spear a subjector so, our hospitable hosts resolved to have a few speared, andotherwise served up for our special entertainment. In a word, ourarrival furnished a fine pretext for renewing their games; though, welearned, that only ten days previous, upward of fifty combatants hadbeen slain at one of these festivals. Be that as it might, their joint majesties determined upon anotherone; and also upon our tarrying to behold it. We objected, saying wemust depart. But we were kindly assured, that our canoes had been dragged out ofthe water, and buried in a wood; there to remain till the games wereover. The day fixed upon, was the third subsequent to our arrival; theinterval being devoted to preparations; summoning from their villagesand valleys the warriors of the land; and publishing the royalproclamations, whereby the unbounded hospitality of the kings'household was freely offered to all heroes whatsoever, who for thelove of arms, and the honor of broken heads, desired to cross battle-clubs, hurl spears, or die game in the royal valley of Deddo. Meantime, the whole island was in a state of uproarious commotion, andstrangers were daily arriving. The spot set apart for the festival, was a spacious down, mantled withwhite asters; which, waving in windrows, lay upon the land, like thecream-surf surging the milk of young heifers. But that whiteness, hereand there, was spotted with strawberries; tracking the plain, as ifwounded creatures had been dragging themselves bleeding from somedeadly encounter. All round the down, waved scarlet thickets ofsumach, moaning in the wind, like the gory ghosts environing Pharsaliathe night after the battle; scaring away the peasants, who withbushel-baskets came to the jewel-harvest of the rings of Pompey'sknights. Beneath the heaped turf of this down, lay thousands of gloriouscorpses of anonymous heroes, who here had died glorious deaths. Whence, in the florid language of Diranda, they called this field "TheField of Glory. " CHAPTER XXXVIThey Attend The Games At last the third day dawned; and facing us upon entering the plain, was a throne of red log-wood, canopied by the foliage of a red-dyedPandannus. Upon this throne, purple-robed, reclined those verymagnificent and illustrious lords seigniors, the lord seigniors Helloand Piko. Before them, were many gourds of wine; and crosswise, stakedin the sod, their own royal spears. In the middle of the down, as if by a furrow, a long, oval space wasmargined of about which, a crowd of spectators were seated. Oppositethe throne, was reserved a clear passage to the arena, defined by air-lines, indefinitely produced from the leveled points of two spears, sopoised by a brace of warriors. Drawing near, our party was courteously received, and assigned acommodious lounge. The first encounter was a club-fight between two warriors. Nor casqueof steel, nor skull of Congo could have resisted their blows, had theyfallen upon the mark; for they seemed bent upon driving each other, asstakes, into the earth. Presently, one of them faltered; but hisadversary rushing in to cleave him down, slipped against a guavarind;when the falterer, with one lucky blow, high into the air sent thestumbler's club, which descended upon the crown of a spectator, whowas borne from the plain. "All one, " muttered Pike. "As good dead as another, " muttered Hello. The second encounter was a hugging-match; wherein two warriors, maskedin Grisly-bear skins, hugged each other to death. The third encounter was a bumping-match between a fat warrior and adwarf. Standing erect, his paunch like a bass-drum before a drummer, the fat man was run at, head-a-tilt by the dwarf, and sent spinninground on his axis. The fourth encounter was a tussle between two-score warriors, who allin a mass, writhed like the limbs in Sebastioni's painting of Hades. After obscuring themselves in a cloud of dust, these combatants, uninjured, but hugely blowing, drew off; and separately going amongthe spectators, rehearsed their experience of the fray. "Braggarts!" mumbled Piko. "Poltroons!" growled Hello. While the crowd were applauding, a sober-sided observer, trying to rubthe dust out of his eyes, inquired of an enthusiastic neighbor, "Pray, what was all that about?" "Fool! saw you not the dust?" "That I did, " said Sober-Sides, again rubbing his eyes, "But I canraise a dust myself. " The fifth encounter was a fight of single sticks between one hundredwarriors, fifty on a side. In a line, the first fifty emerged from the sumachs, their weaponsinterlocked in a sort of wicker-work. In advance marched a priest, bearing an idol with a cracked cocoanut for a head, --Krako, the god ofTrepans. Preceded by damsels flinging flowers, now came on the secondfifty, gayly appareled, weapons poised, and their feet nimbly movingin a martial measure. Midway meeting, both parties touched poles, then retreated. Verycourteous, this; but tantamount to bowing each other out of Mardi; forupon Pike's tossing a javelin, they rushed in, and each striking hisman, all fell to the ground. "Well done!" cried Piko. "Brave fellows!" cried Hello. "But up and at it again, my heroes!" joined both. "Lo! we kings lookon, and there stand the bards!" These bards were a row of lean, sallow, old men, in thread-bare robes, and chaplets of dead leaves. "Strike up!" cried Piko. "A stave!" cried Hello. Whereupon, the old croakers, each with a quinsy, sang thus in crackedstrains:-- Quack! Quack! Quack! With a toorooloo whack; Hack away, merry men, hack away. Who would not die brave, His ear smote by a stave? Thwack away, merry men, thwack away! 'Tis glory that calls, To each hero that falls, Hack away, merry men, hack away! Quack! Quack! Quack! Quack! Quack! Quack! Thus it tapered away. "Ha, ha!" cried Piko, "how they prick their ears at that!" "Hark ye, my invincibles!" cried Hello. "That pean is for the slain. So all ye who have lives left, spring to it! Die and be glorified!Now's the time!--Strike up again, my ducklings!" Thus incited, the survivors staggered to their feet; and hammeringaway at each others' sconces, till they rung like a chime of bellsgoing off with a triple-bob-major, they finally succeeded inimmortalizing themselves by quenching their mortalities all round; thebards still singing. "Never mind your music now, " cried Piko. "It's all over, " said Hello. "What valiant fellows we have for subjects, " cried Piko. "Ho! grave-diggers, clear the field, " cried Hello. "Who else is for glory?" cried Piko. "There stand the bards!" cried Hello. But now there rushed among the crowd a haggard figure, trickling withblood, and wearing a robe, whose edges were burned and blacked byfire. Wielding a club, it ran to and fro, with loud yells menacingall. A noted warrior this; who, distracted at the death of five sons slainin recent games, wandered from valley to valley, wrestling andfighting. With wild cries of "The Despairer! The Despairer!" the appalledmultitude fled; leaving the two kings frozen on their throne, quakingand quailing, their teeth rattling like dice. The Despairer strode toward them; when, recovering their senses, theyran; for a time pursued through the woods by the phantom. CHAPTER XXXVIITaji Still Hunted, And Beckoned Previous to the kings' flight, we had plunged into the neighboringwoods; and from thence emerging, entered brakes of cane, sproutingfrom morasses. Soon we heard a whirring, as if three startledpartridges had taken wing; it proved three feathered arrows, fromthree unseen hands. Gracing us, two buried in the ground, but from Taji's arm, the thirddrew blood. On all sides round we turned; but none were seen. "Still the avengersfollow, " said Babbalanja. "Lo! the damsels three!" cried Yoomy. "Look where they come!" We joined them by the sumach-wood's red skirts; and there, they wavedtheir cherry stalks, and heavy bloated cactus leaves, their crimsonblossoms armed with nettles; and before us flung shining, yellow, tiger-flowers spotted red. "Blood!" cried Yoomy, starting, "and leopards on your track!" And now the syrens blew through long reeds, tasseled with theirpanicles, and waving verdant scarfs of vines, came dancing toward us, proffering clustering grapes. "For all now yours, Taji; and all that yet may come, " cried Yoomy, "fly to me! I will dance away your gloom, and drown it in inebriation. " "Away! woe is its own wine. What may be mine, that will I endure, inits own essence to the quick. Let me feel the poniard if it stabs. " They vanished in the wood; and hurrying on, we soon gained sun-light, and the open glade. CHAPTER XXXVIIIThey Embark From Diranda Arrived at the Sign of the Skulls, we found the illustrious lordseigniors at rest from their flight, and once more, quaffing theirclaret, all thoughts of the specter departed. Instead of rattlingtheir own ivory iii the heads on their shoulders, they were rattlingtheir dice in the skulls in their hands. And still "Heads, " was thecry, and "Heads, " was the throw. That evening they made known to my lord Media that an interval of twodays must elapse ere the games were renewed, in order to reward thevictors, bury their dead, and provide for the execution of anIslander, who under the pro-vocation of a blow, had killed a stranger. As this suspension of the festivities had been wholly unforeseen, ourhosts were induced to withdraw the embargo laid upon our canoes. Nevertheless, they pressed us to remain; saying, that what was to comewould far exceed in interest, what had already taken place. The gamesin prospect being of a naval description, embracing certain hand-to-hand contests in the water between shoals of web-footed warriors. However, we decided to embark on the morrow. It was in the cool of the early morning, at that hour when a man'sface can be known, that we set sail from Diranda; and in the ghostlytwilight, our thoughts reverted to the phantom that so suddenly hadcleared the plain. With interest we hearkened to the recitals of Mohi;who discoursing of the sad end of many brave chieftains in Mardi, madeallusion to the youthful Adondo, one of the most famous of the chiefsof the chronicles. In a canoe-fight, after performing prodigies ofvalor; he was wounded in the head, and sunk to the bottom of the lagoon. "There is a noble monody upon the death of Adondo, " said Yoomy. "ShallI sing it, my lord? It. Is very beautiful; nor could I ever repeat itwithout a tear. " "We will dispense with your tears, minstrel, " said Media, "but singit, if you will. " And Yoomy sang:-- Departed the pride and the glory of Mardi: The vaunt of her isles sleeps deep in the sea, That rolls o'er his corpse with a hush. His warriors bend over their spears, His sisters gaze upward and mourn. Weep, weep, for Adondo, is dead! The sun has gone down in a shower; Buried in clouds in the face of the moon; Tears stand in the eyes of the starry skies, And stand in the eyes of the flowers; And streams of tears are the trickling brooks, Coursing adown the mountains. -- Departed the pride, and the glory of Mardi: The vaunt of her isles sleeps deep in the sea. Fast falls the small rain on its bosom that sobs. -- Not showers of rain, but the tears of Oro. "A dismal time it must have been, " yawned Media, "not a dry brook thenin Mardi, not a lake that was not moist. Lachrymose rivulets, andinconsolable lagoons! Call you this poetry, minstrel?" "Mohi has something like a tear in his eye, " said Yoomy. "False!" cried Mohi, brushing it aside. "Who composed that monody?" said Babbalanja. "I have often heard itbefore. " "None know, Babbalanja but the poet must be still singing to himself;his songs bursting through the turf in the flowers over his grave. " "But gentle Yoomy, Adondo is a legendary hero, indefinitely datingback. May not his monody, then, be a spontaneous melody, that has beenwith us since Mardi began? What bard composed the soft verses that ourpalm boughs sing at even? Nay, Yoomy, that monody was not written byman. " "Ah! Would that I had been the poet, Babbalanja; for then had I beenfamous indeed; those lines are chanted through all the isles, byprince and peasant. Yes, Adondo's monody will pervade the ages, likethe low under-tone you hear, when many singers do sing. " "My lord, my lord, " cried Babbalanja, "but this were to be trulyimmortal;--to be perpetuated in our works, and not in our names. Letme, oh Oro! be anonymously known!" CHAPTER XXXIXWherein Babbalanja Discourses Of Himself An interval of silence was at last broken by Babbalanja. Pointing to the sun, just gaining the horizon, he exclaimed, "As oldBardianna says--shut your eyes, and believe. " "And what may Bardianna have to do with yonder orb?" said Media. This much, my lord, the astronomers maintain that Mardi moves roundthe sun; which I, who never formally investigated the matter formyself, can by no means credit; unless, plainly seeing one thing, Iblindly believe another. Yet even thus blindly does all Mardisubscribe to an astronomical system, which not one in fifty thousandcan astronomically prove. And not many centuries back, my lord, allMardi did equally subscribe to an astronomical system, precisely thereverse of that which they now believe. But the mass of Mardians havenot as much reason to believe the first system, as the exploded one;for all who have eyes must assuredly see, that the sun seems to move, and that Mardi seems a fixture, eternally _here_. But doubtless thereare theories which may be true, though the face of things belie them. Hence, in such cases, to the ignorant, disbelief would seem morenatural than faith; though they too often reject the testimony oftheir own senses, for what to them, is a mere hypothesis. And thus, mylord, is it, that the masts of Mardians do not believe because theyknow, but because they know not. And they are as ready to receive onething as another, if it comes from a canonical source. My lord, Mardiis as an ostrich, which will swallow augh you offer, even a bar ofiron, if placed endwise. And though the iron be indigestible, yet itserves to fill: in feeding, the end proposed. For Mardi must havesomething to exercise its digestion, though that something be foreverindigestible. And as fishermen for sport, throw two lumps of bait, united by a cord, to albatrosses floating on the sea; which aregreedily attempted to be swallowed, one lump by this fowl, the otherby that; but forever are kept reciprocally going up and down in them, by means of the cord; even so, my lord, do I sometimes fancy, that ourtheorists divert them-selves with the greediness of Mardians tobelieve. " "Ha, ha, " cried Media, "methinks this must be Azzageddi who speaks. " "No, my lord; not long since, Azzageddi received a furlough to go homeand warm himself for a while. But this leaves me not alone. " "How?" "My lord, --for the present putting Azzageddi entirely aside, --though Ihave now been upon terms of close companionship with myself for nighfive hundred moons, I have not yet been able to decide who or what Iam. To you, perhaps, I seem Babbalanja; but to myself, I seem notmyself. All I am sure of, is a sort of prickly sensation all over me, which they call life; and, occasionally, a headache or a queer conceitadmonishes me, that there is something astir in my attic. But how knowI, that these sensations are identical with myself? For aught I know, I may be somebody else. At any rate, I keep an eye on myself, as Iwould on a stranger. There is something going on in me, that isindependent of me. Many a time, have I willed to do one thing, andanother has been done. I will not say by myself, for I was notconsulted about it; it was done instinctively. My most virtuousthoughts are not born of my musings, but spring up in me, like brightfancies to the poet; unsought, spontaneous. Whence they come I knownot. I am a blind man pushed from behind; in vain, I turn about to seewhat propels me. As vanity, I regard the praises of my friends; forwhat they commend pertains not to me, Babbalanja; but to this unknownsomething that forces me to it. But why am I, a middle aged Mardian, less prone to excesses than when a youth? The same inducements andallurements are around me. But no; my more ardent passions are burnedout; those which are strongest when we are least able to resist them. Thus, then, my lord, it is not so much outer temptations that prevailover us mortals; but inward instincts. " "A very curious speculation, " said Media. But Babbalanja, have youmortals no moral sense, as they call it?" "We have. But the thing you speak of is but an after-birth; we eat anddrink many months before we are conscious of thoughts. And though someadults would seem to refer all their actions to this moral sense, yet, in reality, it is not so; for, dominant in them, their moral sensebridles their instinctive passions; wherefore, they do not governthemselves, but are governed by their very natures. Thus, some men inyouth are constitutionally as staid as I am now. But shall wepronounce them pious and worthy youths for this? Does he abstain, whois not incited? And on the other hand, if the instinctive passionsthrough life naturally have the supremacy over the moral sense, as inextreme cases we see it developed in irreclaimable malefactors, --shallwe pronounce such, criminal and detestable wretches? My lord, it iseasier for some men to be saints, than for others not to be sinners. " "That will do, Babbalanja; you are on the verge, take not the leap! Goback whence you set out, and tell us of that other, and still moremysterious Azzageddi; him whom you hinted to have palmed himself offon you for you yourself. " "Well, then, my lord, --Azzageddi still set aside, --upon that self-sameinscrutable stranger, I charge all those past actions of mine, whichin the retrospect appear to me such eminent folly, that I amconfident, it was not I, Babbalanja, now speaking, that committedthem. Nevertheless, my lord, this very day I may do some act, which ata future period may seem equally senseless; for in one lifetime welive a hundred lives. By the incomprehensible stranger in me, I say, this body of mine has been rented out scores of times, though alwaysone dark chamber in me is retained by the old mystery. " "Will you never come to the mark, Babbalanja? Tell me something directof the stranger. Who, what is he? Introduce him. " "My lord, I can not. He is locked up in me. In a mask, he dodges me. He prowls about in me, hither and thither; he peers, and I stare. Thisis he who talks in my sleep, revealing my secrets; and takes me tounheard of realms, beyond the skies of Mardi. So present is he always, that I seem not so much to live of myself, as to be a mereapprehension of the unaccountable being that is in me. Yet all thetime, this being is I, myself. " "Babbalanja, " said Media, "you have fairly turned yourself inside out. " "Yes, my lord, " said Mohi, "and he has so unsettled me, that I beginto think all Mardi a square circle. " "How is that, Babbalanja, " said Media, "is a circle square?" "No, my lord, but ever since Mardi began, we Mardians have beenessaying our best to square it. " "Cleverly retorted. Now, Babbalanja, do you not imagine, that you maydo harm by disseminating these sophisms of yours; which like yourdevil theory, would seem to relieve all Mardi from moralaccountability?" "My lord, at bottom, men wear no bonds that other men can strike off;and have no immunities, of which other men can deprive them. Tell agood man that he is free to commit murder, --will he murder? Tell amurderer that at the peril of his soul he indulges in murderousthoughts, --will that make him a saint?" "Again on the verge, Babbalanja? Take not the leap, I say. " "I can leap no more, my lord. Already I am down, down, down. " "Philosopher, " said Media, "what with Azzageddi, and the mysteriousindweller you darkly hint of, I marvel not that you are puzzled todecide upon your identity. But when do you seem most yourself?" "When I sleep, and dream not, my lord. " "Indeed?" "Why then, a fool's cap might be put on you, and you would not know it. " "The very turban he ought to wear, " muttered Mohi. "Yet, my lord, I live while consciousness is not mine, while to allappearances I am a clod. And may not this same state of being, thoughbut alternate with me, be continually that of many dumb, passiveobjects we so carelessly regard? Trust me, there are more things alivethan those that crawl, or fly, or swim. Think you, my lord, there isno sensation in being a tree? feeling the sap in one's boughs, thebreeze in one's foliage? think you it is nothing to be a world? one ofa herd, bison-like, wending its way across boundless meadows of ether?In the sight of a fowl, that sees not our souls, what are our owntokens of animation? That we move, make a noise, have organs, pulses, and are compounded of fluids and solids. And all these are in thisMardi as a unit. Daily the slow, majestic throbbings of its heart areperceptible on the surface in the tides of the la-goon. Its rivers areits veins; when agonized, earthquakes are its throes; it shouts in thethunder, and weeps in the shower; and as the body of a bison iscovered with hair, so Mardi is covered with grasses and vegetation, among which, we parasitical things do but crawl, vexing and tormentingthe patient creature to which we cling. Nor yet, hath it recoveredfrom the pain of the first foundation that was laid. Mardi is alive toits axis. When you pour water, does it not gurgle? When you strike apearl shell, does it not ring? Think you there is no sensation inbeing a rock?--To exist, is to be; to be, is to be something: to besomething, is--" "Go on, " said Media. "And what is it, to be something?" said Yoomy artlessly. "Bethinkyourself of what went before, " said Media. "Lose not the thread, " said Mohi. "It has snapped, " said Babbalanja. "I breathe again, " said Mohi. "But what a stepping-off place you came to then, philosopher, " saidMedia. "By the way, is it not old Bardianna who says, that no Mardianshould undertake to walk, without keeping one foot foremost?" "To return to the vagueness of the notion I have of myself, " saidBabbalanja. "An appropriate theme, " said Media, "proceed. " "My lord, " murmured Mohi, "Is not this philosopher like a centipede?Cut off his head, and still he crawls. " "There are times when I fancy myself a lunatic, " resumed Babbalanja. "Ah, now he's beginning to talk sense, " whispered Mohi. "Surely you forget, Babbalanja, " said Media. "How many more theorieshave you? First, you are possessed by a devil; then rent yourself outto the indweller; and now turn yourself into a mad-house. You areinconsistent. " "And for that very reason, my lord, not inconsistent; for the sum ofmy inconsistencies makes up my consistency. And to be consistent toone's self, is often to be inconsistent to Mardi. Common consistencyimplies unchangeableness; but much of the wisdom here below lives in astate of transition. " "Ah!" murmured Mold, "my head goes round again. " "Azzageddi aside, then, my lord, and also, for the nonce, themysterious indweller, I come now to treat of myself as a lunatic. Butthis last conceit is not so much based upon the madness of particularactions, as upon the whole drift of my ordinary and hourly ones;those, in which I most resemble all other Mardians. It seems likegoing through with some nonsensical whim-whams, destitute of fixedpurpose. For though many of my actions seem to have objects, and allof them somehow run into each other; yet, where is the grand result?To what final purpose, do I walk about, eat, think, dream? To whatgreat end, does Mohi there, now stroke his beard?" "But I was doing it unconsciously, " said Mohi, dropping his hand, andlifting his head. "Just what I would be at, old man. 'What we do, we do blindly, ' saysold Bardianna. Many things we do, we do without knowing, --as with youand your beard, Mohi. And many others we know not, in their truebearing at least, till they are past. Are not half our lives spent inreproaches for foregone actions, of the true nature and consequencesof which, we were wholly ignorant at the time? Says old Bardianna, 'Did I not so often feel an appetite for my yams, I should think everything a dream;'--so puzzling to him, seemed the things of this Mardi. But Alla-Malolla goes further. Says he, 'Let us club together, fellow-riddles:--Kings, clowns, and intermediates. We are bundles of comicalsensations; we bejuggle ourselves into strange phantasies: we are air, wind, breath, bubbles; our being is told in a tick. '" "Now, then, Babbalanja, " said Media, "what have you come to in allthis rhapsody? You everlastingly travel in a circle. " "And so does the sun in heaven, my lord; like me, it goes round, andgives light as it goes. Old Bardianna, too, revolved. He says sohimself. In his roundabout chapter on Cycles and Epicycles, with Noteson the Ecliptic, he thus discourseth:--'All things revolve upon somecenter, to them, fixed; for the centripetal is ever too much for thecentrifugal. Wherefore, it is a perpetual cycling with us, withoutprogression; and we fly round, whether we will or no. To stop, were tosink into space. So, over and over we go, and round and round; double-shuffle, on our axis, and round the sun. ' In an another place, hesays:--'There is neither apogee nor perigee, north nor south, rightnor left; what to-night is our zenith, to-morrow is our nadir; standas we will, we stand on our heads; essay to spring into the air, anddown we come; here we stick; our very bones make glue. '" "Enough, enough, Babbalanja, " cried Media. "You are a very wiseMardian; but the wisest Mardians make the most consummate fools. " "So they do, my lord; but I was interrupted. I was about to say, thatthere is no place but the universe; no limit but the limitless; nobottom but the bottomless. " CHAPTER XLOf The Sorcerers In The Isle Of Minda "Tiffin! tiffin!" cried Media; "time for tiffin! Up, comrades! andwhile the mat is being spread, walk we to the bow, and inhale thebreeze for an appetite. Hark ye, Vee-Vee! forget not that calabashwith the sea-blue seal, and a round ring for a brand. Rare old stuff, that, Mohi; older than you: the circumnavigator, I call it. My sirehad a canoe launched for the express purpose of carrying it thriceround Mardi for a flavor. It was many moons on the voyage; themariners never sailed faster than three knots. Ten would spoil thebest wine ever floated. " Tiffin over, and the blue-sealed calabash all but hid in the greatcloud raised by our pipes, Media proposed to board it in the smoke. So, goblet in hand, we all gallantly charged, and came off victoriousfrom the fray. Then seated again, and serenely puffing in a circle, thecircumnavigator meanwhile pleasantly going the rounds, Media calledupon Mohi for something entertaining. Now, of all the old gossips in Mardi, surely our delightful oldDiodorus was furnished with the greatest possible variety ofhistories, chronicles, anecdotes, memoirs, legends, traditions, andbiographies. There was no end to the library he carried. In himself, he was the whole history of Mardi, amplified, not abridged, in onevolume. In obedience, then, to King Media's command, Mohi regaled the companywith a narrative, in substance as follows:-- In a certain quarter of the Archipelago was an island called Minda;and in Minda were many sorcerers, employed in the social differencesand animosities of the people of that unfortunate land. If a Mindariandeemed himself aggrieved or insulted by a countryman, he forthwithrepaired to one of these sorcerers; who, for an adequateconsideration, set to work with his spells, keeping himself in thedark, and directing them against the obnoxious individual. And fullsoon, by certain peculiar sensations, this individual, discoveringwhat was going on, would straightway hie to his own professor of thesable art, who, being well feed, in due time brought about certaincounter-charms, so that in the end it sometimes fell out that neitherparty was gainer or loser, save by the sum of his fees. But the worst of it was, that in some cases all knowledge of thesespells were at the outset hidden from the victim; who, hearing toolate of the mischief brewing, almost always fell a prey to his foe;which calamity was held the height of the art. But as the great bodyof sorcerers were about matched in point of skill, it followed thatthe parties employing them were so likewise. Hence arose thoseinterminable contests, in which many moons were spent, both partiestoiling after their common destruction. Indeed, to say nothing of the obstinacy evinced by their employers, itwas marvelous, the pertinacity of the sorcerers themselves. To thevery last tooth in their employer's pouches, they would stick to theirspells; never giving over till he was financially or physicallydefunct. But much as they were vilified, no people in Minda were half sodisinterested as they. Certain indispensable conditions secured, someof them were as ready to undertake the perdition of one man asanother; good, bad, or indifferent, it made little matter. What wonder, then, that such abominable mercenaries should cause amighty deal of mischief in Minda; privately going about, incitingpeaceable folks to enmities with their neighbors; and with marvelousalacrity, proposing themselves as the very sorcerers to rid them ofthe annoyances suggested as existing. Indeed, it even happened that a sorcerer would be secretly retained towork spells upon a victim, who, from his bodily sensations, suspectingsomething wrong, but knowing not what, would repair to that self-samesorcerer, engaging him to counteract any mischief that might bebrewing. And this worthy would at once undertake the business; when, having both parties in his hands, he kept them forever in suspense;meanwhile seeing to it well, that they failed not in handsomelyremunerating him for his pains. At one time, there was a prodigious excitement about these sorcerers, growing out of some alarming revelations concerning their practices. In several villages of Minda, they were sought to be put down. Butfruitless the attempt; it was soon discovered that already theirspells were so spread abroad, and they themselves so mixed up with theeveryday affairs of the isle, that it was better to let their vocationalone, than, by endeavoring to suppress it, breed additional troubles. Ah! they were a knowing and a cunning set, those sorcerers; very hardto overcome, cajole, or circumvent. But in the name of the Magi, what were these spells of theirs, sopotent and occult? On all hands it was agreed, that they derived theirgreatest virtue from the fumes of certain compounds, whoseingredients--horrible to tell--were mostly obtained from the humanheart; and that by variously mixing these ingredients, they adaptedtheir multifarious enchantments. They were a vain and arrogant race. Upon the strength of their dealingin the dark, they affected even more mystery than belonged to them;when interrogated concerning their science, would confound theinquirer by answers couched in an extraordinary jargon, employingwords almost as long as anacondas. But all this greatly prevailed withthe common people. Nor was it one of the least remarkable things, that oftentimes twosorcerers, contrarily employed upon a Mindarian, --one to attack, theother to defend, --would nevertheless be upon the most friendly termswith each other; which curious circumstance never begat the slightestsuspicions in the mind of the victim. Another phenomenon: If from any cause, two sorcerers fell out, theyseldom exercised their spells upon each other; ascribable to this, perhaps, --that both being versed in the art, neither could hope to getthe advantage. But for all the opprobrium cast upon these sorcerers, part of whichthey deserved, the evils imputed to them were mainly, thoughindirectly, ascribable to the very persons who abused them; nay, tothe very persons who employed them; the latter being by far theloudest in their vilifyings; for which, indeed, they had excellentreason. Nor was it to be denied, that in certain respects, the sorcerers wereproductive of considerable good. The nature of their pursuits leadingthem deep into the arcana of mind, they often lighted upon importantdiscoveries; along with much that was cumbersome, accumulated valuableexamples concerning the inner working of the hearts of the Mindarians;and often waxed eloquent in elucidating the mysteries of iniquity. Yet was all this their lore graven upon so uncouth, outlandish, andantiquated tablets, that it was all but lost to the mass of theircountrymen; and some old sachem of a wise man is quoted as havingsaid, that their treasures were locked up after such a fashion, thatfor old iron, the key was worth more than the chest and its contents. CHAPTER XLIChiefly Of Sing Bello "Now Taji, " said Media, "with old Bello of the Hump whose island ofDominora is before us, I am at variance. " "Ah! How so?" "A dull recital, but you shall have it. " And forthwith his Highness began. This princely quarrel originated, it seems, in a slight jostlingconcerning the proprietorship of a barren islet in a very remotequarter of the lagoon. At the outset the matter might have been easilyadjusted, had the parties but exchanged a few amicable words. But eachdisdaining to visit the other, to discuss so trivial an affair, thebusiness of negotiating an understanding was committed to certainplenipos, men with lengthy tongues, who scorned to utter a word shortof a polysyllable. Now, the more these worthies penetrated into the difficulty, the widerbecame the breach; till what was at first a mere gap, became a yawninggulf. But that which had perhaps tended more than any thing else to deepenthe variance of the kings, was hump-backed Bello's dispatching to Odo, as his thirtieth plenipo, a diminutive little negotiator, who all byhimself, in a solitary canoe, sailed over to have audience of Media;into whose presence he was immediately ushered. Darting one glance at him, the king turned to his chieftains, andsaid:--"By much straining of your eyes, my lords, can you perceivethis insignificant manikin? What! are there no tall men in Dominora, that King Bello must needs send this dwarf hither?" And charging his attendents to feed the embassador extraordinary withthe soft pap of the cocoanut, and provide nurses during his stay, themonarch retired from the arbor of audience. "As I am a man, " shouted the despised plenipo, raising himself on histoes, "my royal master will resent this affront!--A dwarf, forsooth!--Thank Oro, I am no long-drawn giant! There is as much stuff in me, asin others; what is spread out in their clumsy carcasses, in me iscondensed. I am much in little! And that much, thou shalt know fullsoon, disdainful King of Odo!" "Speak not against our lord the king, " cried the attendants. "And speak not ye to me, ye headless spear poles!" And so saying, under sufferance of being small, the plenipo waspermitted to depart unmolested; for all his bravadoes, fobbing hiscredentials and affronts. Apprized of his servant's ignoble reception, the choleric Bello burstforth in a storm of passion; issuing orders for, one thousand conchshells to be blown, and his warriors to assemble by land and by sea. But bethinking him of the hostilities that might ensue, the sagaciousMedia hit upon an honorable expedient to ward off an event for whichhe was then unprepared. With all haste he dispatched to the hump-backed king a little dwarf of his own; who voyaging over to Dominorain a canoe, sorry and solitary as that of Bello's plenipo, in likemanner, received the same insults. The effect whereof, was, to strikea balance of affronts; upon the principle, that a blow given, healsone received. Nevertheless, these proceedings but amounted to a postponement ofhostilities; for soon after, nothing prevented the two kings fromplunging into war, but the following judicious considerations. First:Media was almost afraid of being beaten. Second: Bello was almostafraid to conquer. Media, because he was inferior in men and arms;Bello, because, his aggrandizement was already a subject of warlikecomment among the neighboring kings. Indeed, did the old chronicler Braid-Beard speak truth, there weresome tribes in Mardi, that accounted this king of Dominora a testy, quarrelsome, rapacious old monarch; the indefatigable breeder ofcontentions and wars; the elder brother of this household of nations, perpetually essaying to lord it over the juveniles; and though hispatrimonial dominions were situated to the north of the lagoon, notthe slightest misunderstanding took place between the rulers of themost distant islands, than this doughty old cavalier on a throne, forthwith thrust his insolent spear into the matter, though it in nowise concerned him, and fell to irritating all parties by hisgratuitous interference. Especially was he officious in the concerns of Porpheero, aneighboring island, very large and famous, whose numerous broadvalleys were divided among many rival kings:--the king of Franko, asmall-framed, poodle-haired, fine, fiery gallant; finical in histatooing; much given to the dance and glory;--the king of Ibeereea, atall and stately cavalier, proud, generous, punctilious, temperate inwine; one hand forever on his javelin, the other, in superstitioushomage, lifted to his gods; his limbs all over marks of stakes andcrosses;--the king of Luzianna; a slender, dark-browed thief; at timeswrapped in a moody robe, beneath which he fumbled something, as if itwere a dagger; but otherwise a sprightly troubadour, given toserenades and moonlight;---the many chiefs of sunny Latianna; minstrelmonarchs, full of song and sentiment; fiercer in love than war;glorious bards of freedom; but rendering tribute while they sang;--thepriest-king of Vatikanna; his chest marked over with antiquetatooings; his crown, a cowl; his rusted scepter swaying over fallingtowers, and crumbling mounds; full of the superstitious past; askance, eyeing the suspicious time to come;--the king of Hapzaboro; portly, pleasant; a lover of wild boar's meat; a frequent quaffer from thecan; in his better moods, much fancying solid comfort;--the eight-and-thirty banded kings, chieftains, seigniors, and oligarchies of thebroad hill and dale of Tutoni; clubbing together their domains, thatnone might wrest his neighbor's; an earnest race; deep thinkers, deeper drinkers; long pipes, long heads; their wise ones given tomystic cogitations, and consultations with the devil;--the twin kingsof Zandinavia; hardy, frugal mountaineers; upright of spine and heart;clad in skins of bears;--the king of Jutlanda; much like theirHighnesses of Zandinavia; a seal-skin cap his crown; a fearless sailorof his frigid seas;--the king of Muzkovi; a shaggy, icicled White-bearof a despot in the north; said to reign over millions of acres ofglaciers; had vast provinces of snow-drifts, and many flourishingcolonies among the floating icebergs. Absolute in his rule asPredestination in metaphysics, did he command all his people to giveup the ghost, it would be held treason to die last. Very precise andfoppish in his imperial tastes was this monarch. Disgusted with thewant of uniformity in the stature of his subjects, he was said tonourish thoughts of killing off all those below his prescribedstandard--six feet, long measure. Immortal souls were of no account inhis fatal wars; since, in some of his serf-breeding estates, they weredaily manufactured to order. Now, to all the above-mentioned monarchs, old Bello would frequentlydispatch heralds; announcing, for example, his unalterable resolution, to espouse the cause of this king, against that; at the very time, perhaps, that their Serene Superfluities, instead of crossing spears, were touching flagons. And upon these occasions, the kings would oftensend back word to old Bello, that instead of troubling himself withtheir concerns, he might far better attend to his own; which, theyhinted, were in a sad way, and much needed reform. The royal old warrior's pretext for these and all similar proceedings, was the proper adjustment in Porpheero, of what he facetiously styledthe "Equipoise of Calabashes;" which he stoutly swore was essential tothe security of the various tribes in that country. "But who put the balance into thy hands, King Bello?" cried theindignant nations. "Oro!" shouted the hump-backed king, shaking his javelin. Superadded to the paternal interest which Bello betrayed in theconcerns of the kings of Porpheero, according to our chronicler, healso manifested no less interest in those of the remotest islands. Indeed, where he found a rich country, inhabited by a people, deemedby him barbarous and incapable of wise legislation, he sometimesrelieved them from their political anxieties, by assuming thedictatorship over them. And if incensed at his conduct, they flew totheir spears, they were accounted rebels, and treated accordingly. Butas old Mohi very truly observed, --herein, Bello was not alone; forthroughout Mardi, all strong nations, as well as all strong men, lovedto govern the weak. And those who most taunted King Bello for hispolitical rapacity, were open to the very same charge. So withVivenza, a distant island, at times very loud in denunciations ofBello, as a great national brigand. Not yet wholly extinct in Vivenza, were its aboriginal people, a race of wild Nimrods and hunters, whoyear by year were driven further and further into remoteness, till asone of their sad warriors said, after continual removes along the log, his race was on the point of being remorselessly pushed off the end. Now, Bello was a great geographer, and land surveyor, and gauger ofthe seas. Terraqueous Mardi, he was continually exploring in quest ofstrange empires. Much he loved to take the altitude of loftymountains, the depth of deep rivers, the breadth of broad isles. Uponthe highest pinnacles of commanding capes and promontories, he lovedto hoist his flag. He circled Mardi with his watch-towers: and thedistant voyager passing wild rocks in the remotest waters, wasstartled by hearing the tattoo, or the reveille, beating from hump-backed Bello's omnipresent drum. Among Antartic glaciers, his shrillbugle calls mingled with the scream of the gulls; and so impressedseemed universal nature with the sense of his dominion, that the veryclouds in heaven never sailed over Dominora without rendering thetribute of a shower; whence the air of Dominora was more moist thanthat of any other clime. In all his grand undertakings, King Bello was marvelously assisted byhis numerous fleets of war-canoes; his navy being the largest inMardi. Hence his logicians swore that the entire Lagoon was his; andthat all prowling whales, prowling keels, and prowling sharks wereinvaders. And with this fine conceit to inspire them, his poets-laureat composed some glorious old saltwater odes, enough to make yourvery soul sing to hear them. But though the rest of Mardi much delighted to list to such nobleminstrelsy, they agreed not with Bello's poets in deeming the lagoontheir old monarch's hereditary domain. Once upon a time, the paddlers of the hump-backed king, meeting uponthe broad lagoon certain canoes belonging to the before-mentionedisland of Vivenza; these paddlers seized upon several of theiroccupants; and feeling their pulses, declared them born men ofDominora; and therefore, not free to go whithersoever they would; for, unless they could somehow get themselves born over again, they mustforever remain subject to Bello. Shed your hair; nay, your skin, ifyou will, but shed your allegiance you can not; while you have bones, they are Bello's. So, spite of all expostulations and attempts toprove alibis, these luckless paddlers were dragged into the canoes ofDominora, and commanded to paddle home their captors. Whereof hearing, the men of Vivenza were thrown into a great ferment;and after a mighty pow-wow over their council fire, fitting outseveral double-keeled canoes, they sallied out to sea, in quest ofthose, whom they styled the wholesale corsairs of Dominora. But lucky perhaps it was, that at this juncture, in all parts ofMardi, the fleets of the hump-backed king, were fighting, gunwale andgunwale, alongside of numerous foes; else there had borne down uponthe canoes of the men of Vivenza so tremendous an armada, that thevery swell under its thousand prows might have flooded their scatteredproas forever out of sight. As it was, Bello dispatched a few of his smaller craft to seek out, and incidentally run down the enemy; and without returning home, straightway proceed upon more important enterprises. But it so chanced, that Bello's crafts, one by one meeting the foe, inmost cases found the canoes of Vivenza much larger than their own; andmanned by more men, with hearts bold as theirs; whence, in the ship-duels that ensued, they were worsted; and the canoes of Vivenza, locking their yard-arms into those of the vanquished, very courteouslygallanted them into their coral harbors. Solely imputing these victories to their superior intrepidity andskill, the people of Vivenza were exceedingly boisterous in theirtriumph; raising such obstreperous peans, that they gave themselveshoarse throats; insomuch, that according to Mohi, some of the presentgeneration are fain to speak through their noses. CHAPTER XLIIDominora And Vivenza The three canoes still gliding on, some further particulars werenarrated concerning Dominora; and incidentally, of other isles. It seems that his love of wide dominion sometimes led the otherwisesagacious Bello into the most extravagant actions. If the chanceaccumulation of soil and drift-wood about any detached shelf of coralin the lagoon held forth the remotest possibility of the eventualexistence of an islet there, with all haste he dispatched canoes tothe spot, to take prospective possession of the as yet nearlysubmarine territory; and if possible, eject the zoophytes. During an unusually low tide, here and there baring the outer reef ofthe Archipelago, Bello caused his royal spear to be planted upon everyplace thus exposed, in token of his supreme claim thereto. Another anecdote was this: that to Dominora there came a rumor, thatin a distant island dwelt a man with an uncommonly large nose; of mostportentous dimensions, indeed; by the soothsayers supposed toforeshadow some dreadful calamity. But disregarding thesesuperstitious conceits, Bello forthwith dispatched an agent, todiscover whether this huge promontory of a nose was geographicallyavailable; if so, to secure the same, by bringing the proprietor back. Now, by sapient old Mohi, it was esteemed a very happy thing for Mardiat large, that the subjects whom Bello sent to populate his foreignacquisitions, were but too apt to throw off their vassalage, so soonas they deemed themselves able to cope with him. Indeed, a fine country in the western part of Mardi, in this verymanner, became a sovereign--nay, a republican state. It was the nationto which Mohi had previously alluded--Vivenza. But in the flush andpride of having recently attained their national majority, the men ofVivenza were perhaps too much inclined to carry a vauntful crest. Andbecause intrenched in their fastnesses, after much protractedfighting, they had eventually succeeded in repelling the warriorsdispatched by Bello to crush their insurrection, they were unanimousin the opinion, that the hump-backed king had never before been sosignally chastised. Whereas, they had not so much vanquished Bello, asdefended their shores; even as a young lion will protect its denagainst legions of unicorns, though, away from home, he might be tornto pieces. In truth, Braid-Beard declared, that at the time of thiswar, Dominora couched ten long spears for every short javelin Vivenzacould dart; though the javelins were stoutly hurled as the spears. But, superior in men and arms, why, at last, gave over King Bello thehope of reducing those truculent men of Vivenza? One reason was, asMohi said, that many of his fighting men were abundantly occupied inother quarters of Mardi; nor was he long in discovering that fight henever so valiantly, Vivenza--not yet its inhabitants--was whollyunconquerable. Thought Bello, Mountains are sturdy foes; fate hard todam. Yet, the men of Vivenza were no dastards; not to lie, coming fromlion-like loins, they were a lion-loined race. Did not their bardspronounce them a fresh start in the Mardian species; requiring a newworld for their full development? For be it known, that the great landof Kolumbo, no inconsiderable part of which was embraced by Vivenza, was the last island discovered in the Archipelago. In good round truth, and as if an impartialist from Arcturus spoke it, Vivenza was a noble land. Like a young tropic tree she stood, ladendown with greenness, myriad blossoms, and the ripened fruit thick-hanging from one bough. She was promising as the morning. Or Vivenza might be likened to St. John, feeding on locusts and wildhoney, and with prophetic voice, crying to the nations from thewilderness. Or, child-like, standing among the old robed kings andemperors of the Archipelago, Vivenza seemed a young Messiah, to whosediscourse the bearded Rabbis bowed. So seemed Vivenza in its better aspect. Nevertheless, Vivenza was abraggadocio in Mardi; the only brave one ever known. As an army ofspurred and crested roosters, her people chanticleered at theresplendent rising of their sun. For shame, Vivenza! Whence thyundoubted valor? Did ye not bring it with ye from the bold old shoresof Dominora, where there is a fullness of it left? What isle butDominora could have supplied thee with that stiff spine of thine?--That heart of boldest beat? Oh, Vivenza! know that true grandeur istoo big for a boast; and nations, as well as men, may be too clever tobe great. But what more of King Bello? Notwithstanding his territorialacquisitiveness, and aversion to relinquishing stolen nations, he wasyet a glorious old king; rather choleric--a word and a blow--but of aright royal heart. Rail at him as they might, at bottom, all the isleswere proud of him. And almost in spite of his rapacity, upon thewhole, perhaps, they were the better for his deeds. For if sometimeshe did evil with no very virtuous intentions, he had fifty, ways ofaccomplishing good with the best; and a thousand ways of doing goodwithout meaning it. According to an ancient oracle, the hump-backedmonarch was but one of the most conspicuous pieces on a board, wherethe gods played for their own entertainment. But here it must not be omitted, that of late, King Bello had somewhatabated his efforts to extend his dominions. Various causes wereassigned. Some thought it arose from the fact that already he foundhis territories too extensive for one scepter to rule; that his moreremote colonies largely contributed to his tribulations, withoutcorrespondingly contributing to his revenues. Others affirmed that hishump was getting too mighty for him to carry; others still, that thenations were waving too strong for him. With prophetic solemnity, head-shaking sages averred that he was growing older and older hadpassed his grand climacteric; and though it was a hale old age withhim, yet it was not his lusty youth; that though he was daily gettingrounder, and rounder in girth, and more florid of face, that these, howbeit, were rather the symptoms of a morbid obesity, than of ahealthful robustness. These wise ones predicted that very soon poorBello would go off in an apoplexy. But in Vivenza there were certain blusterers, who often thus prated:"The Hump-back's hour is come; at last the old teamster will be goredby the nations he's yoked; his game is done, --let him show his handand throw up his scepter; he cumbers Mardi, --let him be cut down andburned; he stands in the way of his betters, --let him sheer to oneside; he has shut up many eyes, and now himself grows blind; he hathcommitted horrible atrocities during his long career, the old sinner!--now, let him quickly say his prayers and be beheaded. " Howbeit, Bello lived on; enjoying his dinners, and taking his jorumsas of yore. Ah, I have yet a jolly long lease of life, thought he overhis wine; and like unto some obstinate old uncle, he persisted inflourishing, in spite of the prognostications of the nephew nations, which at his demise, perhaps hoped to fall heir to odd parts of hispossessions: Three streaks of fat valleys to one of lean mountains! CHAPTER XLIIIThey Land At Dominora As erewhile recounted, not being on the best terms in Mardi with theKing of Dominora, Media saw fit to draw nigh unto his dominions inhaughty state; he (Media) being upon excellent terms with himself. Oursails were set, our paddles paddling, streamers streaming, and Vee-Veein the shark's mouth, clamorous with his conch. The din was soonheard; and sweeping into a fine broad bay we beheld its marginseemingly pebbled in the distance with heads; so populous the land. Winding through a noble valley, we presently came to Bello's palace, couchant and bristling in a grove. The upright canes composing itsfront projected above the eaves in a long row of spear-headsfluttering with scarlet pennons; while below, from the intervals ofthe canes, were slantingly thrust three tiers of decorated lances. Awarlike aspect! The entire structure looking like the broadside of theMacedonian phalanx, advancing to the charge, helmeted with a roof. "Ah, Bello, " said Media, "thou dwellest among thy quills like theporcupine. " "I feel a prickly heat coming over me, " cried Mohi, "my lord Media, let us enter. " "Ay, " said Babbalanja, "safer the center of peril, than thecircumference. " Passing under an arch, formed by two pikes crossed, we found ourselvestargets in prospective, for certain flingers of javelins, with poisedweapons, occupying the angles of the palace. Fronting us, stood a portly old warrior, spear in hand, hump on back, and fire in eye. "Is it war?" he cried, pointing his pike, "or peace?" reversing it. "Peace, " said Media. Whereupon advancing, King Bello courteously welcomed us. He was an arsenal to behold: Upon his head the hereditary crown ofDominora, --a helmet of the sea-porcupine's hide, bristling all overwith spikes, in front displaying a river-horse's horn, leveled to thecharge; thrust through his ears were barbed arrows; and from his dyedshark-skin girdle, depended a kilt of strung javelins. The broad chest of Bello was the chart of Mardi. Tattooed in sea-bluewere all the groups and clusters of the Archipelago; and every time hebreathed, rose and fell the isles, as by a tide: Dominora full uponhis heart. His sturdy thighs were his triumphal arch; whereon in numerousmedallions, crests, and shields, were blazoned all his victories bysea and land. His strong right arm was Dominora's scroll of Fame, where all herheroes saw their names recorded. --An endless roll! Our chronicler avouched, that on the sole of Bello's dexter foot wasstamped the crest of Franko's king, his hereditary foe. "Thus, thus, "cried Bello, stamping, "thus I hourly crush him. " In stature, Bello was a mountaineer; but, as over some tall towerimpends the hill-side cliff, so Bello's Athos hump hung over him. Could it be, as many of his nobles held, that the old monarch's humpwas his sensorium and source of strength; full of nerves, muscles, ganglions and tendons? Yet, year by year it grew, ringed like the boleof his palms. The toils of war increased it. But another skirmish withthe isles, said the wiseacres of Porpheero, and Bello's mount willcrush him. Against which calamity to guard, his medicos and Sangredos sought thehump's reduction. But down it would not come. Then by divers mysticrites, his magi tried. Making a deep pit, many teeth they droppedtherein. But they could not fill it. Hence, they called it the SinkingPit, for bottom it had none. Nevertheless, the magi said, when thispit is filled, Bello's hump you'll see no more. "Then, hurrah for thehump!" cried the nobles, "for he will never hurl it off. Long life tothe hump! By the hump we will rally and die! Cheer up, King Bello!Stand up, old king!" But these were they, who when their sovereign went abroad, with thatAthos on his back, followed idly in its shade; while Bello leanedheavily upon his people, staggering as they went. Ay, sorely did Bello's goodly stature lean; but though many swore hesoon must fall; nevertheless, like Pisa's Leaning Tower, he may longlean over, yet never nod. Visiting Dominora in a friendly way, in good time, we found King Bellovery affable; in hospitality, almost exceeding portly Borabolla:October-plenty reigned throughout his palace borders. Our first reception over, a sumptuous repast was served, at which muchlively talk was had. Of Taji, Bello sought to know, whether his solar Majesty had yet madea province of the moon; whether the Astral hosts were of much accountas territories, or mere Motoos, as the little tufts of verdure aredenominated, here and there clinging to Mardi's circle reef; whetherthe people in the sun vilified, him (Bello) as they did in Mardi; andwhat they thought of an event, so ominous to the liberties of theuniverse, as the addition to his navy of three large canoes. Ere long, so fused in social love we grew, that Bello, filling highhis can, and clasping Media's palm, drank everlasting amity with Odo. So over their red cups, the two kings forgot their differences, andconcerning the disputed islet nothing more was ever heard; especially, as it so turned out, that while they Were most hot about it, it hadsuddenly gone out of sight, being of volcanic origin. CHAPTER XLIVThrough Dominora, They Wander After Yillah At last, withdrawing from the presence of King Bello, we went forth, still intent on our search. Many brave sights we saw. Fair fields; the whole island a garden;green hedges all round; neat lodges, thick as white mice in thelandscape; old oak woods, hale and hearty as ever; old temples buriedin ivy; old shrines of old heroes, deep buried in broad groves of baytrees; old rivers laden down with heavy-freighted canoes; humpedhills, like droves of camels, piled up with harvests; every sign andtoken of a glorious abundance, every sign and token of generations ofrenown. Rare sight! fine sight! none rarer, none finer in Mardi. But roving on through this ravishing region, we passed through a corn-field in full beard, where a haggard old reaper laid down his hook, beseeching charity for the sake of the gods. --"Bread, bread! or I diemid these sheaves!" "Thrash out your grain, and want not. " "Alas, masters, this grain is not mine; I plough, I sow, I reap, Ibind, I stack, --Lord Primo garners. " Rambling on, we came to a hamlet, hidden in a hollow; and beneathweeping willows saw many mournful maidens seated on a bank; besideeach, a wheel that was broken. "Lo, we starve, " they cried, "ourdistaffs are snapped; no more may we weave and spin!" Then forth issued from vaults clamorous crowds of men, hands tied totheir backs. --"Bread! Bread!" they cried. "The magician hath turned usout from our glen, where we labored of yore in the days of the merryGreen Queen. He has pinioned us hip and arm that we starve. Like sheepwe die off with the rot. --Curse on the magician. A curse on hisspell. " Bending our steps toward the glen, roaring down the rocks we descrieda stream from the mountains. But ere those waters gained the sea, vassal tribute they rendered. Conducted through culverts and moats, they turned great wheels, giving life to ten thousand fangs andfingers, whose gripe no power could withstand, yet whose touch wassoft as the velvet paw of a kitten. With brute force, they heaved downgreat weights, then daintily wove and spun; like the trunk of theelephant, which lays lifeless a river-horse, and counts the pulses ofa moth. On all sides, the place seemed alive with its spindles. Roundand round, round and round; throwing off wondrous births at everyrevolving; ceaseless as the cycles that circle in heaven. Loud hummedthe loom, flew the shuttle like lightning, red roared the grim forge, rung anvil and sledge; yet no mortal was seen. "What ho, magician! Come forth from thy cave!" But all deaf were the spindles, as the mutes, that mutely wait on theSultan. "Since we are born, we will live!" so we read on a crimson banner, flouting the crimson clouds, in the van of a riotous red-bonneted mob, racing by us as we came from the glen. Many more followed: black, orblood-stained:--. "Mardi is man's!" "Down with landholders!" "Our turn now!" "Up rights! Down wrongs!" "Bread! Bread!" "Take the tide, ere it turns!" Waving their banners, and flourishing aloft clubs, hammers, andsickles, with fierce yells the crowd ran on toward the palace ofBello. Foremost, and inciting the rest by mad outcries and gestures, were six masks; "This way! This way!" they cried, --"by the wood; bythe dark wood!" Whereupon all darted into the groves; when of asudden, the masks leaped forward, clearing a long covered trench, intowhich fell many of those they led. But on raced the masks; and gainingBello's palace, and raising the alarm, there sallied from thence awoodland of spears, which charged upon the disordered ranks in thegrove. A crash as of icicles against icebergs round Zembla, and downwent the hammers and sickles. The host fled, hotly pursued. Meanwhilebrave heralds from Bello advanced, and with chaplets crowned the sixmasks. --"Welcome, heroes! worthy and valiant!" they cried. "Thus ourlord Bello rewards all those, who to do him a service, for hire betraytheir kith and their kin. " Still pursuing our quest, wide we wandered through all the sun andshade of Dominora; but nowhere was Yillah found. CHAPTER XLVThey Behold King Bello's State Canoe At last, bidding adieu to King Bello; and in the midst of the lowingof oxen, breaking away from his many hospitalities, we departed forthe beach. But ere embarking, we paused to gaze at an object, whichlong fixed our attention. Now, as all bold cavaliers have ever delighted in special chargers, gayly caparisoned, whereon upon grand occasions to sally forth uponthe plains: even so have maritime potentates ever prided themselvesupon some holiday galley, splendidly equipped, wherein to sail overthe sea. When of old, glory-seeking Jason, attended by his promising younglieutenants, Castor and Pollux, embarked on that hardy adventure toColchis, the brave planks of the good ship Argos he trod, its model aswan to behold. And when Trojan Aeneas wandered West, and discovered the pleasant landof Latium, it was in the fine craft Bis Taurus that he sailed: itsstern gloriously emblazoned, its prow a leveled spear. And to the sound of sackbut and psaltery, gliding down the Nile, inthe pleasant shade of its pyramids to welcome mad Mark, Cleopatra wasthroned on the cedar quarter-deck of a glorious gondola, silk andsatin hung; its silver plated oars, musical as flutes. So, too, QueenBess was wont to disport on old Thames. And tough Torf-Egill, the Danish Sea-king, reckoned in his stud, aslender yacht; its masts young Zetland firs; its prow a seal, dog-likeholding a sword-fish blade. He called it the Grayhound, so swift wasits keel; the Sea-hawk, so blood-stained its beak. And groping down his palace stairs, the blind old Doge Dandolo, oftembarked in his gilded barge, like the lord mayor setting forth incivic state from Guildhall in his chariot. But from another sort ofprow leaped Dandolo, when at Constantinople, he foremost sprangashore, and with a right arm ninety years old, planted the standard ofSt. Mark full among the long chin-pennons of the long-bearded Turks. And Kumbo Sama, Emperor of Japan, had a dragon-beaked junk, a floatingJuggernaut, wherein he burnt incense to the sea-gods. And Kannakoko, King of New Zealand; and the first Tahitian Pomaree;and the Pelew potentate, each possessed long state canoes; sea-snakes, all; carved over like Chinese card-cases, and manned with such scoresof warriors, that dipping their paddles in the sea, they made acommotion like shoals of herring. What wonder then, that Bello of the Hump, the old sea-king of Mardi, should sport a brave ocean-chariot? In a broad arbor by the water-side, it was housed like Alp Arsian'swar-horse, or the charger Caligula deified; upon its stern awilderness of sculpture:--shell-work, medal-lions, masques, griffins, gulls, ogres, finned-lions, winged walruses; all manner of sea-cavalry, crusading centaurs, crocodiles, and sharks; and mermen, andmermaids, and Neptune only knows all. And in this craft, Doge-like, yearly did King Bello stand up and wedwith the Lagoon. But the custom originated not in the manner of theDoge's, which was as follows; so, at least, saith Ghibelli, who tellsall about it:-- When, in a stout sea-fight, Ziani defeated Barbarossa's son Otho, sending his feluccas all flying, like frightened water-fowl from alake, then did his Holiness, the Pope, present unto him a ring;saying, "Take this, oh Ziani, and with it, the sea for thy bride; andevery year wed her again. " So the Doge's tradition; thus Bello's:-- Ages ago, Dominora was circled by a reef, which expanding inproportion to the extension of the isle's naval dominion, in due timeembraced the entire lagoon; and this marriage ring zoned all the world. But if the sea was King Bello's bride, an Adriatic Tartar he wedded;who, in her mad gales of passions, often boxed about his canoes, andled his navies a very boisterous life indeed. And hostile prognosticators opined, that ere long she would desert herold lord, and marry again. Already, they held, she had made advancesin the direction of Vivenza. But truly, should she abandon old Bello, he would straight-way afterher with all his fleets; and never rest till his queen was regained. Now, old sea-king! look well to thy barge of state: for, peradventure, the dry-rot may be eating into its keel; and the wood-worms exploringinto its spars. Without heedful tending, any craft will decay; yet, for ever may itsfirst, fine model be preserved, though its prow be renewed everyspring, like the horns of the deer, if, in repairing, plank be put forplank, rib for rib, in exactest similitude. Even so, then, oh Bello!do thou with thy barge. CHAPTER XLVIWherein Babbalanja Bows Thrice The next morning's twilight found us once more afloat; and yielding tothat almost sullen feeling, but too apt to prevail with some mortalsat that hour, all but Media long remained silent. But now, a bright mustering is seen among the myriad white Tartartents in the Orient; like lines of spears defiling upon some uplandplain, the sunbeams thwart the sky. And see! amid the blaze ofbanners, and the pawings of ten thousand thousand golden hoofs, day'smounted Sultan, Xerxes-like, moves on: the Dawn his standard, East andWest his cymbals. "Oh, morning life!" cried Yoomy, with a Persian air; "would that alltime were a sunrise, and all life a youth. " "Ah! but these striplings whimper of youth, " said Mohi, caressing hisbraids, "as if they wore this beard. " "But natural, old man, " said Babbalanja. "We Mardians never seem youngto ourselves; childhood is to youth what manhood is to age:--somethingto be looked back upon, with sorrow that it is past. But childhoodreeks of no future, and knows no past; hence, its present passes in avapor. " "Mohi, how's your appetite this morning?" said Media. "Thus, thus, ye gods, " sighed Yoomy, "is feeling ever scouted. Yet, what might seem feeling in me, I can not express. " "A good commentary on old Bardianna, Yoomy, " said Babbalanja, "whosomewhere says, that no Mardian can out with his heart, for hisunyielding ribs are in the way. And indeed, pride, or something akinthereto, often holds check on sentiment. My lord, there arethose who like not to be detected in the possession of a heart. " "Very true, Babbalanja; and I suppose that pride was at the bottom ofyour old Ponderer's heartless, unsentimental, bald-pated style. " "Craving pardon, my lord is deceived. Bardianna was not at all proud;though he had a queer way of showing the absence of pride. In hisessay, entitled, --"On the Tendency to curl in Upper Lips, " he thusdiscourses. "We hear much of pride and its sinfulness in this Mardiwherein we dwell: whereas, I glory in being brimmed with it;--my sortof pride. In the presence of kings, lords, palm-trees, and all thosewho deem themselves taller than myself, I stand stiff as a pike, andwill abate not one vertebra of my stature. But accounting no Mardianmy superior, I account none my inferior; hence, with the social, I amever ready to be sociable. " "An agrarian!" said Media; "no doubt he would have made the headsmanthe minister of equality. " "At bottom we are already equal, my honored lord, " said Babbalanja, profoundly bowing--"One way we all come into Mardi, and one way wewithdraw. Wanting his yams a king will starve, quick as a clown; andsmote on the hip, saith old Bardianna, he will roar as loud as thenext one. " "Roughly worded, that, Babbalanja. --Vee-Vee! my crown!--So; now, Babbalanja, try if you can not polish Bardianna's style in that lastsaying you father upon him. " "I will, my ever honorable lord, " said Babbalanja, salaming. "Thuswe'll word it, then: In their merely Mardian nature, the sublimestdemi-gods are subject to infirmities; for struck by some keen shaft, even a king ofttimes dons his crown, fearful of future darts. " "Ha, ha!--well done, Babbalanja; but I bade you polish, not sharpenthe arrow. " "All one, my thrice honored lord;--to polish is not to blunt. " CHAPTER XLVIIBabbalanja Philosophizes, And My Lord Media Passes Round TheCalabashes An interval of silence passed; when Media cried, "Out upon thee, Yoomy! curtail that long face of thine. " "How can he, my lord, " said Mohi, "when he is thinking of furlongs?" "Fathoms you mean, Mohi; see you not he is musing over the gunwale?And now, minstrel, a banana for thy thoughts. Come, tell me how youpoets spend so many hours in meditation. " "My lord, it is because, that when we think, we think so little ofourselves. " "I thought as much, " said Mohi, "for no sooner do I undertake to besociable with myself, than I am straightway forced to beat a retreat. " "Ay, old man, " said Babbalanja, "many of us Mardians are but sorryhosts to ourselves. Some hearts are hermits. " "If not of yourself, then, Yoomy, of whom else do you think?"asked Media. "My lord, I seldom think, " said Yoomy, "I but give ear to the voicesin my calm. " "Did Babbalanja speak?" said Media. "But no more of your reveries;"and so saying Media gradually sunk into a reverie himself. The rest did likewise; and soon, with eyes enchanted, all reclined:gazing at each other, witless of what we did. It was Media who broke the spell; calling for Vee-Vee our page, hiscalabashes and cups, and nectarines for all. Eyeing his goblet, Media at length threw himself back, and said:"Babbalanja, not ten minutes since, we were all absent-minded; now, how would you like to step out of your body, in reality; and, as aspirit, haunt some shadowy grove?" "But our lungs are not wholly superfluous, my lord, " said Babbalanja, speaking loud. "No, nor our lips, " said Mohi, smacking his over his wine. "But could you really be disembodied here in Mardi, Babbalanja, howwould you fancy it?" said Media. "My lord, " said Babbalanja, speaking through half of a nectarine, "defer putting that question, I beseech, till after my appetite issatisfied; for, trust me, no hungry mortal would forfeit his palate, to be resolved into the impalpable. " "Yet pure spirits we must all become at last, Babbalanja, " said Yoomy, "even the most ignoble. " "Yes, so they say, Yoomy; but if all boors be the immortal sires ofendless dynasties of immortals, how little do our pious patriciansbear in mind their magnificent destiny, when hourly they scorn theircompanionship. And if here in Mardi they can not abide an equalitywith plebeians, even at the altar; how shall they endure them, side byside, throughout eternity? But since the prophet Alma asserts, thatParadise is almost entirely made up of the poor and despised, nowonder that many aristocrats of our isles pursue a career, which, according to some theologies, must forever preserve the socialdistinctions so sedulously maintained in Mardi. And though some say, that at death every thing earthy is removed from the spirit, so thatclowns and lords both stand on a footing; yet, according to thepopular legends, it has ever been observed of the ghosts of boors whenrevisiting Mardi, that invariably they rise in their smocks. Andregarding our intellectual equality here, how unjust, my lord, thatafter whole years of days end nights consecrated to the hard gainingof wisdom, the wisest Mardian of us all should in the end findthe whole sum of his attainments, at one leap outstripped by theveriest dunce, suddenly inspired by light divine. And though somehold, that all Mardian lore is vain, and that at death all mysterieswill be revealed; yet, none the less, do they toil and ponder now. Thus, their tongues have one mind, and their understanding another. " "My lord, " said Mohi, "we have come to the lees; your pardon, Babbalanja. " "Then, Vee-Vee, another calabash! Fill up, Mohi; wash down wine withwine. Your cup, Babbalanja; any lees?" "Plenty, my lord; we philosophers come to the lees very soon. " "Flood them over, then; but cease not discoursing; thanks be to thegods, your mortal palates and tongues can both wag together; fill up, I say, Babbalanja; you are no philosopher, if you stop at the tenthcup; endurance is the test of philosophy all Mardi over; drink, I say, and make us wise by precept and example. --Proceed, Yoomy, you look asif you had something to say. " "Thanks, my lord. Just now, Babbalanja, you flew from the subject;--you spoke of boors; but has not the lowliest peasant an eye that cantake in the vast horizon at a sweep: mountains, vales, plains, andoceans? Is such a being nothing?" "But can that eye see itself, Yoomy?" said Babbalanja, winking. "Takenout of its socket, will it see at all? Its connection with the bodyimparts to it its virtue. " "He questions every thing, " cried Mohi. "Philosopher, have you a head?" "I have, " said Babbalanja, feeling for it; "I am finished off at thehelm very much as other Mardians, Mohi. " "My lord, the first yea that ever came from him. " "Ah, Mohi, " said Media, "the discourse waxes heavy. I fear me we haveagain come to the lees. Ho, Vee-Vee, a fresh calabash; and withit we will change the subject. Now, Babbalanja, I have this cup todrink, and then a question to propound. Ah, Mohi, rare old wine this;it smacks of the cork. But attention, Philosopher. Supposing you had awife--which, by the way, you have not--would you deem it sensible inher to imagine you no more, because you happened to stroll out of hersight?" "However that might be, " murmured Yoomy, "young Nina bewailed herselfa widow, whenever Arhinoo, her lord, was absent from her side. " "My lord Media, " said Babbalanja, "During my absence, my wife wouldhave more reason to conclude that I was not living, than that I was. To the former supposition, every thing tangible around her would tend;to the latter, nothing but her own fond fancies. It is thisimagination of ours, my lord, that is at the bottom of these things. When I am in one place, there exists no other. Yet am I but too apt tofancy the reverse. Nevertheless, when I am in Odo, talk not to me ofOhonoo. To me it is not, except when I am there. If it be, prove it. To prove it, you carry me thither but you only prove, that to itssubstantive existence, as cognizant to me, my presence isindispensable. I say that, to me, all Mardi exists by virtue of mysovereign pleasure; and when I die, the universe will perish with me. " "Come you of a long-lived race, " said Mohi, "one free from apoplexies?I have many little things to accomplish yet, and would not be left inthe lurch. " "Heed him not, Babbalanja, " said Media. "Dip your beak again, myeagle, and soar. " "Let us be eagles, then, indeed, my lord: eagle-like, let us look atthis red wine without blinking; let us grow solemn, not boisterous, with good cheer. " Then, lifting his cup, "My lord, serenely do I pity all who arestirred one jot from their centers by ever so much drinking of thisfluid. Ply him hard as you will, through the live-long polarnight, a wise man can not be made drunk. Though, toward sunrise, hisbody may reel, it will reel round its center; and though he make manytacks in going home, he reaches it at last; while scores of over-pliedfools are foundering by the way. My lord, when wild with much thought, 'tis to wine I fly, to sober me; its magic fumes breathe over me likethe Indian summer, which steeps all nature in repose. To me, wine isno vulgar fire, no fosterer of base passions; my heart, ever open, isopened still wider; and glorious visions are born in my brain; it isthen that I have all Mardi under my feet, and the constellations ofthe firmament in my soul. " "Superb!" cried Yoomy. "Pooh, pooh!" said Mohi, "who does not see stars at such times? I seethe Great Bear now, and the little one, its cub; and Andromeda, andPerseus' chain-armor, and Cassiopea in her golden chair, and thebright, scaly Dragon, and the glittering Lyre, and all the jewels inOrion's sword-hilt. " "Ay, " cried Media, "the study of astronomy is wonderfully facilitatedby wine. Fill up, old Ptolemy, and tell us should you discover a newplanet. Methinks this fluid needs stirring. Ho, Vee-Vee, my scepter!be we sociable. But come, Babbalanja, my gold-headed aquila, return toyour theme;--the imagination, if you please. " "Well, then, my lord, I was about to say, that the imagination is theVoli-Donzini; or, to speak plainer, the unical, rudimental, and all-comprehending abstracted essence of the infinite remoteness of things. Without it, we were grass-hoppers. " "And with it, you mortals are little else; do you not chirp all over, Mohi? By my demi-god soul, were I not what I am, this wine wouldalmost get the better of me. " "Without it--" continued Babbalanja. "Without what?" demanded Media, starting to his feet. "Thiswine? Traitor, I'll stand by this to the last gasp, you areinebriated, Babbalanja. " "Perhaps so, my lord; but I was treating of the imagination, may itplease you. " "My lord, " added Mohi, "of the unical, and rudimental fundament ofthings, you remember. " "Ah! there's none of them sober; proceed, proceed, Azzageddi!" "My lord waves his hand like a banner, " murmured Yoomy. "Without imagination, I say, an armless man, born, blind, could not bemade to believe, that he had a head of hair, since he could neithersee it, nor feel it, nor has hair any feeling of itself. " "Methinks though, " said Mohi, "if the cripple had a Tartar for a wife, he would not remain skeptical long. " "You all fly off at tangents, " cried Media, "but no wonder: yourmortal brains can not endure much quaffing. Return to your subject, Babbalanja. Assume now, Babbalanja, --assume, my dear prince--assumeit, assume it, I say!--Why don't you?" "I am willing to assume any thing you please, my lord: what is it?" "Ah! yes!--Assume that--that upon returning home, you should find yourwife had newly wedded, under the--the--the metaphysical presumption, that being no longer visible, you--_you_ Azzageddi, had departed thislife; in other words, out of sight, out of mind; what then, my dearprince?" "Why then, my lord, I would demolish my rival in a trice. " "Would you?--then--then so much for your metaphysics, Bab--Babbalanja. " Babbalanja rose to his feet, muttering to himself--"Is this assumed, or real?--Can a demi-god be mastered by wine? Yet, the old mythologiesmake bacchanals of the gods. But he was wondrous keen! Hefelled me, ere he fell himself. " "Yoomy, my lord Media is in a very merry mood to-day, " whispered Mohi, "but his counterfeit was not well done. No, no, a bacchanal is notused to be so logical in his cups. " CHAPTER XLVIIIThey Sail Round An Island Without Landing; And Talk Round A SubjectWithout Getting At It Purposing a visit to Kaleedoni, a country integrally united toDominora, our course now lay northward along the western white cliffsof the isle. But finding the wind ahead, and the current too strongfor our paddlers, we were fain to forego our destination; Babbalanjaobserving, that since in Dominora we had not found Yillah, then inKaleedoni the maiden could not be lurking. And now, some conversation ensued concerning the country we wereprevented from visiting. Our chronicler narrated many fine things ofits people; extolling their bravery in war, their amiability in peace, their devotion in religion, their penetration in philosophy, theirsimplicity and sweetness in song, their loving-kindness and frugalityin all things domestic:--running over a long catalogue of heroes, meta-physicians, bards, and good men. But as all virtues are convertible into vices, so in some cases didthe best traits of these people degenerate. Their frugality too oftenbecame parsimony; their devotion grim bigotry; and all this in agreater degree perhaps than could be predicated of the more immediatesubjects of King Bello. In Kaleedoni was much to awaken the fervor of its bards. Upland andlowland were full of the picturesque; and many unsung lyrics yetlurked in her glens. Among her blue, heathy hills, lingered manytribes, who in their wild and tattooed attire, still preserved thegarb of the mightiest nation of old times. They bared the knee, intoken that it was honorable as the face, since it had never been bent. While Braid-Beard was recounting these things, the currents weresweeping us over a strait, toward a deep green island, bewitching tobehold. Not greener that midmost terrace of the Andes, which under a torridmeridian steeps fair Quito in the dews of a perpetual spring;--notgreener the nine thousand feet of Pirohitee's tall peak, which, risingfrom out the warm bosom of Tahiti, carries all summer with it into theclouds;--nay, not greener the famed gardens of Cyrus, --than the vernallawn, the knoll, the dale of beautiful Verdanna. "Alas, sweet isle! Thy desolation is overrun with vines, " sighedYoomy, gazing. "Land of caitiff curs!" cried Media. "Isle, whose future is in its past. Hearth-stone, from which itschildren run, " said Babbalanja. "I can not read thy chronicles for blood, Verdanna, " murmured Mohi. Gliding near, we would have landed, but the rolling surf forbade. Thenthrice we circumnavigated the isle for a smooth, clear beach; but itwas not found. Meanwhile all still conversed. "My lord, " said Yoomy, "while we tarried with King Bello, I heard muchof the feud between Dominora and this unhappy shore. Yet is notVerdanna as a child of King Bello's?" "Yes, minstrel, a step-child, " said Mohi. "By way of enlarging his family circle, " said Babbalanja, "an old liononce introduced a deserted young stag to his den; but the stag neverbecame domesticated, and would still charge upon his foster-brothers. --Verdanna is not of the flesh and blood of Dominora, whence, in goodpart, these dissensions. " "But Babbalanja, is there no way of reconciling these foes?" "But one way, Yoomy:--By filling up this strait with dry land; for, divided by water, we Mardians must ever remain more or lessdivided at heart. Though Kaleedoni was united to Dominora longprevious to the union of Verdanna, yet Kaleedoni occasions Bello nodisquiet; for, geographically one, the two populations insensiblyblend at the point of junction. No hostile strait flows between thearms, that to embrace must touch. " "But, Babbalanja, " said Yoomy, "what asks Verdanna of Dominora, thatVerdanna so clamors at the denial?" "They are arrant cannibals, Yoomy, " said Media, "and desire theprivilege of eating each other up. " "King Bello's idea, " said Babbalanja; "but, in these things, my lord, you demi-gods are ever unanimous. But, whatever be Verdanna's demands, Bello persists in rejecting them. " "Why not grant every thing she asks, even to renouncing all claim uponthe isle, " said Mohi; "for thus, Bello would rid himself of manyperplexities. " "And think you, old man, " said Media, "that, bane or blessing, Bellowill yield his birthright? Will a tri-crowned king resign his triplediadem? And even did Bello what you propose he would only breed stillgreater perplexities. For if granted, full soon would Verdanna be gladto surrender many things she demands. And all she now asks, she hashad in times past; but without turning it to advantage:--and is shewiser now?" "Does she not demand her harvests, my lord?" saidYoomy, "and has not the reaper a right to his sheaf?" "Cant! cant! Yoomy. If you reap for me, the sheaf is mine. " "But if the reaper reaps on his own harvest-field, whose then thesheaf, my lord?" said Babbalanja. "His for whom he reaps--his lord's!" "Then let the reaper go with sickle and with sword, " said Yoomy, "withone hand, cut down the bearded grain; and with the other, smite hisbearded lords. " "Thou growest fierce, in thy lyric moods, my warlike dove, "said 'Media, blandly. "But for thee, philosopher, know thou, thatVerdanna's men are of blood and brain inferior to Bello's native race;and the better Mardian must ever rule. " "Verdanna inferior to Dominora, my lord!--Has she produced no bards, no orators, no wits, no patriots? Mohi, unroll thy chronicles! Tellme, if Verdanna may not claim full many a star along King Bello'stattooed arm of Fame? "Even so, " said Mohi. "Many chapters bear you out. " "But my lord, " said Babbalanja, "as truth, omnipresent, lurks in allthings, even in lies: so, does some germ of it lurk in the calumniesheaped on the people of this land. For though they justly boast ofmany lustrous names, these jewels gem no splendid robe. And thoughlike a bower of grapes, Verdanna is full of gushing juices, spoutingout in bright sallies of wit, yet not all her grapes make wine; andhere and there, hang goodly clusters mildewed; or half devoured byworms, bred in their own tendrils. " "Drop, drop your grapes and metaphors!" cried Media. "Bring forth yourthoughts like men; let them come naked into Mardi. --What do you mean, Babbalanja?" "This, my lord, Verdanna's worst evils are her own, not of another'sgiving. Her own hand is her own undoer. She stabs herself withbigotry, superstition, divided councils, domestic feuds, ignorance, temerity; she wills, but does not; her East is one black storm-cloud, that never bursts; her utmost fight is a defiance; she showersreproaches, where she should rain down blows. She stands a mastiffbaying at the moon. " "Tropes on tropes!" said. Media. "Let me tell the tale, --straight-forward like a line. Verdanna is a lunatic--" "A trope! my lord, " cried Babbalanja. "My tropes are not tropes, " said Media, "but yours are. --Verdanna is alunatic, that after vainly striving to cut another's throat, grimaces before a standing pool and threatens to cut his own. And issuch a madman to be intrusted with himself? No; let another governhim, who is ungovernable to himself Ay, and tight hold the rein; andcurb, and rasp the bit. Do I exaggerate?--Mohi, tell me, if, save onelucid interval, Verdanna, while independent of Dominora, everdiscreetly conducted her affairs? Was she not always full of fightsand factions? And what first brought her under the sway of Bello'sscepter? Did not her own Chief Dermoddi fly to Bello's ancestor forprotection against his own seditious subjects? And thereby did not herown king unking himself? What wonder, then, and where the wrong, ifHenro, Bello's conquering sire, seized the diadem?" "What my lord cites is true, " said Mohi, "but cite no more, I pray;lest, you harm your cause. " "Yet for all this, Babbalanja, " said Media, "Bello but holds lunaticVerdanna's lands in trust. " "And may the guardian of an estate also hold custody of the ward, mylord?" "Ay, if he can. What _can_ be done, may be: that's the Greed of demi-gods. " "Alas, alas!" cried Yoomy, "why war with words over this poor, suffering land. See! for all her bloom, her people starve; perish heryams, ere taken from the soil; the blight of heaven seems upon them. " "Not so, " said Media. "Heaven sends no blights. Verdanna will notlearn. And if from one season's rottenss, rottenness they sow again, rottenness must they reap. But Yoomy, you seem earnest in thismatter;--come: on all hands it is granted that evils exist inVerdanna; now sweet Sympathizer, what must the royal Bello do to mendthem?" "I am no sage, " said Yoomy, "what would my lord Media do?" "What would _you_ do, Babbalanja, " said Media. "Mohi, what you?" asked the philosopher. "And what would the company do?" added Mohi. "Now, though these evils pose us all, " said Babbalanja, "there latelydied in Verdanna, one, who set about curing them in a humane andpeaceable way, waving war and bloodshed. That man was Konno. Under ahuge caldron, he kept a roaring fire. " "Well, Azzageddi, how could that answer his purpose?" asked Media. "Nothing better, my lord. His fire boiled his bread-fruit; and soconvinced were his countrymen, that he was well employed, that theyalmost stripped their scanty orchards to fill his caldron. " "Konno was a knave, " said Mohi. "Your pardon, old man, but that is only known to his ghost, not to us. At any rate he was a great man; for even assuming he cajoled hiscountry, no common man could have done it. " "Babbalanja, " said Mohi, "my lord has been pleased to pronounceVerdanna crazy; now, may not her craziness arise from the irritating, tantalizing practices of Dominora?" "Doubtless, Braid-Beard, many of the extravagances of Verdanna, are ingood part to be ascribed to the cause you mention; but, to beimpartial, none the less does Verdanna essay to taunt and provokeDominora; yet not with the like result. Perceive you, Braid-Beard, that the trade-wind blows dead across this strait from Dominora, andnot from Verdanna? Hence, when King Bello's men fling gibes andinsults, every missile hits; but those of Verdanna are blown back inits teeth: her enemies jeering her again and again. " "King Bello's men are dastards for that, " cried Yoomy. "It showsneither sense, nor spirit, nor humanity, " said Babbalanja. "All wide of the mark, " cried Media. "What is to be done forVerdanna?" "What will she do for herself?" said Babbalanja. "Philosopher, you are an extraordinary sage; and since sages should beseers, reveal Verdanna's future. " "My lord, you will ever find true prophets, prudent; nor will anyprophet risk his reputation upon predicting aught concerning thisland. The isles are Oro's. Nevertheless, he who doctors Verdannaaright, will first medicine King Bello; who in some things is, himselfa patient, though he would fain be a physician. However, my lord, there is a demon of a doctor in Mardi, who at last deals with thesedesperate cases. He employs only pills, picked off the ConrouptaQuiancensis tree. " "And what sort of a vegetable is that?" asked Mohi. "Consult thebotanists, " said Babbalanja. CHAPTER XLIXThey Draw Nigh To Porpheero; Where They Behold A Terrific Eruption Gliding away from Verdanna at the turn of the tide, we cleared thestrait, and gaining the more open lagoon, pointed our prows forPorpheero, from whose magnificent monarchs my lord Media promisedhimself a glorious reception. "They are one and all demi-gods, " he cried, "and have the old demi-godfeeling. We have seen no great valleys like theirs:--their sceptersare long as our spears; to their sumptuous palaces, Donjalolo's arebut inns:--their banquetting halls are as vistas; no generations runparallel to theirs:--their pedigrees reach back into chaos. "Babbalanja! here you will find food for philosophy:--the whole landcheckered with nations, side by side contrasting in costume, manners, and mind. Here you will find science and sages; manuscripts in miles;bards singing in choirs. "Mohi! here you will flag over your page; in Porpheero the ages havehived all their treasures: like a pyramid, the past shadows over theland. "Yoomy! here you will find stuff for your songs:--blue rivers flowingthrough forest arches, and vineyards; velvet meads, soft as ottomans:bright maidens braiding the golden locks of the harvest; and abackground of mountains, that seem the end of the world. Or if naturewill not content you, then turn to the landscapes of art. See! mosaicwalls, tattooed like our faces; paintings, vast as horizons;and into which, you feel you could rush: See! statues to which youcould off turban; cities of columns standing thick as mankind; andfirmanent domes forever shedding their sunsets of gilding: See! spirebehind spire, as if the land were the ocean, and all Bello's greatnavy were riding at anchor. "Noble Taji! you seek for your Yillah;--give over despair! Porpheero'ssuch a scene of enchantment, that there, the lost maiden must lurk. " "A glorious picture!" cried Babbalanja, but turn the medal, my lord;--what says the reverse?" "Cynic! have done. --But bravo! we'll ere long be in Franko, thegoodliest vale of them all; how I long to take her old king by thehand!" The sun was now setting behind us, lighting up the white cliffs ofDominora, and the green capes of Verdanna; while in deep shade laybefore us the long winding shores of Porpheero. It was a sunset serene. "How the winds lowly warble in the dying day's ear, " murmured Yoomy. "A mild, bright night, we'll have, " said Media. "See you not those clouds over Franko, my lord, " said Mohi, shakinghis head. "Ah, aged and weather-wise as ever, sir chronicler;--I predict a fairnight, and many to follow. " "Patience needs no prophet, " said Babbalanja. "The night, is at hand. " Hitherto the lagoon had been smooth: but anon, it grew black, andstirred; and out of the thick darkness came clamorous sounds. Soon, there shot into the air a vivid meteor, which bursting at the zenith, radiated down the firmament in fiery showers, leaving treble darknessbehind. Then as all held their breath, from Franko there spouted an eruption, which seemed to plant all Mardi in the foreground. As when Vesuvius lights her torch, and in the blaze, the storm-sweptsurges in Naples' bay rear and plunge toward it; so now, showedFranko's multitudes, as they stormed the summit where their monarch'spalace blazed, fast by the burning mountain. "By my eternal throne!" cried Media, starting, "the old volcano hasburst forth again!" "But a new vent, my lord, " said Babbalanja. "More fierce this, than the eruption which happened in my youth, " saidMohi--"methinks that Franko's end has come. " "You look pale, my lord, " said Babbalanja, "while all other facesglow;--Yoomy, doff that halo in the presence of a king. " Over the waters came a rumbling sound, mixed with the din of warfare, and thwarted by showers of embers that fell not, for the whirlingblasts. "Off shore! off shore!" cried Media; and with all haste we gained aplace of safety. Down the valley now poured Rhines and Rhones of lava, a fire-freshet, flooding the forests from their fastnesses, and leaping with them intothe seething sea. The shore was lined with multitudes pushing off wildly in canoes. Meantime, the fiery storm from Franko, kindled new flames in thedistant valleys of Porpheero; while driven over from Verdanna camefrantic shouts, and direful jubilees. Upon Dominora a baleful glarewas resting. "Thrice cursed flames!" cried Media. "Is Mardi to be oneconflagration? How it crackles, forks, and roars!--Is this our funeralpyre?" "Recline, recline, my lord, " said Babbalanja. "Fierce flames are everbrief--a song, sweet Yoomy! Your pipe, old Mohi! Greater fires thanthis have ere now blazed in Mardi. Let us be calm;--the isles weremade to burn;--Braid-Beard! hereafter, in some quiet cell, of thiswhole scene you will but make one chapter;--come, digest it now. " "My face is scorched, " cried Media. "The last, last day!" cried Mohi. "Not so, old man, " said Babbalanja, "when that day dawns, 'twill dawnserene. Be calm, be calm, my potent lord. " "Talk not of calm brows in storm-time!" cried Media fiercely. "See!how the flames blow over upon Dominora!" "Yet the fires they kindle there are soon extinguished, " saidBabbalanja. "No, no; Dominora ne'er can burn with Franko's fires; onlythose of her own kindling may consume her. " "Away! Away!" cried Media. "We may not touch Porpheero now. --Up sails!and westward be our course. " So dead before the blast, we scudded. Morning broke, showing no sign of land. "Hard must it go with Franko's king, " said Media, "when his peoplerise against him with the red volcanoes. Oh, for a foot to crush them!Hard, too, with all who rule in broad Porpheero. And may she we seek, survive this conflagration!" "My lord, " said Babbalanja, "where'ere she hide, ne'er yet did Yillahlurk in this Porpheero; nor have we missed the maiden, noble Taji! innot touching at its shores. " "This fire must make a desert of the land, " said Mohi; "burn up andbury all her tilth. " "Yet, Mohi, vineyards flourish over buried villages, " murmured Yoomy. "True, minstrel, " said Babbalanja, "and prairies are purified by fire. Ashes breed loam. Nor can any skill make the same surface foreverfruitful. In all times past, things have been overlaid; and though thefirst fruits of the marl are wild and poisonous, the palms at lastspring forth; and once again the tribes repose in shade. My lord, ifcalms breed storms, so storms calms; and all this dire commotion musteventuate in peace. It may be, that Perpheero's future has beencheaply won. " CHAPTER LWherein King Media Celebrates The Glories Of Autumn, The Minstrel, ThePromise Of Spring "Ho, now!" cried Media, "across the wide waters, for that New Mardi, Vivenza! Let us indeed see, whether she who eludes us elsewhere, he atlast found in Vivenza's vales. " "There or nowhere, noble Taji, " said Yoomy. "Be not too sanguine, gentle Yoomy, " said Babbalanja. "Does Yillah choose rather to bower in the wild wilderness of Vivenza, than in the old vineyards of Porpheero?" said Braid-Beard. Sang Yoomy:-- Her bower is not of the vine, But the wild, wild eglantine! Not climbing a moldering arch, But upheld by the fir-green larch. Old ruins she flies: To new valleys she hies:-- Not the hoar, moss-wood, Ivied trees each a rood-- Not in Maramma she dwells, Hollow with hermit cells. 'Tis a new, new isle! An infant's its smile, Soft-rocked by the sea. Its bloom all in bud; No tide at its flood, In that fresh-born sea! Spring! Spring! where she dwells, In her sycamore dells, Where Mardi is young and new: Its verdure all eyes with dew. There, there! in the bright, balmy morns, The young deer sprout their horns, Deep-tangled in new-branching groves, Where the Red-Rover Robin roves, -- Stooping his crest, To his molting breast-- Rekindling the flambeau there! Spring! Spring! where she dwells, In her sycamore dells:-- Where, fulfilling their fates, All creatures seek mates-- The thrush, the doe, and the hare! "Thou art most musical, sweet Yoomy, " said Media. "concerning thisspring-land Vivenza. But are not the old autumnal valleys of Porpheeromore glorious than those of vernal Vivenza? Vivenza shows no trophiesof the summer time, but Dominora's full-blown rose hangs blushing onher garden walls; her autumn groves are glory-dyed. " "My lord, autumn soon merges in winter, but the spring has all theseasons before. The full-blown rose is nearer withering than the bud. The faint morn is a blossom: the crimson sunset the flower. " CHAPTER LIIn Which Azzageddi Seems To Use Babbalanja For A Mouth-Piece Porpheero far astern, the spirits of the company rose. Once again, oldMohi serenely unbraided, and rebraided his beard; and sitting Turk-wise on his mat, my lord Media smoking his gonfalon, diverted himselfwith the wild songs of Yoomy, the wild chronicles of Mohi, or thestill wilder speculations of Babbalanja; now and then, as from pitcherto pitcher, pouring royal old wine down his soul. Among other things, Media, who at times turned over Babbalanja for anencyclopaedia, however unreliable, demanded information upon thesubject of neap tides and their alleged slavish vassalage to the moon. When true to his cyclopaediatic nature, Babbalanja quoted from a stillolder and better authority than himself; in brief, from no other thaneternal Bardianna. It seems that that worthy essayist had discussedthe whole matter in a chapter thus headed: "On Seeing into Mysteriesthrough Mill-Stones;" and throughout his disquisitions he evinced sucha profundity of research, though delivered in a style somewhatequivocal, that the company were much struck by the eruditiondisplayed. "Babbalanja, that Bardianna of yours must have been a wonderfulstudent, " said Media after a pause, "no doubt he consumed wholethickets of rush-lights. " "Not so, my lord. --'Patience, patience, philosophers, ' said Bardianna;'blow out your tapers, bolt not your dinners, take time, wisdom willbe plenty soon. '" "A notable hint! Why not follow it, Babbalanja?" "Because, my lord, I have overtaken it, and passed on. " "True to your nature, Babbalanja; you stay nowhere. " "Ay, keep moving is my motto; but speaking of hard students, did mylord ever hear of Midni the ontologist and entomologist?" "No. " "Then, my lord, you shall hear of him now. Midni was of opinion thatday-light was vulgar; good enough for taro-planting and traveling; butwholly unadapted to the sublime ends of study. He toiled by night;from sunset to sunrise poring over the works of the old logicans. Likemost philosophers, Midni was an amiable man; but one thing invariablyput him out. He read in the woods by glow-worm light; insect in hand, tracing over his pages, line by line. But glow-worms burn not long:and in the midst of some calm intricate thought, at some imminentcomma, the insect often expired, and Midni groped for a meaning. Uponsuch an occasion, 'Ho, Ho, ' he cried; 'but for one instant of sun-light to see my way to a period!' But sun-light there was none; soMidni sprang to his feet, and parchment under arm, raced about amongthe sloughs and bogs for another glow-worm. Often, making a rapiddescent with his turban, he thought he had caged a prize; but nay. Again he tried; yet with no better succcess. Nevertheless, at last hesecured one; but hardly had he read three lines by its light, when outit went. Again and again this occurred. And thus he forever wenthalting and stumbling through his studies, and plunging through hisquagmires after a glim. " At this ridiculous tale, one of our silliest paddlers burst intouncontrollable mirth. Offended at which breach of decorum, Mediasharply rebuked him. But he protested he could not help laughing. Again Media was about to reprimand him, when Babbalanja begged leaveto interfere. "My lord, he is not to blame. Mark how earnestly he struggles tosuppress his mirth; but he can not. It has often been the same withmyself. And many a time have I not only vainly sought to check mylaughter, but at some recitals I have both laughed and cried. But canopposite emotions be simultaneous in one being? No. I wanted to weep;but my body wanted to smile, and between us we almost choked. My lordMedia, this man's body laughs; not the man himself. " "But his body is his own, Babbalanja; and he should have it underbetter control. " "The common error, my lord. Our souls belong to our bodies, not ourbodies to our souls. For which has the care of the other? which keepshouse? which looks after the replenishing of the aorta and auricles, and stores away the secretions? Which toils and ticks while the othersleeps? Which is ever giving timely hints, and elderly warnings? Whichis the most authoritative?--Our bodies, surely. At a hint, you mustmove; at a notice to quit, you depart. Simpletons show us, that a bodycan get along almost without a soul; but of a soul getting alongwithout a body, we have no tangible and indisputable proof. My lord, the wisest of us breathe involuntarily. And how many millions thereare who live from day to day by the incessant operation of subtleprocesses in them, of which they know nothing, and care less? Littleween they, of vessels lacteal and lymphatic, of arteries femoral andtemporal; of pericranium or pericardium; lymph, chyle, fibrin, albumen, iron in the blood, and pudding in the head; they live by thecharity of their bodies, to which they are but butlers. I say, mylord, our bodies are our betters. A soul so simple, that it prefersevil to good, is lodged in a frame, whose minutest action is full ofunsearchable wisdom. Knowing this superiority of theirs, our bodiesare inclined to be willful: our beards grow in spite of us; and asevery one knows, they sometimes grow on dead men. " "You mortals are alive, then, when you are dead, Babbalanja. " "No, my lord; but our beards survive us. " "An ingenious distinction; go on, philosopher. " "Without bodies, my lord, we Mardians would be minus our strongestmotive-passions, those which, in some way or other, root under ourevery action. Hence, without bodies, we must be something else than weessentially are. Wherefore, that saying imputed to Alma, and which, byhis very followers, is deemed the most hard to believe of all hisinstructions, and the most at variance with all preconceived notionsof immortality, I Babbalanja, account the most reasonable of hisdoctrinal teachings. It is this;--that at the last day, every manshall rise in the flesh. " "Pray, Babbalanja, talk not of resurrections to a demi-god. " "Then let me rehearse a story, my lord. You will find it in the 'VeryMerry Marvelings' of the Improvisitor Quiddi; and a quaint book it is. Fugle-fi is its finis:--fugle-fi, fugle-fo, fugle-fogle-orum!" "That wild look in his eye again, " murmured Yoomy. "Proceed, Azzageddi, " said Media. "The philosopher Grando had a sovereign contempt for his carcass. Often he picked a quarrel with it; and always was flying out in itsdisparagement. 'Out upon you, you beggarly body! you clog, drug, drag!You keep me from flying; I could get along better without you. Outupon you, I say, you vile pantry, cellar, sink, sewer; abominablebody! what vile thing are you not? And think you, beggar! to have theupper hand of me? Make a leg to that man if you dare, without mypermission. This smell is intolerable; but turn from it, if you can, unless I give the word. Bolt this yam!--it is done. Carry me acrossyon field!--off we go. Stop!--it's a dead halt. There, I've trainedyou enough for to-day; now, sirrah, crouch down in the shade, and bequiet. --I'm rested. So, here's for a stroll, and a reverie homeward:--Up, carcass, and march. ' So the carcass demurely rose andpaced, and the philosopher meditated. He was intent upon squaring thecircle; but bump he came against a bough. 'How now, clodhoppingbumpkin! you would take advantage of my reveries, would you? But I'llbe even with you;' and seizing a cudgel, he laid across his shoulderswith right good will. But one of his backhanded thwacks injured hisspinal cord; the philosopher dropped; but presently came to. 'Adzooks!I'll bend or break you! Up, up, and I'll run you home for this. ' Butwonderful to tell, his legs refused to budge; all sensation had leftthem. But a huge wasp happening to sting his foot, not him, for hefelt it not, the leg incontinently sprang into the air, and of itself, cut all manner of capers. Be still! Down with you!' But the legrefused. 'My arms are still loyal, ' thought Grando; and with them heat last managed to confine his refractory member. But all commands, volitions, and persuasions, were as naught to induce his limbs tocarry him home. It was a solitary place; and five days after, Grandothe philosopher was found dead under a tree. " "Ha, ha!" laughed Media, "Azzageddi is full as merry as ever. " "But, my lord, " continued Babbalanja, "some creatures have still moreperverse bodies than Grando's. In the fables of Ridendiabola, this isto be found. 'A fresh-water Polyp, despising its marine existence;longed to live upon air. But all it could do, its tentacles or armsstill continued to cram its stomach. By a sudden preternaturalimpulse, however, the Polyp at last turned itself inside out;supposing that after such a proceeding it would have no gastronomicinterior. But its body proved ventricle outside as well as in. Againits arms went to work; food was tossed in, and digestion continued. '" "Is the literal part of that a fact?" asked Mohi. "True as truth, " said Babbalanja; "the Polyp will live turned inside out. " "Somewhat curious, certainly, " said Media. --"But me-thinks, Babbalanja, that somewhere I have heard something about organicfunctions, so called; which may account for the phenomena you mention;and I have heard too, me-thinks, of what are called reflex actions ofthe nerves, which, duly considered, might deprive of its strangenessthat story of yours concerning Grande and his body. " "Mere substitutions of sounds for inexplicable meanings, my lord. Insome things science cajoles us. Now, what is undeniable of the Polypsome physiologists analogically maintain with regard to us Mardians;that forasmuch, as the lining of our interiors is nothing more than acontinuation of the epidermis, or scarf-skin, therefore, that in aremote age, we too must have been turned wrong side out: anhypothesis, which, indirectly might account for our moralperversities: and also, for that otherwise nonsensical term--'the coatof the stomach;' for originally it must have been a surtout, insteadof an inner garment. " "Pray, Azzageddi, " said Media, "are you not a fool?" "One of a jolly company, my lord; but some creatures besides wearingtheir surtouts within, sport their skeletons without: witness thelobster and turtle, who alive, study their own anatomies. " "Azzageddi, you are a zany. " "Pardon, my lord, " said Mohi, "I think him more of a lobster; it'shard telling his jaws from his claws. " "Yes, Braid-Beard, I am a lobster, a mackerel, any thing you please;but my ancestors were kangaroos, not monkeys, as old Boddo erroneouslyopined. My idea is more susceptible of demonstration than his. Amongthe deepest discovered land fossils, the relics of kangaroos arediscernible, but no relics of men. Hence, there were no giants inthose days; but on the contrary, kangaroos; and those kangaroos formedthe first edition of mankind, since revised and corrected. " "What has become of our finises, or tails, then?" asked Mohi, wriggling in his seat. "The old question, Mohi. But where are the tails of the tadpoles, after their gradual metamorphosis into frogs? Have frogs any tails, old man? Our tails, Mohi, were worn off by the process ofcivilization; especially at the period when our fathers began to adoptthe sitting posture: the fundamental evidence of all civilization, forneither apes, nor savages, can be said to sit; invariably, they squaton their hams. Among barbarous tribes benches and settles are unknown. But, my lord Media, as your liege and loving subject I can notsufficiently deplore the deprivation of your royal tail. That stiffand vertebrated member, as we find it in those rustic kinsmen we havedisowned, would have been useful as a supplement to your royal legs;and whereas my good lord is now fain to totter on two stanchions, werehe only a kangaroo, like the monarchs of old, the majesty of Odo wouldbe dignified, by standing firm on a tripod. " "A very witty conceit! But have a care, Azzageddi; your theory appliesnot to me. " "Babbalanja, " said Mohi, "you must be the last of the kangaroos. " "I am, Mohi. " "But the old fashioned pouch or purse of your grandams?" hinted Media. "My lord, I take it, that must have been transferred; nowadays our sexcarries the purse. " "Ha, ha!" "My lord, why this mirth? Let us be serious. Although man is no longera kangaroo, he may be said to be an inferior species of plant. Plantsproper are perhaps insensible of the circulation of their sap: wemortals are physically unconscious of the circulation of the blood;and for many ages were not even aware of the fact. Plants know nothingof their interiors:--three score years and ten we trundle about ours, and never get a peep at them; plants stand on their stalks:--we stalkon our legs; no plant flourishes over its dead root:--dead in thegrave, man lives no longer above ground; plants die withoutfood:--so we. And now for the difference. Plants elegantly inhalenourishment, without looking it up: like lords, they stand still andare served; and though green, never suffer from the colic:--whereas, we mortals must forage all round for our food: we cram our insides;and are loaded down with odious sacks and intestines. Plants make loveand multiply; but excel us in all amorous enticements, wooing andwinning by soft pollens and essences. Plants abide in one place, andlive: we must travel or die. Plants flourish without us: we mustperish without them. " "Enough Azzageddi!" cried Media. "Open not thy lips till to-morrow. "' CHAPTER LIIThe Charming Yoomy Sings The morrow came; and three abreast, with snorting prows, we racedalong; our mat-sails panting to the breeze. All present partook of thelife of the air; and unanimously Yoomy was called upon for a song. Thecanoes were passing a long, white reef, sparkling with shells, like ajeweler's case: and thus Yoomy sang in the same old strain as of yore;beginning aloud, where he had left off in his soul:-- Her sweet, sweet mouth! The peach-pearl shell:-- Red edged its lips, That softly swell, Just oped to speak, With blushing cheek, That fisherman With lonely spear On the reef ken, And lift to ear Its voice to hear, -- Soft sighing South! Like this, like this, -- The rosy kiss!-- That maiden's mouth. A shell! a shell! A vocal shell! Song-dreaming, In its inmost dell! Her bosom! Two buds half blown, they tell; A little valley between perfuming; That roves away, Deserting the day, -- The day of her eyes illuming;-- That roves away, o'er slope and fell, Till a soft, soft meadow becomes the dell. Thus far, old Mohi had been wriggling about in his seat, twitching hisbeard, and at every couplet looking up expectantly, as if he desiredthe company to think, that he was counting upon that line as the last;But now, starting to his feet, he exclaimed, "Hold, minstrel! thymuse's drapery is becoming disordered: no more!" "Then no more it shall be, " said Yoomy, "But you have lost a glorioussequel. " CHAPTER LIIIThey Draw Nigh Unto Land In good time, after many days sailing, we snuffed the land from afar, and came to a great country, full of inland mountains, north and southstretching far out of sight. "All hail, Kolumbo!" cried Yoomy. Coasting by a portion of it, which Mohi called Kanneeda, a province ofKing Bello's, we perceived the groves rocking in the wind; theirflexible boughs bending like bows; and the leaves flying forth, anddarkening the landscape, like flocks of pigeons. "Those groves must soon fall, " said Mohi. "Not so, " said Babbalanja. "My lord, as these violent gusts are formedby the hostile meeting of two currents, one from over the lagoon, theother from land; they may be taken as significant of the occasionalvariances between Kanneeda and Dominora. " "Ay, " said Media, "and as Mohi hints, the breeze from Dominora mustsoon overthrow the groves of Kanneeda. " "Not if the land-breeze holds, my lord;--one breeze oft blows anotherhome. --Stand up, and gaze! From cape to cape, this whole main we see, is young and froward. And far southward, past this Kanneeda andVivenza, are haughty, overbearing streams, which at their mouths damback the ocean, and long refuse to mix their freshness with theforeign brine:--so bold, so strong, so bent on hurling off aggressionis this brave main, Kolumbo;--last sought, last found, Mardi's estate, so long kept back;--pray Oro, it be not squandered foolishly. Here lie plantations, held in fee by stout hearts and arms; andboundless fields, that may be had for seeing. Here, your foes areforests, struck down with bloodless maces. --Ho! Mardi's Poor, andMardi's Strong! ye, who starve or beg; seventh-sons who slave forearth's first-born--here is your home; predestinated yours; Come over, Empire-founders! fathers of the wedded tribes to come!--abject now, illustrious evermore:--Ho: Sinew, Brawn, and Thigh!" "A very fine invocation, " said Media, "now Babbalanja, be seated; andtell us whether Dominora and the kings of Porpheero do not own somesmall portion of this great continent, which just now you poeticallypronounced as the spoil of any vagabonds who may choose to settletherein? Is not Kanneeda, Dominora's?" "And was not Vivenza once Dominora's also? And what Vivenza now is, Kanneeda soon must be. I speak not, my lord, as wishful of what I say, but simply as foreknowing it. The thing must come. Vain for Dominorato claim allegiance from all the progeny she spawns. As well might theold patriarch of the flood reappear, and claim the right of rule overall mankind, as descended from the loins of his three roving sons. "'Tis the old law:--the East peoples the West, the West the East; fluxand reflux. And time may come, after the rise and fall of nations yetunborn, that, risen from its future ashes, Porpheero shall be thepromised land, and from her surplus hordes Kolumbo people it. " Still coasting on, next day, we came to Vivenza; and as Media desiredto land first at a point midway between its extremities, in order tobehold the convocation of chiefs supposed to be assembled at thisseason, we held on our way, till we gained a lofty ridge, jutting outinto the lagoon, a bastion to the neighboring land. It terminated in alofty natural arch of solid trap. Billows beat against its base. Butabove, waved an inviting copse, wherein was revealed an opentemple of canes, containing one only image, that of a helmeted female, the tutelar deity of Vivenza. The canoes drew near. "Lo! what inscription is that?" cried Media, "there, chiseled over thearch?" Studying those immense hieroglyphics awhile, antiquarian Mohi stilleyeing them, said slowly:--"In-this-re-publi-can-land-all-men-are-born-free-and-equal. " "False!" said Media. "And how long stay they so?" said Babbalanja. "But look lower, old man, " cried Media, "methinks there's a smallhieroglyphic or two hidden away in yonder angle. --Interpret them, oldman. " After much screwing of his eyes, for those characters were veryminute, Champollion Mohi thus spoke--" Except-the-tribe-of-Hamo. " "That nullifies the other, " cried Media. "Ah, ye republicans!" "It seems to have been added for a postscript, " rejoined Braid-Beard, screwing his eyes again. "Perhaps so, " said Babbalanja, "but some wag must have done it. " Shooting through the arch, we rapidly gained the beach. CHAPTER LIVThey Visit The Great Central Temple Of Vivenza The throng that greeted us upon landing were exceedingly boisterous. "Whence came ye?" they cried. "Whither bound? Saw ye ever such a landas this? Is it not a great and extensive republic? Pray, observe howtall we are; just feel of our thighs; Are we not a glorious people?Here, feel of our beards. Look round; look round; be not afraid;Behold those palms; swear now, that this land surpasses all others. Old Bello's mountains are mole-hills to ours; his rivers, rills; hisempires, villages; his palm-trees, shrubs. " "True, " said Babbalanja. "But great Oro must have had some hand inmaking your mountains and streams. --Would ye have been as great in adesert?" "Where is your king?" asked Media, drawing himself up in his robe, andcocking his crown. "Ha, ha, my fine fellow! We are all kings here; royalty breathes inthe common air. But come on, come on. Let us show you our great Templeof Freedom. " And so saying, irreverently grasping his sacred arm, they conducted ustoward a lofty structure, planted upon a bold hill, and supported bythirty pillars of palm; four quite green; as if recently added; andbeyond these, an almost interminable vacancy, as if all the palms inMardi, were at some future time, to aid in upholding that fabric. Upon the summit of the temple was a staff; and as we drew nigh, a manwith a collar round his neck, and the red marks of stripes upon hisback, was just in the act of hoisting a tappa standard--correspondingly striped. Other collared menials were going in and outof the temple. Near the porch, stood an image like that on the top of the arch we hadseen. Upon its pedestal, were pasted certain hieroglyphical notices;according to Mohi, offering rewards for missing men, so many hands high. Entering the temple, we beheld an amphitheatrical space, in the middleof which, a great fire was burning. Around it, were many chiefs, robedin long togas, and presenting strange contrasts in their style oftattooing. Some were sociably laughing, and chatting; others diligently makingexcavations between their teeth with slivers of bamboo; or turningtheir heads into mills, were grinding up leaves and ejecting theirjuices. Some were busily inserting the down of a thistle into theirears. Several stood erect, intent upon maintaining striking attitudes;their javelins tragically crossed upon their chests. They would havelooked very imposing, were it not, that in rear their vesture wassadly disordered. Others, with swelling fronts, seemed chieflyindebted to their dinners for their dignity. Many were nodding andnapping. And, here and there, were sundry indefatigable worthies, making a great show of imperious and indispensable business;sedulously folding banana leaves into scrolls, and recklessly placingthem into the hands of little boys, in gay turbans and trim littlegirdles, who thereupon fled as if with salvation for the dying. It was a crowded scene; the dusky chiefs, here and there, groupedtogether, and their fantastic tattooings showing like the carved workon quaint old chimney-stacks, seen from afar. But one of their numberovertopped all the rest. As when, drawing nigh unto old Rome, amid thecrowd of sculptured columns and gables, St. Peter's grand dome soarsfar aloft, serene in the upper air; so, showed one calm grand foreheadamong those of this mob of chieftains. That head was Saturnina's. Galland Spurzheim! saw you ever such a brow?--poised like an avalanche, under the shadow of a forest! woe betide the devoted valleysbelow! Lavatar! behold those lips, --like mystic scrolls! Those eyes, --like panthers' caves at the base of Popocatepetl! "By my right hand, Saturnina, " cried Babbalanja, "but thou wert madein the image of thy Maker! Yet, have I beheld men, to the eye ascommanding as thou; and surmounted by heads globe-like as thine, whonever had thy caliber. We must measure brains, not heads, my lord; else, the sperm whale, with his tun of an occiput, would transcend us all. " Near by, were arched ways, leading to subterranean places, whenceissued a savory steam, and an extraordinary clattering of calabashes, and smacking of lips, as if something were being eaten down there bythe fattest of fat fellows, with the heartiest of appetites, and themost irresistible of relishes. It was a quaffing, guzzling, gobblingnoise. Peeping down, we beheld a company, breasted up against a board, groaning under numerous viands. In the middle of all, was a mightygreat gourd, yellow as gold, and jolly round like a pumpkin inOctober, and so big it must have grown in the sun. Thence flowed atide of red wine. And before it, stood plenty of paunches being filledtherewith like portly stone jars at a fountain. Melancholy to tell, before that fine flood of old wine, and among those portly old topers, was a lean man; who occasionally ducked in his bill. He looked like anibis standing in the Nile at flood tide, among a tongue-lapping herdof hippopotami. They were jolly as the jolliest; and laughed so uproariously, thattheir hemispheres all quivered and shook, like vast provinces in anearthquake. Ha! ha! ha! how they laughed, and they roared. A deaf manmight have heard them; and no milk could have soured within a forty-two-pounder ball shot of that place. Now, the smell of good things is no very bad thing in itself. It isthe savor of good things beyond; proof positive of a glorious good meal. So snuffing up those zephyrs from Araby the blest, those boisterousgales, blowing from out the mouths of baked boars, stuffed with bread-fruit, bananas, and sage, we would fain have gone down and partaken. But this could not be; for we were told that those worthies below, were a club in secret conclave; very busy in settling certain weightystate affairs upon a solid basis, They were all chiefs of immensecapacity:--how many gallons, there was no finding out. Be sure, now, a most riotous noise came up from those catacombs, whichseemed full of the ghosts of fat Lamberts; and this uproar it was, that heightened the din above-ground. But heedless of all, in the midst of the amphitheater, stood a tall, gaunt warrior, ferociously tattooed, with a beak like a buzzard; longdusty locks; and his hands full of headless arrows. He was laboringunder violent paroxysms; three benevolent individuals essaying to holdhim. But repeatedly breaking loose, he burst anew into his delirium;while with an absence of sympathy, distressing to behold, the rest ofthe assembly seemed wholly engrossed with themselves; nor did theyappear to care how soon the unfortunate lunatic might demolish himselfby his frantic proceedings. Toward one side of the amphitheatrical space, perched high upon anelevated dais, sat a white-headed old man with a tomahawk in his hand:earnestly engaged in overseeing the tumult; though not a word did hesay. Occasionally, however, he was regarded by those present with amysterious sort of deference; and when they chanced to pass betweenhim and the crazy man, they invariably did so in a stooping position;probably to elude the atmospheric grape and cannister, continuallyflying from the mouth of the lunatic. "What mob is this?" cried Media. "'Tis the grand council of Vivenza, " cried a bystander. "Hear ye notAlanno?" and he pointed to the lunatic. Now coming close to Alanno, we found, that with incredible volubility, he was addressing the assembly upon some all-absorbing subjectconnected with King Bello, and his presumed encroachments toward thenorthwest of Vivenza. One hand smiting his hip, and the other his head, the lunatic thusproceeded; roaring like a wild beast, and beating the air like awindmill:-- "I have said it! the thunder is flashing, the lightning is crashing!already there's an earthquake in Dominora! Full soon will old Bellodiscover that his diabolical machinations against this ineffable landmust soon come to naught. Who dare not declare, that we are notinvincible? I repeat it, we are. Ha! ha! Audacious Bello must bite thedust! Hair by hair, we will trail his gory gray beard at the end ofour spears! Ha, ha! I grow hoarse; but would mine were a voice likethe wild bulls of Bullorom, that I might be heard from one end of thisgreat and gorgeous land to its farthest zenith; ay, to the uttermostdiameter of its circumference. Awake! oh Vivenza. The signs of thetimes are portentous; nay, extraordinary; I hesitate not to add, peculiar! Up! up! Let us not descend to the bathos, when we shouldsoar to the climax! Does not all Mardi wink and look on? Is the greatsun itself a frigid spectator? Then let us double up our mandibles tothe deadly encounter. Methinks I see it now. Old Bello is crafty, andhis oath is recorded to obliterate us! Across this wide lagoon hecasts his serpent eyes; whets his insatiate bill; mumbles hisbarbarous tusks; licks his forked tongues; and who knows when we shallhave the shark in our midst? Yet be not deceived; for though as yet, Bello has forborn molesting us openly, his emissaries are at work; hisinfernal sappers, and miners, and wet-nurses, and midwives, and grave-diggers are busy! His canoe-yards are all in commotion! In navies hisforests are being launched upon the wave; and ere long typhoons, zephyrs, white-squalls, balmy breezes, hurricanes, and besoms will beraging round us!" His philippic concluded, Alanno was conducted from the place; andbeing now quite exhausted, cold cobble-stones were applied to histemples, and he was treated to a bath in a stream. This chieftain, it seems, was from a distant western valley, calledHio-Hio, one of the largest and most fertile in Vivenza, though butrecently settled. Its inhabitants, and those of the vales adjoining, --a right sturdy set of fellows, --were accounted the most dogmaticallydemocratic and ultra of all the tribes in Vivenza; ever seeking topush on their brethren to the uttermost; and especially were theybitter against Bello. But they were a fine young tribe, nevertheless. Like strong new wine they worked violently in becoming clear. Time, perhaps, would make them all right. An interval of greater uproar than ever now ensued; during which, withhis tomahawk, the white-headed old man repeatedly thumped and poundedthe seat where he sat, apparently to augment the din, though he lookedanxious to suppress it. At last, tiring of his posture, he whispered in the ear of a chief, his friend; who, approaching a portly warrior present, prevailed uponhim to rise and address the assembly. And no sooner did this one doso, than the whole convocation dispersed, as if to their yams; andwith a grin, the little old man leaped from his seat, and stretchedhis legs on a mat. The fire was now extinguished, and the temple deserted. CHAPTER LVWherein Babbalanja Comments Upon The Speech Of Alanno As we lingered in the precincts of the temple after all others haddeparted, sundry comments were made upon what we had seen; and havingremarked the hostility of the lunatic orator toward Dominora, Babbalanja thus addressed Media:-- "My lord, I am constrained to believe, that all Vivenza can not be ofthe same mind with the grandiloquent chief from Hio-Hio. Nevertheless, I imagine, that between Dominora and this land, there exists at bottoma feeling akin to animosity, which is not yet wholly extinguished;though but the smoldering embers of a once raging fire. My lord, youmay call it poetry if you will, but there are nations in Mardi, thatto others stand in the relation of sons to sires. Thus with Dominoraand Vivenza. And though, its majority attained, Vivenza is now its ownmaster, yet should it not fail in a reverential respect for itsparent. In man or nation, old age is honorable; and a boy, howevertall, should never take his sire by the beard. And though Dominora didindeed ill merit Vivenza's esteem, yet by abstaining fromcriminations, Vivenza should ever merit its own. And if in time tocome, which Oro forbid, Vivenza must needs go to battle with KingBello, let Vivenza first cross the old veteran's spear with allpossible courtesy. On the other hand, my lord, King Bello should neverforget, that whatever be glorious in Vivenza, redounds to himself. Andas some gallant old lord proudly measures the brawn and stature of hisson; and joys to view in his noble young lineaments thelikeness of his own; bethinking him, that when at last laid in histomb, he will yet survive in the long, strong life of his child, theworthy inheritor of his valor and renown; even so, should King Belloregard the generous promise of this young Vivenza of his own lustybegetting. My lord, behold these two states! Of all nations in theArchipelago, they alone are one in blood. Dominora is the last andgreatest Anak of Old Times; Vivenza, the foremost and goodlieststripling of the Present. One is full of the past; the other brimswith the future. Ah! did this sire's old heart but beat to freethoughts, and back his bold son, all Mardi would go down before them. And high Oro may have ordained for them a career, little divined bythe mass. Methinks, that as Vivenza will never cause old Bello to weepfor his son; so, Vivenza will not, this many a long year, be called toweep over the grave of its sire. And though King Bello may yet layaside his old-fashioned cocked hat of a crown, and comply with theplain costume of the times; yet will his, frame remain sturdy as ofyore, and equally grace any habiliments he may don. And those who say, Dominora is old and worn out, may very possibly err. For if, as anation, Dominora be old--her present generation is full as young asthe youths in any land under the sun. Then, Ho! worthy twain! Eachworthy the other, join hands on the instant, and weld them together. Lo! the past is a prophet. Be the future, its prophecy fulfilled. " CHAPTER LVIA Scene In Tee Land Of Warwicks, Or King-Makers Wending our way from the temple, we were accompanied by a fluent, obstreperous wight, one Znobbi, a runaway native of Porpheero, but nowan enthusiastic inhabitant of Vivenza. "Here comes our great chief!" he cried. "Behold him! It was _I_ thathad a hand in making him what he is!" And so saying, he pointed out a personage, no way distinguished, except by the tattooing on his forehead--stars, thirty in number; andan uncommonly long spear in his hand. Freely he mingled with thecrowd. "Behold, how familiar I am with him!" cried Znobbi, approaching, andpitcher-wise taking him by the handle of his face. "Friend, " said the dignitary, "thy salute is peculiar, but welcome. Ireverence the enlightened people of this land. " "Mean-spirited hound!" muttered Media, "were I him, I had impaled thataudacious plebeian. " "There's a Head-Chief for you, now, my fine fellow!" cried Znobbi. "Hurrah! Three cheers! Ay, ay! All kings here--all equal. Everything's in common. " Here, a bystander, feeling something grazing his side, looked down;and perceived Znobbi's hand in clandestine vicinity to the pouch athis girdle-end. Whereupon the crowd shouted, "A thief! a thief!" And with a loud voicethe starred chief cried--"Seize him, people, and tie him to yonder tree. " And they seized, and tied him on the spot. "Ah, " said Media, "this chief has something to say, after all;he pinions a king at a word, though a plebeian takes him by the nose. Beshrew me, I doubt not, that spear of his, though without a tassel, is longer and sharper than mine. " "There's not so much freedom here as these freemen think, " saidBabbalanja, turning; "I laugh and admire. " CHAPTER LVIIThey Hearken Unto A Voice From The Gods Next day we retraced our voyage northward, to visit that section ofVivenza. In due time we landed. To look round was refreshing. Of all the lands we had seen, nonelooked more promising. The groves stood tall and green; the fieldsspread flush and broad; the dew of the first morning seemed hardlyvanished from the grass. On all sides was heard the fall of waters, the swarming of bees, and the rejoicing hum of a thriving population. "Ha, ha!" laughed Yoomy, "Labor laughs in this land; and claps hishands in the jubilee groves! methinks that Yillah will yet be found. " Generously entertained, we tarried in this land; till at length, fromover the Lagoon, came full tidings of the eruption we had witnessed inFranko, with many details. The conflagration had spread throughPorpheero and the kings were to and fro hunted, like malefactors byblood-hounds; all that part of Mardi was heaving with throes. With the utmost delight, these tidings were welcomed by many; yetothers heard them with boding concern. Those, too, there were, who rejoiced that the kings were cast down;but mourned that the people themselves stood not firmer. A victory, turned to no wise and enduring account, said they, is no victory atall. Some victories revert to the vanquished. But day by day great crowds ran down to the beach, in wait for canoesperiodically bringing further intelligence. Every hour new cries startled the air. "Hurrah! another, kingdom isburnt down to the earth's edge; another demigod is unhelmed; anotherrepublic is dawning. Shake hands, freemen, shake hands! Soon will wehear of Dominora down in the dust; of hapless Verdanna free asourselves; all Porpheero's volcanoes are bursting! Who may withstandthe people? The times tell terrible tales to tyrants! Ere we die, freemen, all Mardi will be free. " Overhearing these shouts, Babbalanja thus addressed Media:--"My lord, I can not but believe, that these men, are far more excited than thosewith whom they so ardently sympathize. But no wonder. The singledischarges which are heard in Porpheero; here come condensed in onetremendous report. Every arrival is a firing off of events by platoons. " Now, during this tumultuous interval, King Media very prudently kepthimself exceedingly quiet. He doffed his regalia; and in all thingscarried himself with a dignified discretion. And many hours heabsented himself; none knowing whither he went, or what his employment. So also with Babbalanja. But still pursuing our search, at last we alljourneyed into a great valley, whose inhabitants were more thancommonly inflated with the ardor of the times. Rambling on, we espied a clamorous crowd gathered about a conspicuouspalm, against which, a scroll was fixed. The people were violently agitated; storming out maledictions againstthe insolent knave, who, over night must have fixed there, thatscandalous document. But whoever he may have been, certain it was, hehad contrived to hood himself effectually. After much vehement discussion, during which sundry inflammatoryharangues were made from the stump's of trees near by, it wasproposed, that the scroll should be read aloud, so that all might giveear. Seizing it, a fiery youth mounted upon the bowed shoulders ofan old man, his sire; and with a shrill voice, ever and anoninterrupted by outcries, read as follows:-- "Sovereign-kings of Vivenza! it is fit you should hearken to wisdom. But well aware, that you give ear to little wisdom except of your own;and that as freemen, you are free to hunt down him who dissents fromyour majesties; I deem it proper to address you anonymously. "And if it please you, you may ascribe this voice to the gods: fornever will you trace it to man. "It is not unknown, sovereign-kings! that in these boisterous days, the lessons of history are almost discarded, as super seded by presentexperiences. And that while all Mardi's Present has grown out of itsPast, it is becoming obsolete to refer to what has been. Yet, peradventure, the Past is an apostle. "The grand error of this age, sovereign-kings! is the generalsupposition, that the very special Diabolus is abroad; whereas, thevery special Diabolus has been abroad ever since Mardi began. "And the grand error of your nation, sovereign-kings! seems this:--Theconceit that Mardi is now in the last scene of the last act of herdrama; and that all preceding events were ordained, to bring about thecatastrophe you believe to be at hand, --a universal and permanentRepublic. "May it please you, those who hold to these things are fools, and notwise. "Time is made up of various ages; and each thinks its own a novelty. But imbedded in the walls of the pyramids, which outrun allchronologies, sculptured stones are found, belonging to yet olderfabrics. And as in the mound-building period of yore, so every agethinks its erections will forever endure. But as your forests growapace, sovereign-kings! overrunning the tumuli in your western vales;so, while deriving their substance from the past, succeedinggenerations overgrow it; but in time, themselves decay. "Oro decrees these vicissitudes. "In chronicles of old, you read, sovereign kings! that an eagle fromthe clouds presaged royalty to the fugitive Taquinoo; and a king, Taquinoo reigned; No end to my dynasty, thought he. "But another omen descended, foreshadowing the fall of Zooperbi, hisson; and Zooperbi returning from his camp, found his country afortress against him. No more kings would she have. And for fivehundred twelve-moons the Regifugium or King's-flight, was annuallycelebrated like your own jubilee day. And rampant young oratorsstormed out detestation of kings; and augurs swore that their birdspresaged immortality to freedom. "Then, Romara's free eagles flew over all Mardi, and perched on thetopmost diadems of the east. "Ever thus must it be. "For, mostly, monarchs are as gemmed bridles upon the world, checkingthe plungings of a steed from the Pampas. And republics are as vastreservoirs, draining down all streams to one level; and so, breeding afullness which can not remain full, without overflowing. And thus, Romara flooded all Mardi, till scarce an Ararat was left of the loftykingdoms which had been. "Thus, also, did Franko, fifty twelve-moons ago. Thus may she doagain. And though not yet, have you, sovereign-kings! in any largedegree done likewise, it is because you overflow your redundancieswithin your own mighty borders; having a wild western waste, whichmany shepherds with their flocks could not overrun in a day. Yetoverrun at last it will be; and then, the recoil must come. "And, may it please you, that thus far your chronicles had narrated avery different story, had your population been pressed and packed, like that of your old sire-land Dominora. Then, your great experimentmight have proved an explosion; like the chemist's who, stirring hismixture, was blown by it into the air. "For though crossed, and recrossed by many brave quarterings, andboasting the great Bull in your pedigree; yet, sovereign-kings! youare not meditative philosophers like the people of a small republic ofold; nor enduring stoics, like their neighbors. Pent up, like them, may it please you, your thirteen original tribes had proved moreturbulent, than so many mutinous legions. Free horses need wideprairies; and fortunate for you, sovereign-kings! that you have roomenough, wherein to be free. "And, may it please you, you are free, partly, because you are young. Your nation is like a fine, florid youth, full of fiery impulses, andhard to restrain; his strong hand nobly championing his heart. On allsides, freely he gives, and still seeks to acquire. The breath of hisnostrils is like smoke in spring air; every tendon is electric withgenerous resolves. The oppressor he defies to his beard; the highwalls of old opinions he scales with a bound. In the future he seesall the domes of the East. "But years elapse, and this bold boy is transformed. His eyes open notas of yore; his heart is shut up as a vice. He yields not a groat; andseeking no more acquisitions, is only bent on preserving his hoard. The maxims once trampled under foot, are now printed on his front; andhe who hated oppressors, is become an oppressor himself. "Thus, often, with men; thus, often, with nations. Then marvel not, sovereign-kings! that old states are different from yours; and thinknot, your own must forever remain liberal as now. "Each age thinks its own is eternal. But though for five hundredtwelve-moons, all Romara, by courtesy of history, was republican; yet, at last, her terrible king-tigers came, and spotted themselves withgore. "And time was, when Dominora was republican, down to her sturdy back-bone. The son of an absolute monarch became the man Karolus; and hiscrown and head, both rolled in the dust. And Dominora had her patriotsby thousands; and lusty Defenses, and glorious Areopagiticaswere written, not since surpassed; and no turban was doffed save inhomage of Oro. "Yet, may it please you, to the sound of pipe and tabor, the secondKing Karolus returned in good time; and was hailed gracious majesty byhigh and low. "Throughout all eternity, the parts of the past are but parts of thefuture reversed. In the old foot-prints, up and down, you mortals go, eternally traveling your Sierras. And not more infallible theponderings of the Calculating Machine than the deductions from thedecimals of history. "In nations, sovereign-kings! there is a transmigration of souls; inyou, is a marvelous destiny. The eagle of Romara revives in your ownmountain bird, and once more is plumed for her flight. Her screams areanswered by the vauntful cries of a hawk; his red comb yet reekingwith slaughter. And one East, one West, those bold birds may fly, tillthey lock pinions in the midmost beyond. "But, soaring in the sky over the nations that shall gather theirbroods under their wings, that bloody hawk may hereafter be taken forthe eagle. "And though crimson republics may rise in constellations, like fieryAldebarans, speeding to their culminations; yet, down must they sinkat last, and leave the old sultan-sun in the sky; in time, again to bedeposed. "For little longer, may it please you, can republics subsist now, thanin days gone by. For, assuming that Mardi is wiser than of old;nevertheless, though all men approached sages in intelligence, somewould yet be more wise than others; and so, the old degrees bepreserved. And no exemption would an equality of knowledge furnish, from the inbred servility of mortal to mortal; from all the organiccauses, which inevitably divide mankind into brigades and battalions, with captains at their head. "Civilization has not ever been the brother of equality. Freedom wasborn among the wild eyries in the mountains; and barbaroustribes have sheltered under her wings, when the enlightened people ofthe plain have nestled under different pinions. "Though, thus far, for you, sovereign-kings! your republic has beenfruitful of blessings; yet, in themselves, monarchies are not utterlyevil. For many nations, they are better than republics; for many, theywill ever so remain. And better, on all hands, that peace should rulewith a scepter, than than the tribunes of the people should brandishtheir broadswords. Better be the subject of a king, upright and just;than a freeman in Franko, with the executioner's ax at every corner. "It is not the prime end, and chief blessing, to be politically free. And freedom is only good as a means; is no end in itself Nor, did manfight it out against his masters to the haft, not then, would heuncollar his neck from the yoke. A born thrall to the last, yelpingout his liberty, he still remains a slave unto Oro; and well is it forthe universe, that Oro's scepter is absolute. "World-old the saying, that it is easier to govern others, thanoneself. And that all men should govern themselves as nations, needsthat all men be better, and wiser, than the wisest of one-man rulers. But in no stable democracy do all men govern themselves. Though anarmy be all volunteers, martial law must prevail. Delegate your power, you leagued mortals must. The hazard you must stand. And though unlikeKing Bello of Dominora, your great chieftain, sovereign-kings! may notdeclare war of himself; nevertheless, has he done a still moreimperial thing:--gone to war without declaring intentions. Youyourselves were precipitated upon a neighboring nation, ere you knewyour spears were in your hands. "But, as in stars you have written it on the welkin, sovereign-kings!you are a great and glorious people. And verily, yours is the best andhappiest land under the sun. But not wholly, because you, in yourwisdom, decreed it: your origin and geography necessitated it. Nor, in their germ, are all your blessings to be ascribed to the noblesires, who of yore fought in your behalf, sovereign-kings! Your nationenjoyed no little independence before your Declaration declared it. Your ancient pilgrims fathered your liberty; and your wild woodsharbored the nursling. For the state that to-day is made up of slaves, can not to-morrow transmute her bond into free; though lawlessness maytransform them into brutes. Freedom is the name for a thing that is_not_ freedom; this, a lesson never learned in an hour or an age. Bysome tribes it will never be learned. "Yet, if it please you, there may be such a thing as being free underCaesar. Ages ago, there were as many vital freemen, as breathe vitalair to-day. "Names make not distinctions; some despots rule without swayingscepters. Though King Bello's palace was not put together by yokedmen; your federal temple of freedom, sovereign-kings! was thehandiwork of slaves. "It is not gildings, and gold maces, and crown jewels alone, that makea people servile. There is much bowing and cringing among youyourselves, sovereign-kings! Poverty is abased before riches, allMardi over; any where, it is hard to be a debtor; any where, the wisewill lord it over fools; every where, suffering is found. "Thus, freedom is more social than political. And its real felicity isnot to be shared. _That_ is of a man's own individual getting andholding. It is not, who rules the state, but who rules me. Better besecure under one king, than exposed to violence from twenty millionsof monarchs, though oneself be of the number. "But superstitious notions you harbor, sovereign kings! Did you visitDominora, you would not be marched straight into a dungeon. And thoughyou would behold sundry sights displeasing, you would start to inhalesuch liberal breezes; and hear crowds boasting of their privileges; asyou, of yours. Nor has the wine of Dominora, a monarchical flavor. "Now, though far and wide, to keep equal pace with the times, greatreforms, of a verity, be needed; nowhere are bloody revolutionsrequired. Though it be the most certain of remedies, no prudentinvalid opens his veins, to let out his disease with his life. Andthough all evils may be assuaged; all evils can not be done away. Forevil is the chronic malady of the universe; and checked in one place, breaks forth in another. "Of late, on this head, some wild dreams have departed. "There are many, who erewhile believed that the age of pikes andjavelins was passed; that after a heady and blustering youth, oldMardi was at last settling down into a serene old age; and that theIndian summer, first discovered in your land, sovereign kings! was thehazy vapor emitted from its tranquil pipe. But it has not so proved. Mardi's peaces are but truces. Long absent, at last the red cometshave returned. And return they must, though their periods be ages. Andshould Mardi endure till mountain melt into mountain, and all the islesform one table-land; yet, would it but expand the old battle-plain. "Students of history are horror-struck at the massacres of old; but inthe shambles, men are being murdered to-day. Could time be reversed, and the future change places with the past, the past would cry outagainst us, and our future, full as loudly, as we against the agesforegone. All the Ages are his children, calling each other names. "Hark ye, sovereign-kings! cheer not on the yelping pack toofuriously: Hunters have been torn by their hounds. Be advised; washyour hands. Hold aloof. Oro has poured out an ocean for an everlastingbarrier between you and the worst folly which other republics haveperpetrated. That barrier hold sacred. And swear never to cross overto Porpheero, by manifesto or army, unless you traverse dry land. "And be not too grasping, nearer home. It is not freedom to filch. Expand not your area too widely, now. Seek you proselytes?Neighboring nations may be free, without coming under your banner. Andif you can not lay your ambition, know this: that it is best served, by waiting events. "Time, but Time only, may enable you to cross the equator; and giveyou the Arctic Circles for your boundaries. " So read the anonymous scroll; which straightway, was torn into shreds. "Old tory, and monarchist!" they shouted, "Preaching over hisbenighted sermons in these enlightened times! Fool! does he not knowthat all the Past and its graves are being dug over?" They were furious; so wildly rolling their eyes after victims, thatwell was it for King Media, he wore not his crown; and in silence, wemoved unnoted from out the crowd. "My lord, I am amazed at the indiscretion of a demigod, " saidBabbalanja, as we passed on our way; "I recognized your sultanic stylethe very first sentence. This, then, is the result of your hours ofseclusion. " "Philosopher! I am astounded at your effrontery. I detected yourphilosophy the very first maxim. Who posted that parchment for you?" So, each charged the other with its authorship: and there was nofinding out, whether, indeed, either knew aught of its origin. Now, could it have been Babbalanja? Hardly. For, philosophic as thedocument was, it seemed too dogmatic and conservative for him. KingMedia? But though imperially absolute in his political sentiments, Media delivered not himself so boldly, when actually beholding theeruption in Franko. Indeed, the settlement of this question must be left to thecommentators on Mardi, some four or five hundred centuries hence. CHAPTER LVIIIThey Visit The Extreme South Of Vivenza We penetrated further and further into the valleys around; but, though, as elsewhere, at times we heard whisperings that promised anend to our wanderings;--we still wandered on; and once again, evenYoomy abated his sanguine hopes. And now, we prepared to embark for the extreme south of the land. But we were warned by the people, that in that portion of Vivenza, whither we were going, much would be seen repulsive to strangers. Suchthings, however, indulgent visitors overlooked. For themselves, theywere well aware of those evils. Northern Vivenza had done all it couldto assuage them; but in vain; the inhabitants of those southernvalleys were a fiery, and intractable race; heeding neitherexpostulations, nor entreaties. They were wedded to their ways. Nay, they swore, that if the northern tribes persisted in intermeddlings, they would dissolve the common alliance, and establish a distinctconfederacy among themselves. Our coasting voyage at an end, our keels grated the beach among manyprostrate palms, decaying, and washed by the billows. Though part andparcel of the shore we had left, this region seemed another land. Fewer thriving thingswere seen; fewer cheerful sounds were heard. "Here labor has lost his laugh!" cried Yoomy. It was a great plain where we landed; and there, under a burning sun, hundreds of collared men were toiling in trenches, filled withthe taro plant; a root most flourishing in that soil. Standing grimlyover these, were men unlike them; armed with long thongs, whichdescended upon the toilers, and made wounds. Blood and sweat mixed;and in great drops, fell. "Who eat these plants thus nourished?" cried Yoomy. "Are these men?"asked Babbalanja. "Which mean you?" said Mohi. Heeding him not, Babbalanja advanced toward the fore-most of thosewith the thongs, --one Nulli: a cadaverous, ghost-like man; with a lowridge of forehead; hair, steel-gray; and wondrous eyes;--bright, nimble, as the twin Corposant balls, playing about the ends of ships'royal-yards in gales. The sun passed under a cloud; and Nulli, darting at Babbalanja thosewondrous eyes, there fell upon him a baleful glare. "Have they souls?" he asked, pointing to the serfs. "No, " said Nulli, "their ancestors may have had; but their souls havebeen bred out of their descendants; as the instinct of scent is killedin pointers. " Approaching one of the serfs, Media took him by the hand, and felt ofit long; and looked into his eyes; and placed his ear to his side; andexclaimed, "Surely this being has flesh that is warm; he has Oro inhis eye; and a heart in him that beats. I swear he is a man. " "Is this our lord the king?" cried Mohi, starting. "What art thou, " said Babbalanja to the serf. "Dost ever feel in theea sense of right and wrong? Art ever glad or sad?--They tell us thouart not a man:--speak, then, for thyself; say, whether thou beliestthy Maker. " "Speak not of my Maker to me. Under the lash, I believe my masters, and account myself a brute; but in my dreams, bethink myself an angel. But I am bond; and my little ones;--their mother's milk is gall. " "Just Oro!" cried Yoomy, "do no thunders roll, --no lightnings flash inthis accursed land!" "Asylum for all Mardi's thralls!" cried Media. "Incendiaries!" cried he with the wondrous eyes, "come ye, firebrands, to light the flame of revolt? Know ye not, that here are many serfs, who, incited to obtain their liberty, might wreak some dreadfulvengeance? Avaunt, thou king! _thou_ horrified at this? Go back toOdo, and right her wrongs! These serfs are happier than thine; thoughthine, no collars wear; more happy as they are, than if free. Are theynot fed, clothed, and cared for? Thy serfs pine for food: never yetdid these; who have no thoughts, no cares. " "Thoughts and cares are life, and liberty, and immortality!" criedBabbalanja; "and are their souls, then, blown out as candles?" "Ranter! they are content, " cried Nulli. "They shed no tears. " "Frost never weeps, " said Babbalanja; "and tears are frozen in thosefrigid eyes. " "Oh fettered sons of fettered mothers, conceived and born inmanacles, " cried Yoomy; "dragging them through life; and falling withthem, clanking in the grave:--oh, beings as ourselves, how my stiffarm shivers to avenge you! 'Twere absolution for the matricide, tostrike one rivet from your chains. My heart outswells its home!" "Oro! Art thou?" cried Babbalanja; "and doth this thing exist? Itshakes my little faith. " Then, turning upon Null, "How can ye abide tosway this curs'd dominion?" "Peace, fanatic! Who else may till unwholesome fields, but these? Andas these beings are, so shall they remain; 'tis right and righteous!Maramma champions it!--I swear it! The first blow struck for them, dissolves the union of Vivenza's vales. The northern tribes well knowit; and know me. " Said Media, "Yet if--" "No more! another word, and, king as thou art, thou shalt bedungeoned:--here, there is such a law; thou art not among the northerntribes. " "And this is freedom!" murmured Media; "when heaven's own voice isthrottled. And were these serfs to rise, and fight for it; like dogs, they would be hunted down by her pretended sons!" "Pray, heaven!" cried Yoomy, "they may yet find a way to loose theirbonds without one drop of blood. But hear me, Oro! were there no otherway, and should their masters not relent, all honest hearts must cheerthis tribe of Hamo on; though they cut their chains with blades thriceedged, and gory to the haft! 'Tis right to fight for freedom, whoeverbe the thrall. " "These South savannahs may yet prove battle-fields, " said Mohi;gloomily, as we retraced our steps. "Be it, " said Yoomy. "Oro will van the right. " "Not always has it proved so, " said Babbalanja. "Oft-times, the rightfights single-handed against the world; and Oro champions none. In allthings, man's own battles, man himself must fight. Yoomy: so far asfeeling goes, your sympathies are not more hot than mine; but forthese serfs you would cross spears; yet, I would not. Better presentwoes for some, than future woes for all. " "No need to fight, " cried Yoomy, "to liberate that tribe of Hamoinstantly; a way may be found, and no irretrievable evil ensue. " "Point it out, and be blessed, Yoomy. " "That is for Vivenza; but the head is dull, where the heart is cold. " "My lord, " said Babbalanja, "you have startled us by your kinglysympathy for suffering; say thou, then, in what wise manner it shallbe relieved. " "That is for Vivenza, " said Media. "Mohi, you are old: speak thou. " "Let Vivenza speak, " said Mohi. "Thus then we all agree; and weeping all but echo hard-heartedNulli. Tears are not swords and wrongs seem almost natural as rights. For the righteous to suppress an evil, is sometimes harder than forothers to uphold it. Humanity cries out against this vast enormity:--not one man knows a prudent remedy. Blame not, then, the North; andwisely judge the South. Ere, as a nation, they became responsible, this thing was planted in their midst. Such roots strike deep. Placeto-day those serfs in Dominora; and with them, all Vivenza's Past;--and serfs, for many years, in Dominora, they would be. Easy is it tostand afar and rail. All men are censors who have lungs. We can say, the stars are wrongly marshaled. Blind men say the sun is blind. Athousand muscles wag our tongues; though our tongues were housed, thatthey might have a home. Whose is free from crime, let him crosshimself--but hold his cross upon his lips. That he is not bad, is notof him. Potters' clay and wax are all, molded by hands invisible. Thesoil decides the man. And, ere birth, man wills not to be born here orthere. These southern tribes have grown up with this thing; bond-womenwere their nurses, and bondmen serve them still. Nor are all theirserfs such wretches as those we saw. Some seem happy: yet not as men. Unmanned, they know not what they are. And though, of all the south, Nulli must stand almost alone in his insensate creed; yet, to allwrong-doers, custom backs the sense of wrong. And if to every Mardian, conscience be the awarder of its own doom; then, of these tribes, manyshall be found exempted from the least penalty of this sin. But sin itis, no less;--a blot, foul as the crater-pool of hell; it puts out thesun at noon; it parches all fertility; and, conscience or noconscience--ere he die--let every master who wrenches bond-babe frommother, that the nipple tear; unwreathes the arms of sisters; or cutsthe holy unity in twain; till apart fall man and wife, like onebleeding body cleft:--let that master thrice shrive his soul; takeevery sacrament; on his bended knees give up the ghost;--yetshall he die despairing; and live again, to die forever damned. Thefuture is all hieroglyphics. Who may read? But, methinks the greatlaggard Time must now march up apace, and somehow befriend thesethralls. It can not be, that misery is perpetually entailed; though, in a land proscribing primogeniture, the first-born and last of Hamo'stribe must still succeed to all their sires' wrongs. Yes. Time--all-healing Time--Time, great Philanthropist!--Time must befriend thesethralls!" "Oro grant it!" cried Yoomy "and let Mardi say, amen!" "Amen! amen! amen!" cried echoes echoing echoes. We traversed many of these southern vales; but as in Dominora, --so, throughout Vivenza, North and South, --Yillah harbored not. CHAPTER LIXThey Converse Of The Mollusca, Kings, Toad-Stools And Other Matters Once more embarking, we gained Vivenza's southwestern side and there, beheld vast swarms of laborers discharging from canoes, great loads ofearth; which they tossed upon the beach. "It is true, then, " said Media "that these freemen are engaged indigging down other lands, and adding them to their own, piece-meal. And this, they call extending their dominions agriculturally, andpeaceably. " "My lord, they pay a price for every canoe-load, " said Mohi. "Ay, old man, holding the spear in one hand, and striking the bargainwith the other. " "Yet charge it not upon all Vivenza, " said Babbalanja. "Some of hertribes are hostile to these things: and when their countryman fightfor land, are only warlike in opposing war. " "And therein, Babbalanja, is involved one of those anomalies in thecondition of Vivenza, " said Media, "which I can hardly comprehend. Howcomes it, that with so Many things to divide them, the valley-tribesstill keep their mystic league intact?" "All plain, it is because the model, whence they derive their union, is one of nature's planning. My lord, have you ever observed themysterious federation subsisting among the molluscs of the Tunicataorder, --in other words, a species of cuttle-fish, abounding at thebottom of the lagoon?" "Yes: in clear weather about the reefs, I have beheld them time andagain: but never with an eye to their political condition. " "Ah! my lord king, we should not cut off the nervous communicationbetween our eyes, and our cerebellums. " "What were you about to say concerning the Tunicata order of mollusca, sir philosopher?" "My very honorable lord, I hurry to conclude. They live in a compoundstructure; but though connected by membranous canals, freelycommunicating throughout the league--each member has a heart andstomach of its own; provides and digests its own dinners; and grinsand bears its own gripes, without imparting the same to its neighbors. But if a prowling shark touches one member, it ruffles all. Preciselythus now with Vivenza. In that confederacy, there are as manyconsciences as tribes; hence, if one member on its own behalf, assumesaught afterwards repudiated, the sin rests on itself alone; is notparticipated. " "A very subtle explanation, Babbalanja. You must allude, then, tothose recreant tribes; which, while in their own eyes presenting asublime moral spectacle to Mardi, --in King Bello's, do but present ahopeless example of bad debts. And these, the tribes that boast ofboundless wealth. " "Most true, my lord. But Bello errs, when for this thing, hestigmatizes all Vivenza, as a unity. " "Babbalanja, you yourself are made up of members:--then, if you besick of a lumbago, --'tis not _you_ that are unwell; but your spine. " "As you will, my lord. I have said. But to speak no more on that head--what sort of a sensation, think you, life is to such creatures asthose mollusca?" "Answer your own question, Babbalanja. " "I will; but first tell me what sort of a sensation life is to you, yourself, my lord. " "Pray answer that along with the other, Azzageddi. " "Directly; but tell me, if you will, my lord, what sort of a sensationlife is to a toad-stool. " "Pray, Babbalanja put all three questions together; and then, do whatyou have often done before, pronounce yourself a lunatic. " "My lord, I beseech you, remind me not of that fact so often. It istrue, but annoying. Nor will any wise man call another a fool. " "Do you take me for a mere man, then, Babbalanja, that you talk to methus?" "My demi-divine lord and master, I was deeply concerned at yourindisposition last night:--may a loving subject inquire, whether hisprince is completely recovered from the effect of those guavas?" "Have a care, Azzageddi; you are far too courteous, to be civil. Butproceed. " "I obey. In kings, mollusca, and toad-stools, life is one thing andthe same. The Philosopher Dumdi pronounces it a certain febralvibration of organic parts, operating upon the vis inertia ofunorganized matter. But Bardianna says nay. Hear him. 'Who puttogether this marvelous mechanism of mine; and wound it up, to go forthree score years and ten; when it runs out, and strikes Time's hoursno more? And what is it, that daily and hourly renews, and by amiracle, creates in me my flesh and my blood? What keeps up theperpetual telegraphic communication between my outpost toes anddigits, and that domed grandee up aloft, my brain?--It is not I; noryou; nor he; nor it. No; when I place my hand to that king muscle myheart, I am appalled. I feel the great God himself at work in me. Orois life. '" "And what is death?" demanded Media. "Death, my lord!--it is the deadest of all things. " CHAPTER LXWherein, That Gallant Gentleman And Demi-God, King Media, Scepter InHand, Throws Himself Into The Breach Sailing south from Vivenza, not far from its coast, we passed acluster of islets, green as new fledged grass; and like the mouths offloating cornucopias, their margins brimmed over upon the brine withflowers. On some, grew stately roses; on others stood twin-pillars;across others, tri-hued rainbows rested. Cried Babbalanja, pointing to the last, "Franko's pledge of peace!with that, she loudly vaunts she'll span the reef!--Strike out allhues but red, --and the token's nearer truth. " All these isles were prolific gardens; where King Bello, and thePrinces of Porpheero grew their most delicious fruits, --nectarines andgrapes. But, though hard by, Vivenza owned no garden here; yet longed andlusted; and her hottest tribes oft roundly swore, to root up all rosesthe half-reef over; pull down all pillars; and dissolve all rainbows. "Mardi's half is ours;" said they. Stand back invaders! Full ofvanity; and mirroring themselves in the future; they deemed allreflected there, their own. 'Twas now high noon. "Methinks the sun grows hot, " said Media, retreating deeper under thecanopy. "Ho! Vee-Vee; have you no cooling beverage? none of thatgolden wine distilled from torrid grapes, and then sent northward tobe cellared in an iceberg? That wine was placed among ourstores. Search, search the crypt, little Vee-Vee! Ha, I see it!--thatyellow gourd!--Come: drag it forth, my boy. Let's have the amber cups:so: pass them round;--fill all! Taji! my demi-god, up heart! Old Mohi, my babe, may you live ten thousand centuries! Ah! this way you mortalshave of dying out at three score years and ten, is but a craven habit. So, Babbalanja! may you never die. Yoomy! my sweet poet, may you liveto sing to me in Paradise. Ha, ha! would that we floated in thisglorious stuff, instead of this pestilent brine. --Hark ye! were I tomake a Mardi now, I'd have every continent a huge haunch of venison;every ocean a wine-vat! I'd stock every cavern with choice oldspirits, and make three surplus suns to ripen the grapes all the yearround. Let's drink to that!--Brimmers! So: may the next Mardi that'smade, be one entire grape; and mine the squeezing!" "Look, look! my lord, " cried Yoomy, "what a glorious shore we pass. " Sallying out into the high golden noon, with golden-beaming gobletssuspended, we gazed. "This must be Kolumbo of the south, " said Mohi. It was a long, hazy reach of land; piled up in terraces, traced hereand there with rushing streams, that worked up gold dust alluvian, andseemed to flash over pebbled diamonds. Heliotropes, sun-flowers, marigolds gemmed, or starred the violet meads, and vassal-like, stillsunward bowed their heads. The rocks were pierced with grottoes, blazing with crystals, many-tinted. It was a land of mints and mines; its east a ruby; west a topaz. Inland, the woodlands stretched an ocean, bottomless with foliage; itsgreen surges bursting through cable-vines; like Xerxes' brittle chainswhich vainly sought to bind the Hellespont. Hence flowed a tide offorest sounds; of parrots, paroquets, macaws; blent with the howl ofjaguars, hissing of anacondas, chattering of apes, and heronsscreaming. Out from those depths up rose a stream. The land lay basking in the world's round torrid brisket, hot withsolar fire. "No need here to land, " cried Yoomy, "Yillah lurks not here. " "Heat breeds life, and sloth, and rage, " said Babbalanja. "Here livebastard tribes and mongrel nations; wrangling and murdering to provetheir freedom. --Refill, my lord. " "Methinks, Babbalanja, you savor of the mysterious parchment, inVivenza read:--Ha? Yes, philosopher, these are the men, who toppledcastles to make way for hovels; these, they who fought for freedom, but find it despotism to rule themselves. These, Babbalanja, are ofthe race, to whom a tyrant would prove a blessing. " So saying hedrained his cup. "My lord, that last sentiment decides the authorship of the scroll. But, with deference, tyrants seldom can prove blessings; inasmuch asevil seldom eventuates in good. Yet will these people soon have atyrant over them, if long they cleave to war. Of many javelins, onemust prove a scepter; of many helmets, one a crown. It is but in thewearing. --Refill, my lord. " "Fools, fools!" cried Media, "these tribes hate us kings; yet knownot, that Peace is War against all kings. We seldom are undone byspears, which are our ministers. --This wine is strong. " "Ha, now's the time! In his cups learn king-craft from a king. Ay, ay, my lord, your royal order will endure, so long as men will fight. Break the spears, and free the nations. Kings reap the harvests thatwave on battle-fields. And oft you kings do snatch the aloe-flower, whose slow blossoming mankind watches for a hundred years. --Say on, mylord. " "All this I know; and, therefore, rest content. My children's childrenwill be kings; though, haply, called by other titles. Mardi growsfastidious in names: we royalties will humor it. The steerswould burst their yokes, but have not hands. The whole herd rears andplunges, but soon will bow again: the old, old way!" "Yet, in Porpheero, strong scepters have been wrested from anointedhands. Mankind seems in arms. " "Let them arm on. They hate us:--good;--they always have; yet stillwe've reigned, son after sire. Sometimes they slay us, Babbalanja;pour out our marrow, as I this wine; but they spill no kinless blood. 'Twas justly held of old, that but to touch a monarch, was to strikeat Oro. --Truth. The palest vengeance is a royal ghost; and regicidesbut father slaves. Thrones, not scepters, have been broken. Mohi, whatof the past? Has it not ever proved so?" "Pardon, my lord; the times seem changed. 'Tis held, that demi-gods nomore rule by right divine. In Vivenza's land, they swear the lastkings now reign in Mardi. " "Is the last day at hand, old man? Mohi, your beard is gray; but, Yoomy, listen. When you die, look around; mark then if any mightychange be seen. Old kingdoms may be on the wane; but new dynastiesadvance. Though revolutions rise to high spring-tide, monarchs willstill drown hard;--monarchs survived the flood!" "Are all our dreams, then, vain?" sighed Yoomy. "Is this no dawn ofday that streaks the crimson East! Naught but the false and flickeringlights which sometimes mock Aurora in the north! Ah, man, my brother!have all martyrs for thee bled in vain; in vain we poets sang, andprophets spoken? Nay, nay; great Mardi, helmed and mailed, strikes atOppression's shield, and challenges to battle! Oro will defend theright, and royal crests must roll. " "Thus, Yoomy, ages since, you mortal poets sang; but the world may notbe moved from out the orbit in which first it rolled. On the map thatcharts the spheres, Mardi is marked 'the world of kings. ' Roundcenturies on centuries have wheeled by:--has all this been itsnonage? Now, when the rocks grow gray, does man first sprout hisbeard? Or, is your golden time, your equinoctial year, at hand, thatyour race fast presses toward perfection; and every hand grasps at ascepter, that kings may be no more?" "But free Vivenza! Is she not the star, that must, ere long, lead upthe constellations, though now unrisen? No kings are in Vivenza; yet, spite her thralls, in that land seems more of good than elsewhere. Ourhopes are not wild dreams: Vivenza cheers our hearts. She is a rainbowto the isles!" "Ay, truth it is, that in Vivenza they have prospered. But thence itcomes not, that all men may be as they. Are all men of one heart andbrain; one bone and sinew? Are all nations sprung of Dominora's loins?Or, has Vivenza yet proved her creed? Yoomy! the years that prove aman, prove not a nation. But two kings'-reigns have passed sinceVivenza was a monarch's. Her climacteric is not come; hers is not yeta nation's manhood even; though now in childhood, she anticipates heryouth, and lusts for empire like any czar. Yoomy! judge not yet. Timehath tales to tell. Many books, and many long, long chapters, arewanting to Vivenza's history; and whet history but is full of blood?" "There stop, my lord, " said Babbalanja, "nor aught predict. Fatelaughs at prophets; and of all birds, the raven is a liar!" CHAPTER LXIThey Round The Stormy Cape Of Capes Long leagues, for weary days, we voyaged along that coast, till wecame to regions where we multiplied our mantles. The sky grew overcast. Each a night, black storm-clouds swept thewintry sea; and like Sahara caravans, which leave their sandy wakes--so, thick and fleet, slanted the scud behind. Through all this rackand mist, ten thousand foam-flaked dromedary-humps uprose. Deep among those panting, moaning fugitives, the three canoes raced on. And now, the air grew nipping cold. The clouds shed off their fleeces;a snow-hillock, each canoe; our beards, white-frosted. And so, as seated in our shrouds, we sailed in among great mountainpasses of ice-isles; from icy ledges scaring shivering seals, andwhite bears, musical with icicles, jingling from their shaggy ermine. Far and near, in towering ridges, stretched the glassy Andes; withtheir own frost, shuddering through all their domes and pinnacles. Ice-splinters rattled down the cliffs, and seethed into the sea. Broad away, in amphitheaters undermined by currents, whole cities ofice-towers, in crashes, toward one center, fell. --In theirearthquakes, Lisbon and Lima never saw the like. Churned and broken inthe boiling tide, they swept off amain;--over and over rolling; likeporpoises to vessels tranced in calms, bringing down the gale. At last, rounding an antlered headland, that seemed a moose atbay--ere long, we launched upon blue lake-like waters, serene asWindermere, or Horicon. Thus, from the boisterous storms of youth, weglide upon senility. But as we northward voyaged, another aspect wore the sea. In far-off, endless vistas, colonnades of water-spouts were seen: allheaven's dome upholding on their shafts: and bright forms gliding upand down within. So at Luz, in his strange vision, Jacob saw the angels. A boundless cave of stalactites, it seemed; the cloud-born vaporsdownward spiraling, till they met the whirlpool-column from the sea;then, uniting, over the waters stalked, like ghosts of gods. Or midwaysundered--down, sullen, sunk the watery half; and far up into heaven, was drawn the vapory. As, at death, we mortals part in twain; ourearthy half still here abiding; but our spirits flying whence they came. In good time, we gained the thither side of great Kolumbo of the South;and sailing on, long waited for the day; and wondered at the darkness. "What steadfast clouds!" cried Yoomy, "yonder! far aloft: that ridge, with many points; it fades below, but shows a faint white crest. " "Not clouds, but mountains, " said Babbalanja, "the vast spine, thattraverses Kolumbo; spurring off in ribs, that nestle loamy valleys, veined with silver streams, and silver ores. " It was a long, embattled line of pinnacles. And high posted in theEast, those thousand bucklered peaks stood forth, and breasted backthe Dawn. Before their purple bastions bold, Aurora long arrayed herspears, and clashed her golden shells. The summons dies away. But now, her lancers charge the steep, and gain its crest a-glow;--theirglittering spears and blazoned shields triumphant in the morn. But ere that sight, we glided on for hours in twilight; when, on thosemountains' farther side, the hunters must have been abroad, morning-glories all astir. CHAPTER LXIIThey Encounter Gold-Hunters Now, northward coasting along Kolumbo's Western shore, whence came thesame wild forest-sounds, as from the Eastern; and where we landed not, to seek among those wrangling tribes;--after many, many days, we spiedprow after prow, before the wind all northward bound: sails wide-spread, and paddles plying: scaring the fish from before them. Their inmates answered not our earnest hail. But as they sped, with frantic glee, in one long chorus thus theysang:-- We rovers bold, To the land of Gold, Over bowling billows are gliding: Eager to toil, For the golden spoil, And every hardship biding. See! See! Before our prows' resistless dashes, The gold-fish fly in golden flashes! 'Neath a sun of gold, We rovers bold, On the golden land are gaining; And every night, We steer aright, By golden stars unwaning! All fires burn a golden glare: No locks so bright as golden hair! All orange groves have golden gushings: All mornings dawn with golden flushings! In a shower of gold, say fables old, A maiden was won by the god of gold! In golden goblets wine is beaming: On golden couches kings are dreaming! The Golden Rule dries many tears! The Golden Number rules the spheres! Gold, gold it is, that sways the nations: Gold! gold! the center of all rotations! On golden axles worlds are turning: With phosphorescence seas are burning! All fire-flies flame with golden gleamings: Gold-hunters' hearts with golden dreamings! With golden arrows kings are slain: With gold we'll buy a freeman's name! In toilsome trades, for scanty earnings, At home we've slaved, with stifled yearnings: No light! no hope! Oh, heavy woe! When nights fled fast, and days dragged slow. But joyful now, with eager eye, Fast to the Promised Land we fly: Where in deep mines, The treasure shines; Or down in beds of golden streams, The gold-flakes glance in golden gleams! How we long to sift, That yellow drift! Rivers! Rivers! cease your going! Sand-bars! rise, and stay the tide! 'Till we've gained the golden flowing; And in the golden haven ride! "Quick, quick, my lord, " cried Yoomy, "let us follow them; and fromthe golden waters where she lies, our Yillah may emerge. " "No, no, " said Babbalanja, --"no Yillah there!--from yonder promised-land, fewer seekers will return, than go. Under a gilded guise, happiness is still their instinctive aim. But vain, Yoomy, to snatchat Happiness. Of that we may not pluck and eat. It is the fruit of ourown toilsome planting; slow it grows, nourished by many teats, and allour earnest tendings. Yet ere it ripen, frosts may nip;--and then, weplant again; and yet again. Deep, Yoomy, deep, true treasure lies;deeper than all Mardi's gold, rooted to Mardi's axis. But unlike gold, it lurks in every soil, --all Mardi over. With golden pills andpotions is sickness warded off?--the shrunken veins of age, dilatedwith new wine of youth? Will gold the heart-ache cure? turn toward ushearts estranged? will gold, on solid centers empires fix? 'Tis toilworld-wasted to toil in mines. Were all the isles gold globes, set ina quicksilver sea, all Mardi were then a desert. Gold is the onlypoverty; of all glittering ills the direst. And that man might notimpoverish himself thereby, Oro hath hidden it, with all otherbanes, --saltpeter and explosives, deep in mountain bowels, and river-beds. But man still will mine for it; and mining, dig his doom. --Yoomy, Yoomy!--she we seek, lurks not in the Golden Hills!" "Lo, a vision!" cried Yoomy, his hands wildly passed across his eyes. "A vast and silent bay, belted by silent villages:--gaunt dogs howlingover grassy thresholds at stark corpses of old age and infancy; grayhairs mingling with sweet flaxen curls; fields, with turned furrows, choked with briers; arbor-floors strown over with hatchet-helves, rotting in the iron; a thousand paths, marked with foot-prints, allinland leading, none villageward; and strown with traces, as of aflying host. On: over forest--hill, and dale--and lo! the goldenregion! After the glittering spoil, by strange river-margins, andbeneath impending cliffs, thousands delve in quicksands; and, sudden, sink in graves of their own making: with gold dust mingling their ownashes. Still deeper, in more solid ground, other thousands slave; andpile their earth so high, they gasp for air, and die; their comradesmounting on them, and delving still, and dying--grave pile on grave!Here, one haggard hunter murders another in his pit; and murdering, himself is murdered by a third. Shrieks and groans! cries and curses!It seems a golden Hell! With many camels, a sleek stranger comes--pauses before the shining heaps, and shows _his_ treasures: yams andbread-fruit. 'Give, give, ' the famished hunters cry--, 'a thousandshekels for a yam!--a prince's ransom for a meal!--Oh, stranger! on our knees we worship thee:--take, take our gold; but letus live!' Yams are thrown them and they fight. Then he who toiled not, dug not, slaved not, straight loads his caravans with gold; regainsthe beach, and swift embarks for home. 'Home! home!' the hunters cry, with bursting eyes. 'With this bright gold, could we but join ourwaiting wives, who wring their hands on distant shores, all then werewell. But we can not fly; our prows lie rotting on the beach. Ah!home! thou only happiness!--better thy silver earnings than all thesegolden findings. Oh, bitter end to all our hopes--we die in goldengraves. " CHAPTER LXIIIThey Seek Through The Isles Of Palms; And Pass The Isles Of Myrrh Now, our prows we turned due west, across the blue lagoon. Soon, no land appeared. Far as the eye could sweep, one azure plain;all over flaked with foamy fleeces:--a boundless flock upon aboundless mead! Again, all changed. Like stars in multitude, bright islets multipliedaround. Emerald-green, they dotted shapes fantastic: circles, arcs, and crescents;--atolls all, or coral carcanets, begemmed and flashingin the sun. By these we glided, group after group; and through the foliage, spiedsweet forms of maidens, like Eves in Edens ere the Fall, orProserpines in Ennas. Artless airs came from the shore; and from thecenser-swinging roses, a bloom, as if from Hebe's cheek. "Here, at last, we find sweet Yillah!" murmured Yoomy. "Here must shelurk in innocence! Quick! Let us land and search. " "If here, " said Babbalanja, "Yillah will not stay our coming, but flybefore us through the groves. Wherever a canoe is beached, see you notthe palm-trees pine? Not so, where never keel yet smote the strand. Inmercy, let us fly from hence. I know not why, but our breath here, must prove a blight. " These regions passed, we came to savage islands, where the glitteringcoral seemed bones imbedded, bleaching in the sun. Savage men stoodnaked on the strand, and brandished uncouth clubs, and gnashed theirteeth like boars. The full red moon was rising; and, in long review there passed beforeit, phantom shapes of victims, led bound to altars through the groves. Death-rattles filled the air. But a cloud descended, and all was gloom. Again blank water spread before us; and after many days, there came agentle breeze, fraught with all spicy breathings; cinnamon aromas; andin the rose-flushed evening air, like glow worms, glowed the islets, where this incense burned. "Sweet isles of myrh! oh crimson groves, " cried Yoomy. "Woe, woe'syour fate! your brightness and your bloom, like musky fire-flies, double-lure to death! On ye, the nations prey like bears that gorgethemselves with honey. " Swan-like, our prows sailed in among these isles; and oft we landed;but in vain; and leaving them, we still pursued the setting sun. CHAPTER LXIVConcentric, Inward, With Mardi's Reef, They Leave Their Wake AroundThe World West, West! West, West! Whitherward point Hope and prophet-fingers;whitherward, at sun-set, kneel all worshipers of fire; whitherward inmid-ocean, the great whales turn to die; whitherward face all theMoslem dead in Persia; whitherward lie Heaven and Hell!--West, West!Whitherward mankind and empires--flocks, caravans, armies, navies;worlds, suns, and stars all wend!--West, West!--Oh boundless boundary!Eternal goal! Whitherward rush, in thousand worlds, ten thousandthousand keels! Beacon, by which the universe is steered!--Like thenorth-star, attracting all needles! Unattainable forever; but foreverleading to great things this side thyself!--Hive of all sunsets!--Gabriel's pinions may not overtake thee! Over balmy waves, still westward sailing! From dawn till eve, thebright, bright days sped on, chased by the gloomy nights; and, inglory dying, lent their luster to the starry skies. So, long theradiant dolphins fly before the sable sharks but seized, and torn inflames--die, burning:--their last splendor left, in sparkling scalesthat float along the sea. Cymbals, drums and psalteries! the air beats like a pulse with music!--High land! high land! and moving lights, and painted lanterns!--Whatgrand shore is this? "Reverence we render thee, Old Orienda!" cried Media, with bared brow, "Original of all empires and emperors!--a crowned king salutes thee!" "Mardi's father-land!" cried Mohi, "grandsire of the nations, --hail!" "All hail!" cried Yoomy. "Kings and sages hither coming, should comelike palmers, --scrip and staff! Oh Orienda! thou wert our East, wherefirst dawned song and science, with Mardi's primal mornings! But now, how changed! the dawn of light become a darkness, which we kindle withthe gleam of spears! On the world's ancestral hearth, we spill ourbrothers' blood!" "Herein, " said Babbalanja, "have many distant tribes provedparricidal. In times gone by, Luzianna hither sent her prom; Franko, her scores of captains; and the Dykemen, their peddler hosts, withyard-stick spears! But thou, oh Bello! lord of the empire lineage!Noah of the moderns. Sire of the long line of nations yet in germ!--thou, Bello, and thy locust armies, are the present curse of Orienda. Down ancient streams, from holy plains, in rafts thy murdered float!The pestilence that thins thy armies here, is bred of corpses, made bythee. Maramma's priests, thy pious heralds, loud proclaim that of allpagans, Orienda's most resist the truth!--ay! vain all pious voices, that speak from clouds of war! The march of conquest through wildprovinces, may be the march of Mind; but not the march of Love. " "Thou, Bello!" cried Yoomy, "would'st wrest the crook from Alma'shand, and place in it a spear. But vain to make a conqueror of him, who put off the purple when he came to Mardi; and declining gildedmiters, entered the nations meekly on an ass. " "Oh curse of commerce!" cried Babbalanja, "that it barters souls forgold. Bello! with opium, thou wouldst drug this land, and murder it insleep!--And what boot thy conquests here? Seed sown by spears butseldom springs; and harvests reaped thereby, are poisoned by thesickle's edge. " Yet on, and on we coasted; counting not the days. "Oh, folds and flocks of nations! dusky tribes innumerable!" criedYoomy, "camped on plains and steppes; on thousand mountains, worshiping the stars; in thousand valleys, offering up first-fruits, till all the forests seem in flames;--where, in fire, the widow'sspirit mounts to meet her lord!--Oh, Orienda, in thee 'tis vain toseek our Yillah!" "How dark as death the night!" said Mohi, shaking the dew from hisbraids, "the Heavens blaze not here with stars, as over Dominora'sland, and broad Vivenza. " One only constellation was beheld; but every star was brilliant as theone, that promises the morning. That constellation was the Crux-Australis, --the badge, and type of Alma. And now, southwest we steered, till another island vast, was reached;--Hamora! far trending toward the Antarctic Pole. Coasting on by barbarous beaches, where painted men, with spears, charged on all attempts to land, at length we rounded a mighty bluff, lit by a beacon; and heard a bugle call:--Bello's! hurrying to theirquarters, the World-End's garrison. Here, the sea rolled high, in mountain surges: mid which, we toiledand strained, as if ascending cliffs of Caucasus. But not long thus. As when from howling Rhoetian heights, the travelerspies green Lombardy below, and downward rushes toward that pleasantplain; so, sloping from long rolling swells, at last we launched uponthe calm lagoon. But as we northward sailed, once more the storm-trump blew, andcharger-like, the seas ran mustering to the call; and in battalionscrouched before a towering rock, far distant from the main. No moon, eclipsed in Egypt's skies, looked half so lone. But from out thatdarkness, on the loftiest peak, Bello's standard waved. "Oh rifled tomb!" cried Babbalanja. "Wherein lay the Mars andMoloch of our times, whose constellated crown, was gemmed withdiadems. Thou god of war! who didst seem the devouring Beast of theApocalypse; casting so vast a shadow over Mardi, that yet it lingersin old Franko's vale; where still they start at thy tremendous ghost;and, late, have hailed a phantom, King! Almighty hero-spell! thatafter the lapse of half a century, can so bewitch all hearts! But onedrop of hero-blood will deify a fool. "Franko! thou wouldst be free; yet thy free homage is to the buriedashes of a King; thy first choice, the exaltation of his race. Infurious fires, thou burn'st Ludwig's throne; and over thy new-madechieftain's portal, in golden letters print'st--'The Palace of ourLord!' In thy New Dispensation, thou cleavest to the exploded Law. Andon Freedom's altar--ah, I fear--still, may slay thy hecatombs. ButFreedom turns away; she is sick with burnt blood of offerings. Otherrituals she loves; and like Oro, unseen herself, would be worshipedonly by invisibles. Of long drawn cavalcades, pompous processions, frenzied banners, mystic music, marching nations, she will none. Oh, may thy peaceful Future, Franko, sanctify thy bloody Past. Let nothistory say; 'To her old gods, she turned again. '" This rocky islet passed, the sea went down; once more we nearedHamora's western shore. In the deep darkness, here and there, itsmargin was lit up by foam-white, breaking billows rolled over fromVivenza's strand, and down from northward Dominora; marking placeswhere light was breaking in, upon the interior's jungle-gloom. In heavy sighs, the night-winds from shore came over us. "Ah, vain to seek sweet Yillah here, " cried Yoomy. --"Poor land! curstof man, not Oro! how thou faintest for thy children, torn from thysoil, to till a stranger's. Vivenza! did these winds not spend theirplaints, ere reaching thee, thy every vale would echo them. Oh, tribeof Hamo! thy cup of woe so brims, that soon it must overflow upon theland which holds ye thralls. No misery born of crime, butspreads and poisons wide. Suffering hunteth sin, as the gaunt houndthe hare, and tears it in the greenest brakes. " Still on we sailed: and after many tranquil days and nights, a stormcame down, and burst its thousand bombs. The lightnings forked andflashed; the waters boiled; our three prows lifted themselves insupplication; but the billows smote them as they reared. Said Babbalanja, bowing to the blast: "Thus, oh Vivenza! retributionworks! Though long delayed, it comes at last--Judgment, with all herbolts. " Now, a current seized us, and like three darts, our keels spedeastward, through a narrow strait, far in, upon a smooth expanse, aninland ocean, without a throb. On our left, Porpheero's southwest point, a mighty rock, long tiers ofgalleries within, deck on deck; and flag-staffs, like an admiral'smasts: a line-of-battle-ship, all purple stone, and anchored in thesea. Here Bello's lion crouched; and, through a thousand port-holes, eyed the world. On our right, Hamora's northern shore gleamed thick with crescents;numerous as the crosses along the opposing strand. "How vain to say, that progress is the test of truth, my lord, " saidBabbalanja, "when, after many centuries, those crescents yet unwaningshine, and count a devotee for every worshiper of yonder crosses. Truth and Merit have other symbols than success; and in this mortalrace, all competitors may enter; and the field is clear for all. Sideby side, Lies run with Truths, and fools with wise; but, likegeometric lines, though they pierce infinity, never may they join. " Over that tideless sea we sailed; and landed right, and landed left;but the maiden never found; till, at last, we gained the water'slimit; and inland saw great pointed masses, crowned with halos. "Granite continents, " cried Babbalanja, "that seem created like theplanets, not built with human hands. Lo, Landmarks! upon whose flanksTime leaves its traces, like old tide-rips of diluvian seas. " As, after wandering round and round some purple dell, deep in aboundless prairie's heart, the baffled hunter plunges in; then, despairing, turns once more to gain the open plain; even so we seekersnow curved round our keels; and from that inland sea emerged. Theuniverse again before us; our quest, as wide. CHAPTER LXVSailing On Morning dawned upon the same mild, blue Lagoon as erst; and all thelands that we had passed, since leaving Piko's shore of spears, werefaded from the sight. Part and parcel of the Mardian isles, they formed a cluster bythemselves; like the Pleiades, that shine in Taurus, and are eclipsedby the red splendor of his fiery eye, and the thick clusterings of theconstellations round. And as in Orion, to some old king-astronomer, --say, King of Rigel, orBetelguese, --this Earth's four quarters show but four points afar; so, seem they to terrestrial eyes, that broadly sweep the spheres. And, as the sun, by influence divine, wheels through the Ecliptic;threading Cancer, Leo, Pisces, and Aquarius; so, by some mysticimpulse am I moved, to this fleet progress, through the groups inwhite-reefed Mardi's zone. Oh, reader, list! I've chartless voyaged. With compass and the lead, we had not found these Mardian Isles. Those who boldly launch, castoff all cables; and turning from the common breeze, that's fair forall, with their own breath, fill their own sails. Hug the shore, naught new is seen; and "Land ho!" at last was sung, when a new worldwas sought. That voyager steered his bark through seas, untracked before; ploughedhis own path mid jeers; though with a heart that oft was heavy withthe thought, that he might only be too bold, and grope where land wasnone. So I. And though essaying but a sportive sail, I was driven from my course, by a blast resistless; and ill-provided, young, and bowed to the bruntof things before my prime, still fly before the gale;--hard have Istriven to keep stout heart. And if it harder be, than e'er before, to find new climes, when nowour seas have oft been circled by ten thousand prows, --much more theglory! But this new world here sought, is stranger far than his, whostretched his vans from Palos. It is the world of mind; wherein thewanderer may gaze round, with more of wonder than Balboa's band rovingthrough the golden Aztec glades. But fiery yearnings their own phantom-future make, and deem itpresent. So, if after all these fearful, fainting trances, the verdictbe, the golden haven was not gained;--yet, in bold quest thereof, better to sink in boundless deeps, than float on vulgar shoals; andgive me, ye gods, an utter wreck, if wreck I do. CHAPTER LXVIA Flight Of Nightingales From Yoomy's Mouth By noon, down came a calm. "Oh Neeva! good Neeva! kind Neeva! thy sweet breath, dear Neeva!" So from his shark's-mouth prayed little Vee-Vee to the god of FairBreezes. And along they swept; till the three prows neighed to theblast; and pranced on their path, like steeds of Crusaders. Now, that this fine wind had sprung up; the sun riding joyously in theheavens; and the Lagoon all tossed with white, flying manes; Mediacalled upon Yoomy to ransack his whole assortment of songs:--warlike, amorous, and sentimental, --and regale us with something inspiring fortoo long the company had been gloomy. "Thy best, ", he cried. Then will I e'en sing you a song, my lord, which is a song-full ofsongs. I composed it long, long since, when Yillah yet bowered in Odo. Ere now, some fragments have been heard. Ah, Taji! in this my lay, live over again your happy hours. Some joys have thousand lives; cannever die; for when they droop, sweet memories bind them up. --My lord, I deem these verses good; they came bubbling out of me, like livewaters from a spring in a silver mine. And by your good leave, mylord, I have much faith in inspiration. Whoso sings is a seer. " "Tingling is the test, " said Babbalanja, "Yoomy, did you tingle, whenthat song was composing?" "All over, Babbalanja. " "From sole to crown?" "From finger to finger. " "My life for it! true poetry, then, my lord! For this self-sametingling, I say, is the test. " "And infused into a song, " cried Yoomy, "it evermore causes it so tosparkle, vivify, and irradiate, that no son of man can repeat itwithout tingling himself. This very song of mine may prove what Isay. " "Modest youth!" sighed Media. "Not more so, than sincere, " said Babbalanja. "He who is frank, willoften appear vain, my lord. Having no guile, he speaks as freely ofhimself, as of another; and is just as ready to honor his own merits, even if imaginary, as to lament over undeniable deficiencies. Besides, such men are prone to moods, which to shallow-minded, unsympathizingmortals, make their occasional distrust of themselves, appear but as aphase of self-conceit. Whereas, the man who, in the presence of hisvery friends, parades a barred and bolted front, --that man so highlyprizes his sweet self, that he cares not to profane the shrine heworships, by throwing open its portals. He is locked up; and Ego isthe key. Reserve alone is vanity. But all mankind are egotists. Theworld revolves upon an I; and we upon ourselves; for we are our ownworlds:--all other men as strangers, from outlandish, distant climes, going clad in furs. Then, whate'er they be, let us show our worlds;and not seek to hide from men, what Oro knows. " "Truth, my lord, " said Yoomy, "but all this applies to men in mass;not specially, to my poor craft. Of all mortals, we poets are mostsubject to contrary moods. Now, heaven over heaven in the skies; nowlayer under layer in the dust. This, the penalty we pay for being whatwe are. But Mardi only sees, or thinks it sees, the tokens of ourself-complacency: whereas, all our agonies operate unseen. Poets areonly seen when they soar. " "The song! the song!" cried Media. "Never mind the metaphysics ofgenius. " And Yoomy, thus clamorously invoked, hemmed thrice, tuning his voicefor the air. But here, be it said, that the minstrel was miraculously gifted withthree voices; and, upon occasions, like a mocking-bird, was a concertof sweet sounds in himself. Had kind friends died, and bequeathed himtheir voices? But hark! in a low, mild tenor, he begins:-- Half-railed above the hills, yet rosy bright, Stands fresh, and fair, the meek and blushing morn! So Yillah looks! her pensive eyes the stars, That mildly beam from out her cheek's young dawn! But the still meek Dawn, Is not aye the form Of Yillah nor Morn! Soon rises the sun, Day's race to run: His rays abroad, Flash each a sword, -- And merrily forth they flare! Sun-music in the air! So Yillah now rises and flashes! Rays shooting from ont her long lashes, -- Sun-music in the air! Her laugh! How it bounds! Bright cascade of sounds! Peal after peal, and ringing afar, -- Ringing of waters, that silvery jar, From basin to basin fast falling! Fast falling, and shining, and streaming:-- Yillah's bosom, the soft, heaving lake, Where her laughs at last dimple, and flake! Oh beautiful Yillah! Thy step so free!-- Fast fly the sea-ripples, Revealing their dimples, When forth, thou hi'st to the frolicsome sea! All the stars laugh, When upward she looks: All the trees chat In their woody nooks: All the brooks sing; All the caves ring; All the buds blossom; All the boughs bound; All the birds carol; And leaves turn round, Where Yillah looks! Light wells from her soul's deep sun Causing many toward her to run! Vines to climb, and flowers to spring; And youths their love by hundreds bring! "Proceed, gentle Yoomy, " said Babbalanja. "The meaning, " said Mohi. "The sequel, " said Media. "My lord, I have ceased in the middle; the end is not yet. " "Mysticism!" cried Babbalanja. "What, minstrel; must nothing ultimatecome of all that melody? no final and inexhaustible meaning? nothingthat strikes down into the soul's depths; till, intent upon itself, itpierces in upon its own essence, and is resolved into its pervadingoriginal; becoming a thing constituent of the all embracing deific;whereby we mortals become part and parcel of the gods; our souls tothem as thoughts; and we privy to all things occult, ineffable, andsublime? Then, Yoomy, is thy song nothing worth. Alla Mollolla saith, 'That is no true, vital breath, which leaves no moisture behind. ' Imistrust thee, minstrel! that thou hast not yet been impregnated bythe arcane mysteries; that thou dost not sufficiently ponder on theAdyta, the Monads, and the Hyparxes; the Dianoias, the UnicalHypostases, the Gnostic powers of the Psychical Essence, and theSupermundane and Pleromatic Triads; to say nothing of the AbstractNoumenons. " "Oro forbid!" cried Yoomy; "the very sound of thy words affrights me. "Then, whispering to Mohi--"Is he daft again?" "My brain is battered, " said Media. "Azzageddi! you must diet, and bebled. " "Ah!" sighed Babbalanja, turning; "how little they ween of theRudimental Quincunxes, and the Hecatic Spherula!" CHAPTER LXVIIThey Visit One Doxodox Next morning, we came to a deep, green wood, slowly nodding over thewaves; its margin frothy-white with foam. A charming sight! While delighted, all our paddlers gazed, Media, observing Babbalanjaplunged in reveries, called upon him to awake; asking what might soabsorb him. "Ah, my lord! what seraphic sounds have ye driven from me!" "Sounds! Sure, there's naught heard but yonder murmuring surf; whatother sound heard you?" "The thrilling of my soul's monochord, my lord. But prick not yourears to hear it; that divine harmony is overheard by the rapt spiritalone; it comes not by the auditory nerves. " "No more, Azzageddi! No more of that. Look yonder!" "A most lovely wood, in truth. And methinks it is here the sageDoxodox, surnamed the Wise One, dwells. " "Hark, I hear the hootings of his owls, " said Mohi. "My lord, you must have read of him. He is said to have penetratedfrom the zoned, to the unzoned principles. Shall we seek him out, thatwe may hearken to his wisdom? Doubtless he knows many things, afterwhich we pant. " The lagoon was calm, as we landed; not a breath stirred the plumes ofthe trees; and as we entered the voiceless shades, lifting his hand, Babbalanja whispered:--"This silence is a fit introduction to theportals of Telestic lore. Somewhere, beneath this moss, lurksthe mystic stone Mnizuris; whereby Doxodox hath attained unto aknowledge of the ungenerated essences. Nightly, he bathes his soul inarchangelical circumlucencies. Oh, Doxodox! whip me the Strophaluniantop! Tell o'er thy Jynges!" "Down, Azzageddi! down!" cried Media. "Behold: there sits the WiseOne; now, for true wisdom!" From the voices of the party, the sage must have been aware of ourapproach: but seated on a green bank, beneath the shade of a redmulberry, upon the boughs of which, many an owl was perched, he seemedintent upon describing divers figures in the air, with a jet-black wand. Advancing with much deference and humility, Babbalanja saluted him. "Oh wise Doxodox! Drawn hither by thy illustrious name, we seekadmittance to thy innermost wisdom. Of all Mardian, thou alonecomprehendest those arcane combinations, whereby to drag to day themost deftly hidden things, present and to come. Thou knowest what weare, and what we shall be. We beseech thee, evoke thy Tselmns!" "Tetrads; Pentads; Hexads; Heptads; Ogdoads:--meanest thou those?" "New terms all!" "Foiled at thy own weapons, " said Media. "Then, if thou comprehendest not my nomenclature:--how my science? Butlet me test thee in the portico. --Why is it, that as some thingsextend more remotely than others; so, Quadammodotatives are largerthan Qualitatives; forasmuch, as Quadammodotatives extend to thosethings, which include the Quadammodotatives themselves. " "Azzageddi has found his match, " said Media. "Still posed, Babbalanja?" asked Mohi. "At a loss, most truly! But I beseech thee, wise Doxodox! instruct mein thy dialectics, that I may embrace thy more recondite lore. " "To begin then, my child:--all Dicibles reside in the mind. " "But what are Dicibles?" said Media. "Meanest thou, Perfect or Imperfect Dicibles?" Any kind you please;--but what are they?" "Perfect Dicibles are of various sorts: Interrogative; Percontative;Adjurative; Optative; Imprecative; Execrative; Substitutive;Compellative; Hypothetical; and lastly, Dubious. " "Dubious enough! Azzageddi! forever, hereafter, hold thy peace. " "Ah, my children! I must go back to my Axioms. " "And what are they?" said old Mohi. "Of various sorts; which, again, are diverse. Thus: my contrary axiomsare Disjunctive, and Subdisjunctive; and so, with the rest. So, too, in degree, with my Syllogisms. " "And what of them?" "Did I not just hint what they were, my child? I repeat, they are ofvarious sorts: Connex, and Conjunct, for example. " "And what of them?" persisted Mohi; while Babbalanja, arms folded, stood serious and mute; a sneer on his lip. "As with other branches of my dialectics: so, too, in their way, withmy Syllogisms. Thus: when I say, --If it be warm, it is not cold:--that's a simple Sumption. If I add, But it is warm:--that's an_Ass_umption. " "So called from the syllogist himself, doubtless;" said Mohi, strokinghis beard. "Poor ignorant babe! no. Listen:--if finally, I say, --Therefore it isnot cold that's the final inference. " "And a most triumphant one it is!" cried Babbalanja. "Thrice profound, and sapient Doxodox! Light of Mardi! and Beacon of the Universe! didstever hear of the Shark-Syllogism?" "Though thy epithets be true, my child, I distrust thy sincerity. Ihave not yet heard of the syllogism to which thou referrest. " "It was thus. A shark seized a swimmer by the leg; addressing him:'Friend, I will liberate you, if you truly answer whether you think Ipurpose harm. ' Well knowing that sharks seldom were magnanimous, hereplied: Kind sir, you mean me harm; now go your ways. ' 'No, no; myconscience forbids. Nor will I falsify the words of so veracious amortal. You were to answer truly; but you say I mean you harm:--soharm it is:--here goes your leg. '" "Profane jester! Would'st thou insult me with thy torn-foolery?Begone--all of ye! tramp! pack! I say: away with ye!" and into thewoods Doxodox himself disappeared. "Bravely done, Babbalanja!" cried Media. "You turned the corner toadmiration. " "I have hopes of our Philosopher yet, " said Mohi. "Outrageous impostor! fool, dotard, oaf! Did he think to bejuggle mewith his preposterous gibberish? And is this shallow phraseman therenowned Doxodox whom I have been taught so highly to reverence? Alas, alas--Odonphi there is none!" "His fit again, " sighed Yoomy. CHAPTER LXVIIIKing Media Dreams That afternoon was melting down to eve; all but Media broad awake; yetall motionless, as the slumberer upon the purple mat. Sailing on, withopen eyes, we slept the wakeful sleep of those, who to the body onlygive repose, while the spirit still toils on, threading her mountainpasses. King Media's slumbers were like the helmed sentry's in the saddle. From them, he started like an antlered deer, bursting from out acopse. Some said he never slept; that deep within himself he butintensified the hour; or, leaving his crowned brow in marble quiet, unseen, departed to far-off councils of the gods. Howbeit, his lidsnever closed; in the noonday sun, those crystal eyes, like diamonds, sparkled with a fixed light. As motionless we thus reclined, Media turned and muttered:--"Brothergods, and demi-gods, it is not well. These mortals should have less ormore. Among my subjects is a man, whose genius scorns the commontheories of things; but whose still mortal mind can not fathom theocean at his feet. His soul's a hollow, wherein he raves. " "List, list, " whispered Yoomy--"our lord is dreaming; and what a royaldream. " "A very royal and imperial dream, " said Babbalanja--"he is arraigningme before high heaven;--ay, ay; in dreams, at least, he deems himselfa demi-god. " "Hist, " said Mohi--"he speaks again. " "Gods and demi-gods! With one gesture all abysses we may disclose; andbefore this Mardi's eyes, evoke the shrouded time to come. Were thiswell? Like lost children groping in the woods, they falterthrough their tangled paths; and at a thousand angles, baffled, startupon each other. And even when they make an onward move, 'tis but anendless vestibule, that leads to naught. In my own isle of Odo--Odo!Odo! How rules my viceroy there?--Down, down, ye madding mobs! Ho, spearmen, charge! By the firmament, but my halberdiers fly!" "His dream has changed, " said Babbalanja. "He is in Odo, whither hisanxieties impel him. " "Hist, hist, " said Yoomy. "I leap upon the soil! Render thy account, Almanni! Where's my throne?Mohi, am I not a king? Do not thy chronicles record me? Yoomy, am Inot the soul of some one glorious song? Babbalanja, speak. --Mohi! Yoomy!" "What is it, my lord? thou dost but dream. " Staring wildly; then calmly gazing round, Media smiled. "Ha! how weroyalties ramble in our dreams! I've told no secrets?" "While he seemed to sleep, my lord spoke much, " said Mohi. "I knew it not, old man; nor would now; but that ye tell me. " "We dream not ourselves, " said Babbalanja, "but the thing within us. " "Ay?--good-morrow Azzageddi!--But come; no more dreams: Vee-Vee! wine. " And straight through that livelong night, immortal Media plied the can. CHAPTER LXIXAfter A Long Interval, By Night They Are Becalmed Now suns rose, and set; moons grew, and waned; till, at last, the starthat erewhile heralded the dawn, presaged the eve; to us, sad token!--while deep within the deepest heart of Mardi's circle, we sailed fromsea to sea; and isle to isle; and group to group;--vast empiresexplored, and inland valleys, to their utmost heads; and for every rayin heaven, beheld a king. Needless to recount all that then befell; what tribes and caravans wesaw; what vast horizons; boundless plains: and sierras, in their everyintervale, a nation nestling. Enough that still we roamed. It was evening; and as the red sun, magnified, launched into the wave, once more, from a wild strand, we launched our three canoes. Soon, from her clouds, hooded Night, like a nun from a convent, drewnigh. Rustled her train, yet no spangles were there. But high on herbrow, still shone her pale crescent; haloed by bandelets--violet, red, and yellow. So looked the lone watcher through her rainbow-iris; sosad, the night without stars. The winds were laid; the lagoon, still, as a prairie of an August noon. "Let us dream out the calm, " said Media. "One of ye paddlers, watch:Ho companions! who's for Cathay?" Sleep reigned throughout the canoes, sleeping upon the waters. Butnearer and nearer, low-creeping along, came mists and vapors, athousand; spotted with twinklings of Will-o-Wisps fromneighboring shores. Dusky leopards, stealing on by crouches, thosevapors seemed. Hours silently passed. When startled by a cry, Taji sprang to hisfeet; against which something rattled; then, a quick splash! and adark form bounded into the lagoon. The dozing watcher had called aloud; and, about to stab, the assassin, dropping his stiletto, plunged. Peering hard through those treacherous mists, two figures in ashallop, were espied; dragging another, dripping, from the brine. "Foiled again, and foiled forever. No foe's corpse was I. " As we gazed, in the gloom quickly vanished the shallop; ere ours couldbe reversed to pursue. Then, from the opposite mists, glided a second canoe; and beneath theIris round the moon, shone now another:--Hautia's flowery flag! Vain to wave the sirens off; so still they came. One waved a plant of sickly silver-green. "The Midnight Tremmella!" cried Yoomy; "the falling-star of flowers!--Still I come, when least foreseen; then flee. " The second waved a hemlock top, the spike just tapering its finalpoint. The third, a convolvulus, half closed. "The end draws nigh, andall thy hopes are waning. " Then they proffered grapes. But once more waved off, silently they vanished. Again the buried barb tore, at my soul; again Yillah was invoked, butHautia made reply. Slowly wore out the night. But when uprose the sun, fled clouds, andfled sadness. CHAPTER LXXThey Land At Hooloomooloo "Keep all three prows, for yonder rock. " cried Media; "No sadness onthis merry morn! And now for the Isle of Cripples, --evenHooloomooloo. " "The Isle of Cripples?" "Ay; why not? Mohi, tell how they came to club. " In substance, thiswas the narration. Averse to the barbarous custom of destroying at birth all infants notsymmetrically formed; but equally desirous of removing from theirsight those unfortunate beings; the islanders of a neighboring grouphad long ago established an asylum for cripples; where they lived, subject to their own regulations; ruled by a king of their ownelection; in short, forming a distinct class of beings by themselves. One only restriction was placed upon them: on no account must theyquit the isle assigned them. And to the surrounding islanders, sounpleasant the sight of a distorted mortal, that a stranger landing atHooloomooloo, was deemed a prodigy. Wherefore, respecting anyknowledge of aught beyond them, the cripples were well nigh asisolated, as if Hooloomooloo was the only terra-firma extant. Dwelling in a community of their own, these unfortunates, whootherwise had remained few in number, increased and multipliedgreatly. Nor did successive generations improve in symmetry upon thosepreceding them. Soon, we drew nigh to the isle. Heaped up, and jagged with rocks; and, here and there, covered withdwarfed, twisted thickets, it seemed a fit place for its denizens. Landing, we were surrounded by a heterogeneous mob; and thus escorted, took our way inland, toward the abode of their lord, King Yoky. What a scene! Here, helping himself along with two crotched roots, hobbled a dwarfwithout legs; another stalked before, one arm fixed in the air, like alightning rod; a third, more active than any, seal-like, flirted apair of flippers, and went skipping along; a fourth hopped on asolitary pin, at every bound, spinning round like a top, to gaze;while still another, furnished with feelers or fins, rolled himself upin a ball, bowling over the ground in advance. With curious instinct, the blind stuck close to our side; with theirchattering finger, the deaf and the dumb described angles, obtuse andacute in the air; and like stones rolling down rocky ravines, scoresof stammerers stuttered. Discord wedded deformity. All asses' brayswere now harmonious memories; all Calibans, as angels. Yet for every stare we gave them, three stares they gave us. At last, we halted before a tenement of rude stones; crooked Banianboughs its rafters, thatched with fantastic leaves. So rambling andirregular its plan, it seemed thrown up by the eruption, according tosage Mohi, the origin of the isle itself. Entering, we saw King Yoky. Ah! sadly lacking was he, in all the requisites of an efficient ruler. Deaf and dumb he was; and save arms, minus every thing but anindispensable trunk and head. So huge his all-comprehensive mouth, itseemed to swallow up itself. But shapeless, helpless as was Yoky, --as king of Hooloomooloo, he wascompetent; the state being a limited monarchy, of which his Highnesswas but the passive and ornamental head. As his visitors advanced, he fell to gossiping with his fingers: aservitor interpreting. Very curious to note the rapidity withwhich motion was translated into sound; and the simultaneousness withwhich meaning made its way through four successive channels to themind--hand, sight, voice, and tympanum. Much amazement His Highness now expressed; horrified his glances. "Why club such frights as ye? Herd ye, to keep in countenance; or areafraid of your own hideousness, that ye dread to go alone? Monsters!speak. " "Great Oro!" cried Mohi, "are we then taken for cripples, by the veryKing of the Cripples? My lord, are not our legs and arms all right?" "Comelier ones were never turned by turners, Mohi. But royal Yoky! insooth we feel abashed before thee. " Some further stares were then exchanged; when His Highness sought toknow, whether there were any Comparative Anatomists among hisvisitors. "Comparative Anatomists! not one. " "And why may King Yoky ask that question?" inquired Babbalanja. Then was made the following statement. During the latter part of his reign, when he seemed fallen into hisdotage, the venerable predecessor of King Yoky had been much attachedto an old gray-headed Chimpanzee, one day found meditating in thewoods. Rozoko was his name. He was very grave, and reverend of aspect;much of a philosopher. To him, all gnarled and knotty subjects werefamiliar; in his day he had cracked many a crabbed nut. And so in lovewith his Timonean solitude was Rozoko, that it needed many bribes andbland persuasions, to induce him to desert his mossy, hillside, misanthropic cave, for the distracting tumult of a court. But ere long, promoted to high offices, and made the royal favorite, the woodland sage forgot his forests; and, love for love, returned theaged king's caresses. Ardent friends they straight became; dined anddrank together; with quivering lips, quaffed long-drawn, soberbumpers; comparing all their past experiences; and canvassing thosehidden themes, on which octogenarians dilate. For when the fires and broils of youth are passed, and Mardi wears itstruer aspect--then we love to think, not act; the present seems moreunsubstantial than the past; then, we seek out gray-beards likeourselves; and hold discourse of palsies, hearses, shrouds, and tombs;appoint our undertakers; our mantles gather round us, like to winding-sheets; and every night lie down to die. Then, the world's greatbubble bursts; then, Life's clouds seem sweeping by, revealing heavento our straining eyes; then, we tell our beads, and murmur pater-nosters; and in trembling accents cry--"Oro! be merciful. " So, the monarch and Rozoko. But not always were they thus. Of bright, cheerful mornings, they tookslow, tottering rambles in the woods; nodding over grotesque walking-sticks, of the Chimpanzee's handiwork. For sedate Rozoko was adilletante-arborist: an amateur in canes. Indeed, canes at last becamehis hobby. For half daft with age, sometimes he straddled his goodstaff and gently rode abroad, to take the salubrious evening air;deeming it more befitting exercise, at times, than walking. Into thismenage, he soon initiated his friend, the king; and side by side theyoften pranced; or, wearying of the saddle, dismounted; and paused toponder over prostrate palms, decaying across the path. Their mysticrings they counted; and, for every ring, a year in their owncalendars. Now, so closely did the monarch cleave to the Chimpanzee, that, ingood time, summoning his subjects, earnestly he charged it on them, that at death, he and his faithful friend should be buried in onetomb. It came to pass, the monarch died; and Poor Rozoko, now reduced tosecond childhood, wailed most dismally:--no one slept that night inHooloomooloo. Never did he leave the body; and at last, slowly goinground it thrice, he laid him down; close nestled; andnoiselessly expired. The king's injunctions were remembered; and one vault received themboth. Moon followed moon; and wrought upon by jeers and taunts, the peopleof the isle became greatly scandalized, that a base-born baboon shouldshare the shroud of their departed lord; though they themselves hadtucked in the aged AEneas fast by the side of his Achates. They straight resolved, to build another vault; and over it, a loftycairn; and thither carry the remains they reverenced. But at the disinterring, a sad perplexity arose. For lo surpassingSaul and Jonathan, not even in decay were these fast friends divided. So mingled every relic, --ilium and ulna, carpus and metacarpus;--andso similar the corresponding parts, that like the literary remains ofBeaumont and of Fletcher, which was which, no spectacles could tell. Therefore, they desisted; lest the towering monument they had reared, might commemorate an ape, and not a king. Such the narration; hearing which, my lord Media kept stately silence. But in courtly phrase, as beseemed him, Babbalanja, turban in hand, thus spoke:-- "My concern is extreme, King Yoky, at the embarrassment into whichyour island is thrown. Nor less my grief, that I myself am not theman, to put an end to it. I could weep that Comparative Anatomists arenot so numerous now, as hereafter they assuredly must become; whentheir services shall be in greater request; when, at the last, lastday of all, millions of noble and ignoble spirits will loudly clamorfor lost skeletons; when contending claimants shall start up for onepoor, carious spine; and, dog-like, we shall quarrel over our ownbones. " Then entered dwarf-stewards, and major-domos; aloft bearing twistedantlers; all hollowed out in goblets, grouped; announcing dinner. Loving not, however, to dine with misshapen Mardians, King Media wasloth to move. But Babbalanja, quoting the old proverb--"Strike me inthe face, but refuse not my yams, " induced him to sacrifice hisfastidiousness. So, under a flourish of ram-horn bugles, court and company proceededto the banquet. Central was a long, dislocated trunk of a wild Banian; like a hugecentipede crawling on its hundred branches, sawn of even lengths forlegs. This table was set out with wry-necked gourds; deformities ofcalabashes; and shapeless trenchers, dug out of knotty woods. The first course was shrimp-soup, served in great clamp-shells; thesecond, lobsters, cuttle-fish, crabs, cockles, cray-fish; the third, hunchbacked roots of the Taro-plant--plantains, perversely curling atthe end, like the inveterate tails of pertinacious pigs; and fordessert, ill-shaped melons, huge as idiots' heads, plainly sufferingfrom water in the brain. Now these viands were commended to the favorable notice of all guests;not only for their delicacy of flavor, but for their symmetry. And in the intervals of the courses, we were bored with hints toadmire numerous objects of vertu: bow-legged stools of mangrove wood;zig-zag rapiers of bone; armlets of grampus-vertebrae; outlandishtureens of the callipees of terrapin; and cannakins of the skulls ofbaboons. The banquet over, with many congees, we withdrew. Returning to the water-side, we passed a field, where dwarfs werelaboring in beds of yams, heaping the soil around the roots, byscratching it backward; as a dog. All things in readiness, Yoky's valet, a tri-armed dwarf, treated usto a glorious start, by giving each canoe a vigorous triple-push, crying, "away with ye, monsters!" Nor must it be omitted that just previous to embarking, Vee-Vee, spying a curious looking stone, turned it over, and found a snake. CHAPTER LXXIA Book From The "Ponderings Of Old Bardianna" "Now, " said Babbalanja, lighting his trombone as we sailed from theisle, "who are the monsters, we or the cripples?" "You yourself are a monster, for asking the question, " said Mohi. "And so, to the cripples I am; though not, old man, for the reason youmention. But I am, as I am; whether hideous, or handsome, depends uponwho is made judge. There is no supreme standard yet revealed, wherebyto judge of ourselves; 'Our very instincts are prejudices, ' saith AllaMallolla; 'Our very axioms, and postulates are far from infallible. ''In respect of the universe, mankind is but a sect, ' saith Diloro:'and first principles but dogmas. ' What ethics prevail in thePleiades? What things have the synods in Sagittarius decreed?" "Never mind your old authors, " said Media. "Stick to the cripples;enlarge upon them. " "But I have done with them now, my lord; the sermon is not the text. Give ear to old Bardianna. I know him by heart. Thus saith the sage inBook X. Of the Ponderings, 'Zermalmende, ' the title: 'Je pense, ' themotto:--'My supremacy over creation, boasteth man, is declared in mynatural attitude:--I stand erect! But so do the palm-trees; and thegiraffes that graze off their tops. And the fowls of the air fly highover our heads; and from the place where we fancy our heaven to be, defile the tops of our temples. Belike, the eagles, from their eyrieslook down upon us Mardians, in our hives, even as upon thebeavers in their dams, marveling at our incomprehensible ways. Andcunning though we be, some things, hidden from us, may not bemysteries to them. Having five keys, hold we all that open toknowledge? Deaf, blind, and deprived of the power of scent, the batwill steer its way unerringly:--could we? Yet man is lord of the batand the brute; lord over the crows; with whom, he must needs share thegrain he garners. We sweat for the fowls, as well as ourselves. Thecurse of labor rests only on us. Like slaves, we toil: at their goodleisure they glean. "'Mardi is not wholly ours. We are the least populous part ofcreation. To say nothing of other tribes, a census of the herringwould find us far in the minority. And what life is to us, --sour orsweet, --so is it to them. Like us, they die, fighting death to thelast; like us, they spawn and depart. We inhabit but a crust, roughsurfaces, odds and ends of the isles; the abounding lagoon being itstwo-thirds, its grand feature from afar; and forever unfathomable. "'What shaft has yet been sunk to the antipodes? What underlieth thegold mines? "'But even here, above-ground, we grope with the sun at meridian. Vainly, we seek our Northwest Passages, --old alleys, and thoroughfaresof the whales. "'Oh men! fellow men! we are only what we are; not what we would be;nor every thing we hope for. We are but a step in a scale, thatreaches further above us than below. We breathe but oxygen. Who inArcturus hath heard of us? They know us not in the Milky Way. We prateof faculties divine: and know not how sprouteth a spear of grass; wego about shrugging our shoulders: when the firmament-arch is over us;we rant of etherealities: and long tarry over our banquets; we demandEternity for a lifetime: when our mortal half-hours too often provetedious. We know not of what we talk. The Bird of Paradise out-fliesour flutterings. What it is to be immortal, has not yet enteredinto our thoughts. At will, we build our futurities; tier above tier, all galleries full of laureates: resounding with everlastingoratorios! Pater-nosters forever, or eternal Misereres! forgettingthat in Mardi, our breviaries oft fall from our hands. But divansthere are, some say, whereon we shall recline, basking in effulgentsuns, knowing neither Orient nor Occident. Is it so? Fellow men! ourmortal lives have an end; but that end is no goal: no place of repose. Whatever it may be, it will prove but as the beginning of anotherrace. We will hope, joy, weep, as before; though our tears may be suchas the spice-trees shed. Supine we can only be, annihilated. "'The thick film is breaking; the ages have long been circling. Fellow-men! if we live hereafter, it will not be in lyrics; nor shallwe yawn, and our shadows lengthen, while the eternal cycles arerevolving. To live at all, is a high vocation; to live forever, andrun parallel with Oro, may truly appall us. Toil we not here? andshall we be forever slothful elsewhere? Other worlds differ not muchfrom this, but in degree. Doubtless, a pebble is a fair specimen ofthe universe. "'We point at random. Peradventure at this instant, there are beingsgazing up to this very world as their future heaven. But the universeis all over a heaven: nothing but stars on stars, throughoutinfinities of expansion. All we see are but a cluster. Could we get toBootes, we would be no nearer Oro, than now he hath no place; but ishere. Already, in its unimaginable roamings, our system may havedragged us through and through the spaces, where we plant cities ofberyl and jasper. Even now, we may be inhaling the ether, which wefancy seraphic wings are fanning. But look round. There is much to beseen here, and now. Do the archangels survey aught more glorious thanthe constellations we nightly behold? Continually we slight thewonders, we deem in reserve. We await the present. With marvels we areglutted, till we hold them no marvels at all. But had theseeyes first opened upon all the prodigies in the Revelation of theDreamer, long familiarity would have made them appear, even as thesethings we see. Now, _now_, the page is out-spread: to the simple, easyas a primer; to the wise, more puzzling than hieroglyphics. Theeternity to come, is but a prolongation of time present: and thebeginning may be more wonderful than the end. "'Then let us be wise. But much of the knowledge we seek, already wehave in our cores. Yet so simple it is, we despise it; so bold, wefear it. "'In solitude, let us exhume our ingots. Let us hear our own thoughts. The soul needs no mentor, but Oro; and Oro, without proxy. WantingHim, it is both the teacher and the taught. Undeniably, reason was thefirst revelation; and so far as it tests all others, it has precedenceover them. It comes direct to us, without suppression orinterpolation; and with Oro's indisputable imprimatur. But inspirationthough it be, it is not so arrogant as some think. Nay, far toohumble, at times it submits to the grossest indignities. Though in itsbest estate, not infallible; so far as it goes, for us, it isreliable. When at fault, it stands still. We speak not of visionaries. But if this our first revelation stops short of the uttermost, so withall others. If, often, it only perplexes: much more the rest. Theyleave much unexpounded; and disclosing new mysteries, add to theenigma. Fellow-men; the ocean we would sound is unfathomable; andhowever much we add to our line, when it is out, we feel not thebottom. Let us be truly lowly, then; not lifted up with a Pharisaichumility. We crawl not like worms; nor wear we the liveries of angels. "'The firmament-arch has no key-stone; least of all, is man its prop. He stands alone. We are every thing to ourselves, but how little toothers. What are others to us? Assure life everlasting to thisgeneration, and their immediate forefathers--and what tears wouldflow, were there no resurrection for the countless generationsfrom the first man to five cycles since? And soon we ourselves shallhave fallen in with the rank and file of our sires. At a blow, annihilate some distant tribe, now alive and jocund--and what would wereck? Curiosity apart, do we really care whether the people inBellatrix are immortal or no? "'Though they smite us, let us not turn away from these things, ifthey be really thus. "'There was a time, when near Cassiopeia, a star of the firstmagnitude, most lustrous in the North, grew lurid as a fire, then dimas ashes, and went out. Now, its place is a blank. A vast world, withall its continents, say the astronomers, blazing over the heads of ourfathers; while in Mardi were merry-makings, and maidens given inmarriage. Who now thinks of that burning sphere? How few are awarethat ever it was? "'These things are so. "'Fellow-men! we must go, and obtain a glimpse of what we are from theBelts of Jupiter and the Moons of Saturn, ere we see ourselves aright. The universe can wax old without us; though by Oro's grace we may liveto behold a wrinkle in the sky. Eternity is not ours by right; and, alone, unrequited sufferings here, form no title thereto, unlessresurrections are reserved for maltreated brutes. Suffering issuffering; be the sufferer man, brute, or thing. "'How small;--how nothing, our deserts! Let us stifle all vainspeculations; we need not to be told what righteousness is; we wereborn with the whole Law in our hearts. Let us do: let us act: let usdown on our knees. And if, after all, we should be no more forever;--far better to perish meriting immortality, than to enjoy itunmeritorious. While we fight over creeds, ten thousand fingers pointto where vital good may be done. All round us, Want crawls to herlairs; and, shivering, dies unrelieved. Here, _here_, fellow-men, wecan better minister as angels, than in heaven, where want and miserycome not. "'We Mardians talk as though the future was all in all; but act asthough the present was every thing. Yet so far as, in our theories, wedwarf our Mardi; we go not beyond an archangel's apprehension of it, who takes in all suns and systems at a glance. Like pebbles, were theisles to sink in space, Sirius, the Dog-star, would still flame in thesky. But as the atom to the animalculae, so Mardi to us. And livedaright, these mortal lives are long; looked into, these souls, fathomless as the nethermost depths. "'Fellow-men; we split upon hairs; but stripped, mere words andphrases cast aside, the great bulk of us are orthodox. None who think, dissent from the grand belief. The first man's thoughts were as ours. The paramount revelation prevails with us; and all that clashestherewith, we do not so much believe, as believe that we can notdisbelieve. Common sense is a sturdy despot; that, for the most part, has its own way. It inspects and ratifies much independent of it. Butthose who think they do wholly reject it, are but held in a sly sortof bondage; under a semblance of something else, wearing the old yoke. '" "Cease, cease, Babbalanja, " said Media, "and permit me to insinuate aword in your ear. You have long been in the habit, philosopher, ofregaling us with chapters from your old Bardianna; and with infinitegusto, you have just recited the longest of all. But I do not observe, oh, Sage! that for all these things, you yourself are practically thebetter or wiser. You live not up to Bardianna's main thought. Where hestands, he stands immovable; but you are a Dog-vane. How is this?" "Gogle-goggle, fugle-fi, fugle-fogle-orum!" "Mad, mad again, " cried Yoomy. CHAPTER LXXIIBabbalanja Starts To His Feet For twenty-four hours, seated stiff, and motionless, Babbalanja spokenot a word; then, almost without moving a muscle, muttered thus:--"Atbanquets surfeit not, but fill; partake, and retire; and eat not againtill you crave. Thereby you give nature time to work her magictransformings; turning all solids to meat, and wine into blood. Aftera banquet you incline to repose:--do so: digestion commands. All thisfollow those, who feast at the tables of Wisdom; and all such arethey, who partake of the fare of old Bardianna. " "Art resuscitated, then, Babbalanja?" said Media. "Ay, my lord, I amjust risen from the dead. " "And did Azzageddi conduct you to their realms?" "Fangs off! fangs off! depart, thou fiend!--unhand me! or by Oro, Iwill die and spite thee!" "Quick, quick, Mohi! let us change places, " cried Yoomy. "How now, Babbalanja?" said Media. "Oh my lord man--not _you_ my lord Media!--high and mighty Puissance!great King of Creation!--thou art but the biggest of braggarts! Inevery age, thou boastest of thy valorous advances:--flat fools, olddotards, and numskulls, our sires! All the Past, wasted time! thePresent knows all! right lucky, fellow-beings, we live now! every manan author! books plenty as men! strike a light in a minute! teeth soldby the pound! all the elements fetching and carrying! lightningrunning on errands! rivers made to order! the ocean a puddle!--But ages back they boasted like us; and ages to come, forever andever, they'll boast. Ages back they black-balled the past, thought thelast day was come; so wise they were grown. Mardi could not standlong; have to annex one of the planets; invade the great sun; colonizethe moon;--conquerors sighed for new Mardis; and sages for heaven--having by heart all the primers here below. Like us, ages back theygroaned under their books; made bonfires of libraries, leaving ashesbehind, mid which we reverentially grope for charred pages, forgettingwe are so much wiser than they. --But amazing times! astoundingrevelations; preternatural divulgings!--How now?--more wonderful thanall our discoveries is this: that they never were discovered before. So simple, no doubt our ancestors overlooked them; intent on deeperthings--the deep things of the soul. All we discover has been with ussince the sun began to roll; and much we discover, is not worth thediscovering. We are children, climbing trees after birds' nests, andmaking a great shout, whether we find eggs in them or no. But whereare our wings, which our fore-fathers surely had not? Tell us, yesages! something worth an archangel's learning; discover, yediscoverers, something new. Fools, fools! Mardi's not changed: the sunyet rises in its old place in the East; all things go on in the sameold way; we cut our eye-teeth just as late as they did, three thousandyears ago. " "Your pardon, " said Mohi, "for beshrew me, they are not yet all cut. At threescore and ten, here have I a new tooth coming now. " "Old man! it but clears the way for another. The teeth sown by thealphabet-founder, were eye-teeth, not yet all sprung from the soil. Like spring-wheat, blade by blade, they break ground late; likespring-wheat, many seeds have perished in the hard winter glebe. Oh, my lord! though we galvanize corpses into St. Vitus' dances, we raisenot the dead from their graves! Though we have discovered thecirculation of the blood, men die as of yore; oxen graze, sheepbleat, babies bawl, asses bray--loud and lusty as the day before theflood. Men fight and make up; repent and go at it; feast and starve;laugh and weep; pray and curse; cheat, chaffer, trick, truckle, cozen, defraud, fib, lie, beg, borrow, steal, hang, drown--as in the laughingand weeping, tricking and truckling, hanging and drowning times thathave been. Nothing changes, though much be new-fashioned: new fashionsbut revivals of things previous. In the books of the past we learnnaught but of the present; in those of the present, the past. AllMardi's history--beginning middle, and finis--was written out incapitals in the first page penned. The whole story is told in a title-page. An exclamation point is entire Mardi's autobiography. " "Who speaks now?" said Media, Bardianna, Azzageddi, or Babbalanja?" "All three: is it not a pleasant concert?" "Very fine: very fine. --Go on; and tell us something of the future. " "I have never departed this life yet, my lord. " "But just now you said you were risen from the dead. " "From the burieddead within me; not from myself, my lord. " "If you, then, know nothing of the future--did Bardianna?" "If he did, naught did he reveal. I have ever observed, my lord, thateven in their deepest lucubrations, the profoundest, frankest, ponderers always reserve a vast deal of precious thought for their ownprivate behoof. They think, perhaps, that 'tis too good, or too bad;too wise, or too foolish, for the multitude. And this unpleasantvibration is ever consequent upon striking a new vein of ideas in thesoul. As with buried treasures, the ground over them sounds strangeand hollow. At any rate, the profoundest ponderer seldom tells us allhe thinks; seldom reveals to us the ultimate, and the innermost;seldom makes us open our eyes under water; seldom throws openthe totus-in-toto; and never carries us with him, to theunconsubsistent, the ideaimmanens, the super-essential, and the One. " Confusion! Remember the Quadammodatatives!" "Ah!" said Braid-Beard, "that's the crack in his calabash, which allthe Dicibles of Doxdox will not mend. " "And from that crazy calabash he gives us to drink, old Mohi. " "But never heed his leaky gourd nor its contents, my lord. Let thesephilosophers muddle themselves as they will, we wise ones refuse topartake. " "And fools like me drink till they reel, " said Babbalanja. "But inthese matters one's calabash must needs go round to keep afloat. Fogle-orum!" CHAPTER LXXIIIAt Last, The Last Mention Is Made Of Old Bardianna; And His Last WillAnd Testament Is Recited At Length The day was waning. And, as after many a tale of ghosts, around theirforest fire, Hungarian gipsies silent sit; watching the ruddy glowkindling each other's faces;--so, now we solemn sat; the crimson Westour fire; all our faces flushed. "Testators!" then cried Media, when your last wills are all roundsettled, speak, and make it known!" "Mine, my lord, has long been fixed, " said Babbalanja. "And how runs it?" "Fugle-fogle--" "Hark ye, intruding Azzageddi! rejoin thy merry mates below;--gothere, and wag thy saucy tail; or I will nail it to our bow, till yeroar for liberation. Begone, I say. " "Down, devil! deeper down!" rumbled Babbalanja. "My lord, I think he's gone. And now, by your good leave, I'll repeatold Bardianna's Will. It's worth all Mardi's hearing; and I have sostudied it, by rote I know it. " "Proceed then; but I mistrust that Azzageddi is not yet many thousandfathoms down. " "Attend my lord:---'Anno Mardis 50, 000, 000, o. S. I, Bardianna, of theisland of Vamba, and village of the same name, having just risen frommy yams, in high health, high spirits, and sound mind, do herebycheerfully make and ordain this my last will and testament. "'Imprimis: "'All my kith and kin being well to do in Mardi, I wholly leave themout of this my will. "'Item. Since, in divers ways, verbally and otherwise, my good friendPondo has evinced a strong love for me, Bardianna, as the owner andproprietor of all that capital messuage with the appurtenances, inVamba aforesaid, called 'The Lair, ' wherein I now dwell; also for allmy Bread-fruit orchards, Palm-groves, Banana-plantations, Taro-patches, gardens, lawns, lanes, and hereditaments whatsoever, adjoining the aforesaid messuage;--I do hereby give and bequeath thesame to Bomblum of the island of Adda; the aforesaid Bomblum havingnever expressed any regard for me, as a holder of real estate. "'Item. My esteemed neighbor Lakreemo having since the last lunareclipse called daily to inquire after the state of my health: andhaving nightly made tearful inquiries of my herb-doctor, concerningthe state of my viscera;--I do hereby give and bequeath to theaforesaid Lakreemo all and sundry those vegetable pills, potions, powders, aperients, purgatives, expellatives, evacuatives, tonics, emetics, cathartics, clysters, injections, scarifiers, cataplasms, lenitives, lotions, decoctions, washes, gargles, and phlegmagogues;together with all the jars, calabashes, gourds, and galipots, thereunto pertaining; situate, lying, and being, in the west-by-northcorner of my east-southeast crypt, in my aforesaid tenement known as'The Lair. ' "'Item. The woman Pesti; a native of Vamba, having oftentimes hintedthat I, Bardianna, sorely needed a spouse, and having also intimatedthat she bore me a conjugal affection; I do hereby give and bequeathto the aforesaid Pesti:--my blessing; forasmuch, as by the time ofthe opening of this my last will and testament, I shall have beenforever delivered from the aforesaid Pesti's persecutions. "'Item. Having a high opinion of the probity of my worthy andexcellent friend Bidiri, I do hereby entirely, and wholly, give, will, grant, bestow, devise, and utterly hand over unto the said Bidiri, allthat tenement where my servant Oram now dwelleth; with all the lawns, meadows, uplands and lowlands, fields, groves, and gardens, thereuntobelonging:--IN TRUST NEVERTHELESS to have and to hold the same for thesole use and benefit of Lanbranka Hohinna, spinster, now resident ofthe aforesaid island of Vamba. "'Item. I give and bequeath my large carved drinking gourd to my goodcomrade Topo. "'Item. My fast friend Doldrum having at sundry times, and in sundryplaces, uttered the prophecy, that upon my decease his sorrow would begreat; I do hereby give and bequeath to the aforesaid Doldrum, tenyards of my best soft tappa, to be divided into handkerchiefs for hissole benefit and behoof. "'Item. My sensible friend Solo having informed me, that he intendedto remain a bachelor for life; I give and devise to the aforesaidSolo, the mat for one person, whereon I nightly repose. "'Item. Concerning my private Arbor and Palm-groves, adjoining, lying, and being in the isle of Vamba, I give and devise the same, with allappurtenances whatsoever, to my friend Minta the Cynic, to have and tohold, in trust for the first through-and-through honest man, issue ofmy neighbor Mondi; and in default of such issue, for the firstthrough-and-through honest man, issue of my neighbor Pendidda; and indefault of such issue, for the first through-and-through honest man, issue of my neighbor Wynodo: and in default of such issue, to anythrough-and-through honest man, issue of any body, to be found throughthe length and breadth of Mardi. "'Item. My friend Minta the Cynic to be sole judge of all claims tothe above-mentioned devise; and to hold the said premises for his ownuse, until the aforesaid person be found. "'Item. Knowing my devoted scribe Marko to be very sensitive touchingthe receipt of a favor; I willingly spare him that pain; and herebybequeath unto the aforesaid scribe, three milk-teeth, not as apecuniary legacy, but as a very slight token of my profound regard. "'Item. I give to the poor of Vamba the total contents of my red-labeled bags of bicuspids and canines (which I account three-fourthsof my whole estate); to my body servant Fidi, my staff, all my robesand togas, and three hundred molars in cash; to that discerning andsagacious philosopher my disciple Krako, one complete set ofdenticles, to buy him a vertebral bone ring; and to that pious andpromising youth Vangi, two fathoms of my best kaiar rope, with theprivilege of any bough in my groves. "'All the rest of my goods, chattels and household stuff whatsoever;and all my loose denticles, remaining after my debts and legacies arepaid, and my body is out of sight, I hereby direct to be distributedamong the poor of Vamba. "'Ultimo. I give and bequeath to all Mardi this my last advice andcounsel:--videlicet: live as long as you can; close your own eyes whenyou die. "'I have no previous wills to revoke; and publish this to be my firstand last. "'In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my right hand; and hereuntohave caused a true copy of the tattooing on my right temple to beaffixed, during the year first above written. "'By me, BARDIANNA. '" "Babbalanja, that's an extraordinary document, " said Media. "Bardianna was an extraordinary man, my lord. " "Were there no codicils?" "The will is all codicils; all after-thoughts; Ten thoughts for oneact, was Bardianna's motto. " "Left he nothing whatever to his kindred?" "Not a stump. " "Prom his will, he seems to have lived single. " "Yes: Bardianna never sought to improve upon nature; a bachelor hewas born, and a bachelor he died. " "According to the best accounts, how did he depart, Babbalanja?" askedMohi. "With a firm lip, and his hand on his heart, old man. " "His last words?" "Calmer, and better!" "Where think you, he is now?" "In his Ponderings. And those, my lord, we all inherit; for like thegreat chief of Romara, who made a whole empire his legatee; so, greatauthors have all Mardi for an heir. " CHAPTER LXXIVA Death-Cloud Sweeps By Them, As They Sail Next day, a fearful sight! As in Sooloo's seas, one vast water-spout will, sudden, form: andwhirling, chase the flying Malay keels; so, before a swift-wingedcloud, a thousand prows sped by, leaving braided, foaming wakes; theircrowded inmates' arms, in frenzied supplications wreathed; liketangled forest-boughs. "See, see, " cried Yoomy, "how the Death-cloud flies! Let us dive downin the sea. " "Nay, " said Babbalanja. "All things come of Oro; if we must drown, letOro drown us. " "Down sails: drop paddles, " said Media: "here we float. " Like a rushing bison, sweeping by, the Death-cloud grazed us with itsfoam; and whirling in upon the thousand prows beyond, sudden burst indeluges; and scooping out a maelstrom, dragged down every plank and soul. Long we rocked upon the circling billows, which expanding from thatcenter, dashed every isle, till, moons after-ward, faint, they lavedall Mardi's reef. "Thanks unto Oro, " murmured Mohi, "this heart still beats. " That sun-flushed eve, we sailed by many tranquil harbors, whence fledthose thousand prows. Serene, the waves ran up their strands; andchimed around the unharmed stakes of palm, to which the thousand prowsthat morning had been fastened. "Flying death, they ran to meet it, " said Babbalanja. "But 'tie notthat they fled, they died; for maelstroms, of these harbors, theDeath-cloud might have made. But they died, because they might notlonger live. Could we gain one glimpse of the great calendar ofeternity, all our names would there be found, glued against theirdates of death. We die by land, and die by sea; we die by earthquakes, famines, plagues, and wars; by fevers, agues; woe, or mirth excessive. This mortal air is one wide pestilence, that kills us all at last. Whom the Death-cloud spares, sleeping, dies in silent watches of thenight. He whom the spears of many battles could not slay, dies of agrape-stone, beneath the vine-clad bower he built, to shade decliningyears. We die, because we live. But none the less does Babbalanjaquake. And if he flies not, 'tis because he stands the center of acircle; its every point a leveled dart; and every bow, bent back:--atwang, and Babbalanja dies. " CHAPTER LXXVThey Visit The Palmy King Abrazza Night and morn departed; and in the afternoon, we drew nigh to anisland, overcast with shadows; a shower was falling; and pining, plaintive notes forth issued from the groves: half-suppressed, andsobbing whisperings of leaves. The shore sloped to the water; thitherour prows were pointed. "Sheer off! no landing here, " cried Media, "let us gain the sunnyside; and like the care-free bachelor Abrazza, who here is king, turnour back on the isle's shadowy side, and revel in its morning-meads. " "And lord Abrazza:--who is he?" asked Yoomy. "The one hundred and twentieth in lineal descent from Phipora, " saidMohi; "and connected on the maternal side to the lord seigniors ofKlivonia. His uttermost uncle was nephew to the niece of QueenZmiglandi; who flourished so long since, she wedded at the firstTransit of Venus. His pedigree is endless. " "But who is lord Abrazza?" "Has he not said?" answered Babbalanja. "Why so dull?--Uttermostnephew to him, who was nephew to the niece of the peerless QueenZmiglandi; and the one hundred and twentieth in descent from theillustrious Phipora. " "Will none tell, who Abrazza is?" "Can not a man then, be described by running off the catalogue of hisancestors?" said Babbalanja. "Or must we e'en descend to himself. Then, listen, dull Yoomy! and know that lord Abrazza is six feet two:plump thighs; blue eyes; and brown hair; likes his bread-fruit baked, not roasted; sometimes carries filberts in his crown: and has away of winking when he speaks. His teeth are good. " "Are you publishing some decamped burglar, " said Media, "that youspeak thus of my royal friend, the lord Abrazza? Go on, sir! and sayhe reigns sole king of Bonovona!" "My lord, I had not ended. Abrazza, Yoomy, is a fine and florid king:high-fed, and affluent of heart; of speech, mellifluent. And for aroyalty extremely amiable. He is a sceptered gentleman, who does muchgood. Kind king! in person he gives orders for relieving those, whodaily dive for pearls, to grace his royal robe; and gasping hard, withblood-shot eyes, come up from shark-infested depths, and fainting, laytheir treasure at his feet. Sweet lord Abrazza! how he pities those, who in his furthest woodlands day-long toil to do his bidding. Yetking-philosopher, he never weeps; but pities with a placid smile; andthat but seldom. " "There seems much iron in your blood, " said Media. "But say your say. " "Say I not truth, my lord? Abrazza, I admire. Save his royal pity allelse is jocund round him. He loves to live for life's own sake. Hevows he'll have no cares; and often says, in pleasant reveries, --'Sure, my lord Abrazza, if any one should be care-free, 'tis thou; whostrike down none, but pity all the fallen!' Yet none he lifteth up. " At length we gained the sunny side, and shoreward tended. Vee-Vee'shorn was sonorous; and issuing from his golden groves, my lordAbrazza, like a host that greets you on the threshold, met us, as wekeeled the beach. "Welcome! fellow demi-god, and king! Media, my pleasant guest!" His servitors salamed; his chieftains bowed; his yeoman-guard, inmeadow-green, presented palm-stalks, --royal tokens; and hand in hand, the nodding, jovial, regal friends, went up a lane of salutations;dragging behind, a train of envyings. Much we marked Abrazza's jeweled crown; that shot no honest blaze ofruddy rubies; nor looked stern-white like Media's pearls; but cast agreen and yellow glare; rays from emeralds, crossing rays from many atopaz. In those beams, so sinister, all present looked cadaverous:Abrazza's cheek alone beamed bright, but hectic. Upon its fragrant mats a spacious hall received the kings; andgathering courtiers blandly bowed; and gushing with soft flatteries, breathed idol-incense round them. The hall was terraced thrice; its elevated end was curtained; andthence, at every chime of words, there burst a girl, gay scarfed, withnaked bosom, and poured forth wild and hollow laughter, as she raceddown all the terraces, and passed their merry kingships. Wide round the hall, in avenues, waved almond-woods; their whitenessfrosted into bloom. But every vine-clad trunk was hollow-hearted;hollow sounds came from the grottos: hollow broke the billows on theshore: and hollow pauses filled the air, following the hollowlaughter. Guards, with spears, paced the groves, and in the inner shadows, oftwere seen to lift their weapons, and backward press some ugly phantom, saying, "Subjects! haunt him not; Abrazza would be merry; Abrazzafeasts his guests. " So, banished from our sight seemed all things uncongenial; andpleasant times were ours, in these dominions. Not a face passed by, but smiled; mocking-birds perched on the boughs; and singing, made usvow the woods were warbling forth thanksgiving, with a thousandthroats! The stalwart yeomen grinned beneath their trenchers, heapedwith citrons pomegrantes, grapes; the pages tittered, pouring out thewine; and all the lords loud laughed, smote their gilded spears, andswore the isle was glad. Such the isle, in which we tarried; but in our rambles, found noYillah. CHAPTER LXXVISome Pleasant, Shady Talk In The Groves, Between My Lords Abrazza AndMedia, Babbalanja, Mohi, And Yoomy Abrazza had a cool retreat--a grove of dates; where we were used tolounge of noons, and mix our converse with the babble of the rills;and mix our punches in goblets chased with grapes. And as ever, KingAbrazza was the prince of hosts. "Your crown, " he said to Media; and with his own, he hung it on abough. "Be not ceremonious:" and stretched his royal legs upon the turf. "Wine!" and his pages poured it out. So on the grass we lounged; and King Abrazza, who loved his antiqueancestors; and loved old times; and would not talk of moderns;--badeYoomy sing old songs; bade Mohi rehearse old histories; badeBabbalanja tell of old ontologies; and commanded all, meanwhile, todrink his old, old wine. So, all round we quaffed and quoted. At last, we talked of old Homeric bards:--those who, ages back, harped, and begged, and groped their blinded way through all thischaritable Mardi; receiving coppers then, and immortal glory now. ABRAZZA--How came it, that they all were blind? BABBALANJA--It was endemical, your Highness. Few grand poets havegood eyes; for they needs blind must be, who ever gaze upon the sun. Vavona himself was blind:when, in the silence of his secret bower, he said--"I will buildanother world. Therein, let there be kings and slaves, philosophersand wits; whose checkered actions--strange, grotesque, and merry-sad, will entertain my idle moods. " So, my lord, Vavona played at kings andcrowns, and men and manners; and loved that lonely game to play. ABRAZZA--Vavona seemed a solitary Mardian; who seldom went abroad;had few friends; and shunning others, was shunned by them. BABBALANJA--But shunned not himself, my lord; like gods, great poetsdwell alone; while round them, roll the worlds they build. MEDIA--You seem to know all authors:--you must have heard ofLombardo, Babbalanja; he who flourished many ages since. BABBALANJA--I have; and his grand Kortanza know by heart. MEDIA (_to Abrazza. _)--A very curious work, that, my lord. ABRAZZA--Yes, my dearest king. But, Babbalanja, if Lombardo had aughtto tell to Mardi--why choose a vehicle so crazy? BABBALANJA--It was his nature, I suppose. ABRAZZA--But so it would not have been, to me. BABBALANJA--Nor would it have been natural, for my noble lordAbrazza, to have worn Lombardo's head:--every man has his own, thankOro! ABBRAZZA--A curious work: a very curious work. Babbalanja, are youacquainted with the history of Lombardo? BABBALANJA--None better. All his biographies have I read. ABRAZZA--Then, tell us how he came to write that work. For one, I cannot imagine how those poor devils contrive to roll such thundersthrough all Mardi. MEDIA--Their thunder and lightning seem spontaneous combustibles, mylord. ABRAZZA--With which, they but consume themselves, my prince beloved. BABBALANJA--In a measure, true, your Highness. But pray you, listen;and I will try to tell the way in which Lombardo produced his greatKortanza. MEDIA--But hark you, philosopher! this time no incoherencies; gagthat devil, Azzageddi. And now, what was it that originally impelledLombardo to the undertaking? BABBALANJA--Primus and forever, a full heart:--brimful, bubbling, sparkling; and running over like the flagon in your hand, my lord. Secundo, the necessity of bestirring himself to procure his yams. ABRAZZA--Wanting the second motive, would the first have sufficed, philosopher? BABBALANJA--Doubtful. More conduits than one to drain off the soul'soverflowings. Besides, the greatest fullnesses overflow notspontaneously; and, even when decanted, like rich syrups, slowly ooze;whereas, poor fluids glibly flow, wide-spreading. Hence, when greatfullness weds great indolence;--that man, to others, too often provesa cipher; though, to himself, his thoughts form an Infinite Series, indefinite, from its vastness; and incommunicable;--not for lack ofpower, but for lack of an omnipotent volition, to move his strength. His own world is full before him; the fulcrum set; but lever there isnone. To such a man, the giving of any boor's resoluteness, withtendons braided, would be as hanging a claymore to Valor's side, before unarmed. Our minds are cunning, compound mechanisms; and onespring, or wheel, or axle wanting, the movement lags, or halts. Cerebrum must not overbalance cerebellum; our brains should be roundas globes; and planted on capacious chests, inhaling mighty morning-inspirations. We have had vast developments of parts of men; but noneof manly wholes. Before a full-developed man, Mardi would fall downand worship. We are idiot, younger-sons of gods, begotten in dotagesdivine; and our mothers all miscarry. Giants are in our germs;but we are dwarfs, staggering under heads overgrown. Heaped, ourmeasures burst. We die of too much life. MEDIA (_to Abrazza_)--Be not impatient, my lord; he'll recoverpresently. You were talking of Lombardo, Babbalanja. BABBALANJA--I was, your Highness. Of all Mardians, by nature, he wasthe most inert. Hast ever seen a yellow lion, all day basking in theyellow sun:--in reveries, rending droves of elephants; but his vastloins supine, and eyelids winking? Such, Lombardo; but fierce Want, the hunter, came and roused his roar. In hairy billows, his great manetossed like the sea; his eyeballs flamed two hells; his paw hadstopped a rolling world. ABRAZZA--In other words, yams were indispensable, and, poor devil, heroared to get them. BABBALANJA (_bowing_)--Partly so, my literal lord. And as with yourown golden scepter, at times upon your royal teeth, indolent tattoosyou beat; then, potent, sway it o'er your isle; so, Lombardo. And ereNecessity plunged spur and rowel into him, he knew not his own paces. _That_ churned him into consciousness; and brought ambition, ere thendormant, seething to the top, till he trembled at himself. No mailedhand lifted up against a traveler in woods, can so, appall, as weourselves. We are full of ghosts and spirits; we are as grave-yardsfull of buried dead, that start to life before us. And all our deadsires, verily, are in us; _that_ is their immortality. From sire toson, we go on multiplying corpses in ourselves; for all of which, areresurrections. Every thought's a soul of some past poet, hero, sage. We are fuller than a city. Woe it is, that reveals these things. Heknows himself, and all that's in him, who knows adversity. To scalegreat heights, we must come out of lowermost depths. The way to heavenis through hell. We need fiery baptisms in the fiercest flames of ourown bosoms. We must feel our hearts hot--hissing in us. And eretheir fire is revealed, it must burn its way out of us; though itconsume us and itself. Oh, sleek-cheeked Plenty! smiling at thine owndimples;--vain for thee to reach out after greatness. Turn! turn! fromall your tiers of cushions of eider-down--turn! and be broken on thewheels of many woes. At white-heat, brand thyself; and count thescars, like old war-worn veterans, over camp-fires. Soft poet!brushing tears from lilies--this way! and howl in sackcloth and inashes! Know, thou, that the lines that live are turned out of afurrowed brow. Oh! there is a fierce, a cannibal delight, in the griefthat shrieks to multiply itself. That grief is miserly of its own; itpities all the happy. Some damned spirits would not be otherwise, could they. ABRAZZA (_to Media_)--Pray, my lord, is this good gentleman a devil? MEDIA. --No, my lord; but he's possessed by one. His name is Azzageddi. You may hear more of him. But come, Babbalanja, hast forgotten allabout Lombardo? How set he about that great undertaking, his Kortanza? ABRAZZA (_to Media_)--Oh, for all the ravings of your Babbalanja, Lombardo took no special pains; hence, deserves small commendation. For, genius must be somewhat like us kings, --calm, content, inconsciousness of power. And to Lombardo, the scheme of his Kortanzamust have come full-fledged, like an eagle from the sun. BABBALANJA--No, your Highness; but like eagles, his thoughts werefirst callow; yet, born plumeless, they came to soar. ABRAZZA--Very fine. I presume, Babbalanja, the first thing he did, was to fast, and invoke the muses. BABBALANJA--Pardon, my lord; on the contrary he first procured a reamof vellum, and some sturdy quills: indispensable preliminaries, myworshipful lords, to the writing of the sublimest epics. ABRAZZA--Ah! then the muses were afterward invoked. BABBALANJA--Pardon again. Lombardo next sat down to a fine plantainpudding. YOOMY--When the song-spell steals over me, I live upon olives. BABBALANJA--Yoomy, Lombardo eschewed olives. Said he, "What fastingsoldier can fight? and the fight of all fights is to write. " In tendays Lombardo had written-- ABRAZZA--Dashed off, you mean. BABBALANJA--He never dashed off aught. ABRAZZA--As you will. BABBALANJA--In ten days, Lombardo had written full fifty folios; heloved huge acres of vellum whereon to expatiate. MEDIA--What then? BABBALANJA--He read them over attentively; made a neat package of thewhole: and put it into the fire. ALL--How? MEDIA--What! these great geniuses writing trash? ABRAZZA--I thought as much. BABBALANJA--My lords, they abound in it! more than any other men inMardi. Genius is full of trash. But genius essays its best to keep itto itself; and giving away its ore, retains the earth; whence, the toofrequent wisdom of its works, and folly of its life. ABRAZZA--Then genius is not inspired, after all. How they must slavein their mines! I weep to think of it. BABBALANJA--My lord, all men are inspired; fools are inspired; yourhighness is inspired; for the essence of all ideas is infused. Ofourselves, and in ourselves, we originate nothing. When Lombardo setabout his work, he knew not what it would become. He did not buildhimself in with plans; he wrote right on; and so doing, got deeper anddeeper into himself; and like a resolute traveler, plunging throughbaffling woods, at last was rewarded for his toils. "In good time, "saith he, in his autobiography, "I came out into a serene, sunny, ravishing region; full of sweet scents, singing birds, wildplaints, roguish laughs, prophetic voices. "Here we are at last, then, " he cried; "I have created the creative. " And now the wholeboundless landscape stretched away. Lombardo panted; the sweat was onhis brow; he off mantle; braced himself; sat within view of the ocean;his face to a cool rushing breeze; placed flowers before him; and gavehimself plenty of room. On one side was his ream of vellum-- ABBRAZZA--And on the other, a brimmed beaker. BABBALANJA--No, your Highness; though he loved it, no wine forLombardo while actually at work. MOHI--Indeed? Why, I ever thought that it was to the superior qualityof Lombardo's punches, that Mardi was indebted for that aboundinghumor of his. BABBALANJA--Not so; he had another way of keeping himself wellbraced. YOOMY--Quick! tell us the secret. BABBALANJA--He never wrote by rush-light. His lamp swung in heaven. --He rose from his East, with the sun; he wrote when all nature wasalive. MOHI--Doubtless, then, he always wrote with a grin; and none laughedlouder at his quips, than Lombardo himself. BABBALANJA--Hear you laughter at the birth of a man child, old man?The babe may have many dimples; not so, the parent. Lombardo was ahermit to behold. MEDIA--What! did Lombardo laugh with a long face? BABBALANJA--His merriment was not always merriment to him, yourHighness. For the most part, his meaning kept him serious. Then he wasso intensely riveted to his work, he could not pause to laugh. MOHI--My word for it; but he had a sly one, now and then. BABBALANJA--For the nonce, he was not his own master: a mereamanuensis writing by dictation. YOOMY--Inspiration, that! BABBALANJA. --Call it as you will, Yoomy, it was a sort of sleep-walking of the mind. Lombardo never threw down his pen: it droppedfrom him; and then, he sat disenchanted: rubbing his eyes; staring;and feeling faint--sometimes, almost unto death. MEDIA--But pray, Babbalanja, tell us how he made acquaintance withsome of those rare worthies, he introduces us to, in his Koztanza. BABBALANJA--He first met them in his reveries; they were walkingabout in him, sour and moody: and for a long time, were shy of hisadvances; but still importuned, they at last grew ashamed of theirreserve; stepped forward; and gave him their hands. After that, theywere frank and friendly. Lombardo set places for them at his board;when he died, he left them something in his will. MEDIA--What! those imaginary beings? ABRAZZA--Wondrous witty! infernal fine! MEDIA--But, Babbalanja; after all, the Koztanza found no favor in theeyes of some Mardians. ABRAZZA--Ay: the arch-critics Verbi and Batho denounced it. BABBALANJA--Yes: on good authority, Verbi is said to have detected asuperfluous comma; and Batho declared that, with the materials hecould have constructed a far better world than Lombardo's. But, didstever hear of his laying his axis? ABRAZZA--But the unities; Babbalanja, the unities! they are whollywanting in the Koztanza. BABBALANJA--Your Highness; upon that point, Lombardo was frank. Saithhe, in his autobiography: "For some time, I endeavored to keep in thegood graces of those nymphs; but I found them so captious, andexacting; they threw me into such a violent passion with their fault-findings; that, at last, I renounced them. " ABRAZZA--Very rash! BABBALANJA--No, your Highness; for though Lombardo abandonedall monitors from without; he retained one autocrat within--hiscrowned and sceptered instinct. And what, if he pulled down one grossworld, and ransacked the etherial spheres, to build up something ofhis own--a composite:--what then? matter and mind, though matchingnot, are mates; and sundered oft, in his Koztanza they unite:--theairy waist, embraced by stalwart arms. MEDIA--Incoherent again! I thought we were to have no more of this! BABBALANJA--My lord Media, there are things infinite in the finite;and dualities in unities. Our eyes are pleased with the redness of therose, but another sense lives upon its fragrance. Its redness you mustapproach, to view: its invisible fragrance pervades the field. So, with the Koztanza. Its mere beauty is restricted to its form: itsexpanding soul, past Mardi does embalm. Modak is Modako; but fogle-foggle is not fugle-fi. MEDIA (_to Abrazza_)--My lord, you start again; but 'tis only anotherphase of Azzageeddi; sometimes he's quite mad. But all this you mustneeds overlook. ABRAZZA--I will, my dear prince; what one can not see through, onemust needs look over, as you say. YOOMY--But trust me, your Highness, some of those strange things fallfar too melodiously upon the ear, to be wholly deficient in meaning. ABRAZZA--Your gentle minstrel, _this_ must be, my lord. ButBabbalanja, the Koztanza lacks cohesion; it is wild, unconnected, allepisode. BABBALANJA--And so is Mardi itself:--nothing but episodes; valleysand hills; rivers, digressing from plains; vines, roving all over;boulders and diamonds; flowers and thistles; forests and thickets;and, here and there, fens and moors. And so, the world in theKoztanza. ABRAZZA--Ay, plenty of dead-desert chapters there; horrible sands towade through. MEDIA--Now, Babbalanja, away with your tropes; and tell us ofthe work, directly it was done. What did Lombardo then? Did he show itto any one for an opinion? BABBALANJA--Yes, to Zenzori; who asked him where he picked up so muchtrash; to Hanto, who bade him not be cast down, it was pretty good; toLucree, who desired to know how much he was going to get for it; toRoddi, who offered a suggestion. MEDIA--And what was that? BABBALANJA--That he had best make a faggot of the whole; and tryagain. ABRAZZA--Very encouraging. MEDIA--Any one else? BABBALANJA--To Pollo; who, conscious his opinion was sought, wasthereby puffed up; and marking the faltering of Lombardo's voice, whenthe manuscript was handed him, straightway concluded, that the man whostood thus trembling at the bar, must needs be inferior to the judge. But his verdict was mild. After sitting up all night over the work;and diligently taking notes:--"Lombardo, my friend! here, take yoursheets. I have run through them loosely. You might have done better;but then you might have done worse. Take them, my friend; I have putin some good things for you:" MEDIA--And who was Pollo? BABBALANJA--Probably some one who lived in Lombardo's time, and wentby that name. He is incidentally mentioned, and cursorily immortalizedin one of the posthumous notes to the Koztanza. MEDIA--What is said of him there? BABBALANJA--Not much. In a very old transcript of the work--that ofAldina--the note alludes to a brave line in the text, and runs thus:--"Diverting to tell, it was this passage that an old prosodist, onePollo, claimed for his own. He maintained he made a free-will offeringof it to Lombardo. Several things are yet extant of this Pollo, whodied some weeks ago. He seems to have been one of those, whowould do great things if they could; but are content to compass thesmall. He imagined, that the precedence of authors he had establishedin his library, was their Mardi order of merit. He condemned thesublime poems of Vavona to his lowermost shelf. 'Ah, ' thought he, 'howwe library princes, lord it over these beggarly authors!' Well read inthe history of their woes, Pollo pitied them all, particularly thefamous; and wrote little essays of his own, which he read to himself. " MEDIA--Well: and what said Lombardo to those good friends of his, --Zenzori, Hanto, and Roddi? BABBALANJA--Nothing. Taking home his manuscript, he glanced it over;making three corrections. ABRAZZA--And what then? BABBALANJA--Then, your Highness, he thought to try a conclave ofprofessional critics; saying to himself, "Let them privately point outto me, now, all my blemishes; so that, what time they come to reviewme in public, all will be well. " But curious to relate, thoseprofessional critics, for the most part, held their peace, concerninga work yet unpublished. And, with some generous exceptions, in theirvague, learned way, betrayed such base, beggarly notions ofauthorship, that Lombardo could have wept, had tears been his. But inhis very grief, he ground his teeth. Muttered he, "They are fools. Intheir eyes, bindings not brains make books. They criticise my tatteredcloak, not my soul, caparisoned like a charger. He is the greatauthor, think they, who drives the best bargain with his wares: and nobargainer am I. Because he is old, they worship some mediocrity of anancient, and mock at the living prophet with the live coal on hislips. They are men who would not be men, had they no books. Theirsires begat them not; but the authors they have read. Feelings theyhave none: and their very opinions they borrow. They can not say yea, nor nay, without first consulting all Mardi as an Encyclopedia. Andall the learning in them, is as a dead corpse in a coffin. Werethey worthy the dignity of being damned, I would damn them; but theyare not. Critics?--Asses! rather mules!--so emasculated, from vanity, they can not father a true thought. Like mules, too, from dunghills, they trample down gardens of roses: and deem that crushed fragrancetheir own. --Oh! that all round the domains of genius should lie thusunhedged, for such cattle to uproot! Oh! that an eagle should bestabbed by a goose-quill! But at best, the greatest reviewers but preyon my leavings. For I am critic and creator; and as critic, in crueltysurpass all critics merely, as a tiger, jackals. For ere Mardi seesaught of mine, I scrutinize it myself, remorseless as a surgeon. I cutright and left; I probe, tear, and wrench; kill, burn, and destroy;and what's left after that, the jackals are welcome to. It is I thatstab false thoughts, ere hatched; I that pull down wall and tower, rejecting materials which would make palaces for others. Oh! couldMardi but see how we work, it would marvel more at our primal chaos, than at the round world thence emerging. It would marvel at ourscaffoldings, scaling heaven; marvel at the hills of earth, banked allround our fabrics ere completed. --How plain the pyramid! In this grandsilence, so intense, pierced by that pointed mass, --could ten thousandslaves have ever toiled? ten thousand hammers rung?--There it stands, --part of Mardi: claiming kin with mountains;--was this thing piecemealbuilt?--It was. Piecemeal?--atom by atom it was laid. The world ismade of mites. " YOOMY (_musing. _)--It is even so. ABRAZZA--Lombardo was severe upon the critics; and they as much soupon him;--of that, be sure. BABBALANGA--Your Highness, Lombardo never presumed to criticise truecritics; who are more rare than true poets. A great critic is a sultanamong satraps; but pretenders are thick as ants, striving to scale apalm, after its aerial sweetness. And they fight among themselves. Essaying to pluck eagles, they themselves are geese, stuck fullof quills, of which they rob each other. ABRAZZA (_to Media. _)--Oro help the victim that falls in Babbalanja'shands! MEDIA. --Ay, my lord; at times, his every finger is a dagger: everythought a falling tower that whelms! But resume, philosopher--what ofLombardo now? BABBALANJA--"For this thing, " said he, "I have agonized over itenough. --I can wait no more. It has faults--all mine;--its merits allits own;--but I can toil no longer. The beings knit to me implore; myheart is full; my brain is sick. Let it go--let it go--and Oro withit. Somewhere Mardi has a mighty heart---_that_ struck, all the islesshall resound!" ABRAZZA--Poor devil! he took the world too hard. MEDIA. -As most of these mortals do, my lord. That's the load, self-imposed, under which Babbalanja reels. But now, philosopher, ere Mardisaw it, what thought Lombardo of his work, looking at it objectively, as a thing out of him, I mean. ABRAZZA--No doubt, he hugged it. BABBALANJA--Hard to answer. Sometimes, when by himself, he thoughthugely of it, as my lord Abrazza says; but when abroad, among men, healmost despised it; but when he bethought him of those parts, writtenwith full eyes, half blinded; temples throbbing; and pain at theheart-- ABRAZZA--Pooh! pooh! BABBALANJA--He would say to himself, "Sure, it can not be in vain!"Yet again, when he bethought him of the hurry and bustle of Mardi, dejection stole over him. "Who will heed it, " thought he; "what carethese fops and brawlers for me? But am I not myself an egregiouscoxcomb? Who will read me? Say one thousand pages--twenty-five lineseach--every line ten words--every word ten letters. That's two millionfive hundred thousand _a_'s, and _i_'s, and _o_'s to read! Howmany are superfluous? Am I not mad to saddle Mardi with such a task?Of all men, am I the wisest, to stand upon a pedestal, and teach themob? Ah, my own Kortanza! child of many prayers!--in whose earnesteyes, so fathomless, I see my own; and recall all past delights andsilent agonies-thou may'st prove, as the child of some fond dotard:--beauteous to me; hideous to Mardi! And methinks, that while so muchslaving merits that thou should'st not die; it has not been intense, prolonged enough, for the high meed of immortality. Yet, thingsimmortal have been written; and by men as me;--men, who slept andwaked; and ate; and talked with tongues like mine. Ah, Oro! how may weknow or not, we are what we would be? Hath genius any stamp andimprint, obvious to possessors? Has it eyes to see itself; or is itblind? Or do we delude ourselves with being gods, and end in grubs?Genius, genius?--a thousand years hence, to be a household-word?--I?--Lombardo? but yesterday cut in the market-place by a spangled fool!--Lombardo immortal?--Ha, ha, Lombardo! but thou art an ass, with vastears brushing the tops of palms! Ha, ha, ha! Methinks I see theeimmortal! 'Thus great Lombardo saith; and thus; and thus; and thus:--thus saith he--illustrious Lombardo!--Lombardo, our great countryman!Lombardo, prince of poets--Lombardo! great Lombardo!'--Ha, ha, ha!--go, go! dig thy grave, and bury thyself!" ABRAZZA--He was very funny, then, at times. BABBALANJA--Very funny, your Highness:--amazing jolly! And from mynethermost soul, would to Oro, thou could'st but feel one touch ofthat jolly woe! It would appall thee, my Right Worshipful lordAbrazza! ABRAZZA (_to Media_)--My dear lord, his teeth are marvelously whiteand sharp: some she-shark must have been his dam:--does he often grinthus? It was infernal! MEDIA--Ah! that's Azzageddi. But, prithee, Babbalanja, proceed. BABBALANJA--Your Highness, even in his calmer critic moods, Lombardowas far from fancying his work. He confesses, that it ever seemed tohim but a poor scrawled copy of something within, which, do what hewould, he could not completely transfer. "My canvas was small, " saidhe; "crowded out were hosts of things that came last. But Fate is init. " And Fate it was, too, your Highness, which forced Lombardo, erehis work was well done, to take it off his easel, and send it to bemultiplied. "Oh, that I was not thus spurred!" cried he; "but likemany another, in its very childhood, this poor child of mine must goout into Mardi, and get bread for its sire. " ABRAZZA (_with a sigh_)--Alas, the poor devil! But methinks 'twaswondrous arrogant in him to talk to all Mardi at that lofty rate. --Didhe think himself a god? BABBALANJA--He himself best knew what he thought; but, like allothers, he was created by Oro to some special end; doubtless, partlyanswered in his Koztanza. MEDIA--And now that Lombardo is long dead and gone--and his work, hooted during life, lives after him--what think the present company ofit? Speak, my lord Abrazza! Babbalanja! Mohi! Yoomy! ABRAZZA (_tapping his sandal with his scepter__)--I never read it. BABBALANJA (_looking upward_)--It was written with a divine intent. Mohi (_stroking his beard_)--I never hugged it in a corner, andignored it before Mardi. Yoomy (_musing_)--It has bettered my heart. MEDIA (_rising_)--And I have read it through nine times. BABBALANJA (_starting up_)--Ah, Lombardo! this must make thy ghostglad! CHAPTER LXXVIIThey Sup There seemed something sinister, hollow, heartless, about Abrazza, andthat green-and-yellow, evil-starred crown that he wore. But why think of that? Though we like not something in the curve ofone's brow, or distrust the tone of his voice; yet, let us away withsuspicions if we may, and make a jolly comrade of him, in the name ofthe gods. Miserable! thrice miserable he, who is forever turning overand over one's character in his mind, and weighing by niceavoirdupois, the pros and the cons of his goodness and badness. For weare all good and bad. Give me the heart that's huge as all Asia; andunless a man, be a villain outright, account him one of the besttempered blades in the world. That night, in his right regal hall, King Abrazza received us. And inmerry good time a fine supper was spread. Now, in thus nocturnally regaling us, our host was warranted by manyancient and illustrious examples. For old Jove gave suppers; the god Woden gave suppers; the Hindoodeity Brahma gave suppers; the Red Man's Great Spirit gave suppers:--chiefly venison and game. And many distinguished mortals besides. Ahasuerus gave suppers; Xerxes gave suppers; Montezuma gave suppers;Powhattan gave suppers; the Jews' Passovers were suppers; the Pharaohsgave suppers; Julius Caesar gave suppers:--and rare ones they were;Great Pompey gave suppers; Nabob Crassus gave suppers; andHeliogabalus, surnamed the Gobbler, gave suppers. It was a common saying of old, that King Pluto gave suppers; some sayhe is giving them still. If so, he is keeping tip-top company, oldPluto:--Emperors and Czars; Great Moguls and Great Khans; Grand Lamasand Grand Dukes; Prince Regents and Queen Dowagers:--Tamerlane hob-a-nobbing with Bonaparte; Antiochus with Solyman the Magnificent;Pisistratus pledging Pilate; Semiramis eating bon-bons with BloodyMary, and her namesake of Medicis; the Thirty Tyrants quaffing threeto one with the Council of Ten; and Sultans, Satraps, Viziers, Hetmans, Soldans, Landgraves, Bashaws, Doges, Dauphins, Infantas, Incas, and Caciques looking on. Again: at Arbela, the conqueror of conquerors, conquering son ofOlympia by Jupiter himself, sent out cards to his captains, --Hephestion, Antigonus, Antipater, and the rest--to join him at ten, p. M. , in the Temple of Belus; there, to sit down to a victorioussupper, off the gold plate of the Assyrian High Priests. Howmajestically he poured out his old Madeira that night!--feeling grandand lofty as the Himmalehs; yea, all Babylon nodded her towers in hissoul! Spread, heaped up, stacked with good things; and redolent of citronsand grapes, hilling round tall vases of wine; and here and there, waving with fresh orange-boughs, among whose leaves, myriads of smalltapers gleamed like fire-flies in groves, --Abrazza's glorious boardshowed like some banquet in Paradise: Ceres and Pomona presiding; andjolly Bacchus, like a recruit with a mettlesome rifle, staggering backas he fires off the bottles of vivacious champagne. In ranges, roundabout stood living candelabras:--lackeys, gaylybedecked, with tall torches in their hands; and at one end, stoodtrumpeters, bugles at their lips. "This way, my dear Media!--this seat at my left--Noble Taji!--myright. Babbalanja!--Mohi--where you are. But where's pretty Yoomy?--Gone to meditate in the moonlight? ah!--Very good. Let thebanquet begin. A blast there!" And charge all did. The venison, wild boar's meat, and buffalo-humps, were extraordinary;the wine, of rare vintages, like bottled lightning; and the firstcourse, a brilliant affair, went off like a rocket. But as yet, Babbalanja joined not in the revels. His mood was on him;and apart he sat; silently eyeing the banquet; and ever and anonmuttering, --"Fogle-foggle, fugle-fi. --" The first fury of the feast over, said King Media, pouring out from aheavy flagon into his goblet, "Abrazza, these suppers are wondrousfine things. " "Ay, my dear lord, much better than dinners. " "So they are, so they are. The dinner-hour is the summer of the day:full of sunshine, I grant; but not like the mellow autumn of supper. Adinner, you know, may go off rather stiffly; but invariably suppersare jovial. At dinners, 'tis not till you take in sail, furl thecloth, bow the lady-passengers out, and make all snug; 'tis not tillthen, that one begins to ride out the gale with complacency. But atthese suppers--Good Oro! your cup is empty, my dear demi-god!--But atthese suppers, I say, all is snug and ship-shape before you begin; andwhen you begin, you waive the beginning, and begin in the middle. Andas for the cloth, --but tell us, Braid-Beard, what that old king ofFranko, Ludwig the Fat, said of that matter. The cloth for suppers, you know. It's down in your chronicles. " "My lord, "--wiping his beard, --"Old Ludwig was of opinion, that atsuppers the cloth was superfluous, unless on the back of some jollygood friar. Said he, 'For one, I prefer sitting right down to theunrobed table. '" "High and royal authority, that of Ludwig the Fat, " said Babbalanja, "far higher than the authority of Ludwig the Great:--the one, onlygreat by courtesy; the other, fat beyond a peradventure. Butthey are equally famous; and in their graves, both on a par. For afterdevouring many a fair province, and grinding the poor of his realm, Ludwig the Great has long since, himself, been devoured by very smallworms, and ground into very fine dust. And after stripping many avenison rib, Ludwig the Fat has had his own polished and bleached inthe Valley of Death; yea, and his cranium chased with corrodings, likethe carved flagon once held to its jaws. " "My lord! my lord!"--cried Abrazza to Media--"this ghastly devil ofyours grins worse than a skull. I feel the worms crawling over me!--ByOro we must eject him!" "No, no, my lord. Let him sit there, as of old the Death's-head gracedthe feasts of the Pharaohs--let him sit--let him sit--for Death butimparts a flavor to Life--Go on: wag your tongue without fear, Azzageddi!--But come, Braid-Beard! let's hear more of the Ludwigs. " "Well, then, your Highness, of all the eighteen royal Ludwigs ofFranko--" "Who like so many ten-pins, all in a row, " interposed Babbalanja--"have been bowled off the course by grim Death. " "Heed him not, " said Media--"go on. " "The Debonnaire, the Pious, the Stammerer, the Do-Nothing, theJuvenile, the Quarreler:--of all these, I say, Ludwig the Fat was thebest table-man of them all. Such a full orbed paunch was his, that noway could he devise of getting to his suppers, but by getting rightinto them. Like the Zodiac his table was circular, and full in themiddle he sat, like a sun;--all his jolly stews and ragouts revolvingaround him. " "Yea, " said Babbalanja, "a very round sun was Ludwig the Fat. Nowonder he's down in the chronicles; several ells about the waist, andKing of cups and Tokay. Truly, a famous king: three hundred-weight oflard, with a diadem on top: lean brains and a fat doublet--ademijohn of a demi-god!" "Is this to be longer borne?" cried Abrazza, starting up. "Quaff thatsneer down, devil! on the instant! down with it, to the dregs! Thiscomes, my lord Media, of having a slow drinker at one's board. Like aniceberg, such a fellow frosts the whole atmosphere of a banquet, andis felt a league off We must thrust him out. Guards!" "Back! touch him not, hounds!"--cried Media. "Your pardon, my lord, but we'll keep him to it; and melt him down in this good wine. Drink!I command it, drink, Babbalanja!" "And am I not drinking, my lord? Surely you would not that I shouldimbibe more than I can hold. The measure being full, all poured inafter that is but wasted. I am for being temperate in these things, mygood lord. And my one cup outlasts three of yours. Better to sip apint, than pour down a quart. All things in moderation are good;whence, wine in moderation is good. But all things in excess are bad:whence wine in excess is bad. " "Away with your logic and conic sections! Drink!--But no, no: I am toosevere. For of all meals a supper should be the most social and free. And going thereto we kings, my lord, should lay aside our scepters. --Do as you please Babbalanja. " "You are right, you are right, after all, my dear demi-god, " saidAbrazza. "And to say truth, I seldom worry myself with the ways ofthese mortals; for no thanks do we demi-gods get. We kings should beever indifferent. Nothing like a cold heart; warm ones are everchafing, and getting into trouble. I let my mortals here in this isletake heed to themselves; only barring them out when they would thrustin their petitions. This very instant, my lord, my yeoman-guard is onduty without, to drive off intruders. --Hark!--what noise is that?--Ho, who comes?" At that instant, there burst into the hall, a crowd ofspearmen, driven before a pale, ragged rout, that loudlyinvoked King Abrazza. "Pardon, my lord king, for thus forcing an entrance! But long in vainhave we knocked at thy gates! Our grievances are more than we canbear! Give ear to our spokesman, we beseech!" And from their tumultuous midst, they pushed forward a tall, grim, pine-tree of a fellow, who loomed up out of the throng, like the Peakof Teneriffe among the Canaries in a storm. "Drive the knaves out! Ho, cowards, guards, turn about! charge uponthem! Away with your grievances! Drive them out, I say, drive themout!--High times, truly, my lord Media, when demi-gods are thusannoyed at their wine. Oh, who would reign over mortals!" So at last, with much difficulty, the ragged rout were ejected; thePeak of Teneriffe going last, a pent storm on his brow; and mutteringabout some black time that was corning. While the hoarse murmurs without still echoed through the hall, KingAbrazza refilling his cup thus spoke:--"You were saying, my dear lord, that of all meals a supper is the most social and free. Very true. Andof all suppers those given by us bachelor demi-gods are the best. Arethey not?" "They are. For Benedict mortals must be home betimes: bachelor demi-gods are never away. " "Ay, your Highnesses, bachelors are all the year round at home;" saidMohi: "sitting out life in the chimney corner, cozy and warm as thedog, whilome turning the old-fashioned roasting jack. " "And to us bachelor demi-gods, " cried Media "our to-morrows are aslong rows of fine punches, ranged on a board, and waiting the hand. " "But my good lords, " said Babbalanja, now brightening with wine; "if, of all suppers those given by bachelors be the best:--of allbachelors, are not your priests and monks the jolliest? I mean, behindthe scenes? Their prayers all said, and their futurities securelyinvested, --who so carefree and cozy as they? Yea, a supper for two ina friar's cell in Maramma, is merrier far, than a dinner for five-and-twenty, in the broad right wing of Donjalolo's great Palace of the Morn. " "Bravo, Babbalanja!" cried Media, "your iceberg is thawing. More ofthat, more of that. Did I not say, we would melt him down at last, mylord?" "Ay, " continued Babbalanja, "bachelors are a noble fraternity: I'm abachelor myself. One of ye, in that matter, my lord demi-gods. And ifunlike the patriarchs of the world, we father not our brigades andbattalions; and send not out into the battles of our country wholeregiments of our own individual raising;--yet do we oftentimes leavebehind us goodly houses and lands; rare old brandies and mountainMalagas; and more especially, warm doublets and togas, andspatterdashes, wherewithal to keep comfortable those who survive us;--casing the legs and arms, which others beget. Then compare notinvidiously Benedicts with bachelors, since thus we make an equaldivision of the duties, which both owe to posterity. " "Suppers forever!" cried Media. "See, my lord, what yours has done forBabbalanja. He came to it a skeleton; but will go away, every bonepadded!" "Ay, my lord demi-gods, " said Babbalanja, drop by drop refilling hisgoblet. "These suppers are all very fine, very pleasant, and merry. But we pay for them roundly. Every thing, my good lords, has itsprice, from a marble to a world. And easier of digestion, and betterfor both body and soul, are a half-haunch of venison and a gallon ofmead, taken under the sun at meridian, than the soft bridal breast ofa partridge, with some gentle negus, at the noon of night!" "No lie that!" said Mohi. "Beshrew me, in no well-appointedmansion doth the pantry lie adjoining the sleeping chamber. A goodthought: I'll fill up, and ponder on it. " "Let not Azzageddi get uppermost again, Babbalanja, " cried Media. "Your goblet is only half-full. " "Permit it to remain so; my lord. For whoso takes much wine to bedwith him, has a bedfellow, more restless than a somnambulist. Andthough Wine be a jolly blade at the board, a sulky knave is he under ablanket. I know him of old. Yet, your Highness, for all this, to manya Mardian, suppers are still better than dinners, at whatever costpurchased Forasmuch, as many have more leisure to sup, than dine. Andthough you demi-gods, may dine at your ease; and dine it out intonight: and sit and chirp over your Burgundy, till the morning larksjoin your crickets, and wed matins to vespers;--far otherwise, with usplebeian mortals. From our dinners, we must hie to our anvils: and thelast jolly jorum evaporates in a cark and a care. " "Methinks he relapses, " said Abrazza. "It waxes late, " said Mohi; "your Highnesses, is it not time to breakup?" "No, no!", cried Abrazza; "let the day break when it will: but nobreakings for us. It's only midnight. This way with the wine; pass italong, my dear Media. We are young yet, my sweet lord; light heartsand heavy purses; short prayers and long rent-rolls. Pass round theTokay! We demi-gods have all our old age for a dormitory. Come!--Roundand round with the flagons! Let them disappear like mile-stones on arace-course!" "Ah!" murmured Babbalanja, holding his full goblet at arm's length onthe board, "not thus with the hapless wight, born with a hamper on hisback, and blisters in his palms. --Toil and sleep--sleep and toil, arehis days and his nights; he goes to bed with a lumbago, and wakes withthe rheumatics;--I know what it is;--he snatches lunches, not dinners, and makes of all life a cold snack! Yet praise be to Oro, though to such men dinners are scarce worth the eating; nevertheless, praise Oro again, a good supper is something. Off jack-boots; nay, offshirt, if you will, and go at it. Hurrah! the fagged day is done: thelast blow is an echo. Twelve long hours to sunrise! And would it werean Antarctic night, and six months to to-morrow! But, hurrah! the verybees have their hive, and after a day's weary wandering, hie home totheir honey. So they stretch out their stiff legs, rub their lameelbows, and putting their tired right arms in a sling, set the othersto fetching and carrying from dishes to dentals, from foaming flagonto the demijohn which never pours out at the end you pour in. Ah!after all, the poorest devil in Mardi lives not in vain. There's asoft side to the hardest oak-plank in the world!" "Methinks I have heard some such sentimental gabble as this beforefrom my slaves, my lord, " said Abrazza to Media. "It has the oldgibberish flavor. " "Gibberish, your Highness? Gibberish? I'm full of it--I'm a gibberingghost, my right worshipful lord! Here, pass your hand through me--here, _here_, and scorch it where I most burn. By Oro! King! but Iwill gibe and gibber at thee, till thy crown feels like another skullclapped on thy own. Gibberish? ay, in hell we'll gibber in concert, king! we'll howl, and roast, and hiss together!" "Devil that thou art, begone! Ho, guards! seize him!" "Back, curs!" cried Media. "Harm not a hair of his head. I cravepardon, King Abrazza, but no violence must be done Babbalanja. " "Trumpets there!" said Abrazza; "so: the banquet is done--lights forKing Media! Good-night, my lord!" Now, thus, for the nonce, with good cheer, we close. And after manyfine dinners and banquets--through light and through shade; throughmirth, sorrow, and all--drawing nigh to the evening end of thesewanderings wild--meet is it that all should be regaled with a supper. CHAPTER LXXVIIIThey Embark Next morning, King Abrazza sent frigid word to Media that the day wasvery fine for yachting; but he much regretted that indisposition wouldprevent his making one of the party, who that morning doubtless woulddepart his isle. "My compliments to your king, " said Media to the chamberlains, "andsay the royal notice to quit was duly received. " "Take Azzageddi's also, " said Babbalanja; "and say, I hope hisHighness will not fail in his appointment with me:--the first midnightafter he dies; at the grave-yard corner;--there I'll be, and grin again!" Sailing on, the next land we saw was thickly wooded: hedged roundabout by mangrove trees; which growing in the water, yet lifted hightheir boughs. Here and there were shady nooks, half verdure and halfwater. Fishes rippled, and canaries sung. "Let us break through, my lord, " said Yoomy, "and seek the shore. Itssolitudes must prove reviving. " "Solitudes they are, " cried Mohi. "Peopled but not enlivened, " said Babbalanja. "Hard landing here, minstrel! see you not the isle is hedged?" "Why, break through, then, " said Media. "Yillah is not here. " "I mistrusted it, " sighed Yoomy; "an imprisoned island! full ofuncomplaining woes: like many others we must have glided by, unheedingly. Yet of them have I heard. This isle many pass, markingits outward brightness, but dreaming not of the sad secretshere embowered. Haunt of the hopeless! In those inland woods broodMardians who have tasted Mardi, and found it bitter--the draught sosweet to others!--maidens whose unimparted bloom has cankered in thebud; and children, with eyes averted from life's dawn--like those new-oped morning blossoms which, foreseeing storms, turn and close. " "Yoomy's rendering of the truth, " said Mohi. "Why land, then?" said Media. "No merry man of sense--no demi-god likeme, will do it. Let's away; let's see all that's pleasant, or thatseems so, in our circuit, and, if possible, shun the sad. " "Then we have circled not the round reef wholly, " said Babbalanja, "but made of it a segment. For this is far from being the first sadland, my lord, that we have slighted at your instance. " "No more. I will have no gloom. A chorus! there, ye paddlers! spreadall your sails; ply paddles; breeze up, merry winds!" And so, in the saffron sunset, we neared another shore. A gloomy-looking land! black, beetling crags, rent by volcanic clefts;ploughed up with water-courses, and dusky with charred woods. Thebeach was strewn with scoria and cinders; in dolorous soughs, a chillwind blew; wails issued from the caves; and yellow, spooming surges, lashed the moaning strand. "Shall we land?" said Babbalanja. "Not here, " cried Yoomy; "no Yillah here. " "No, " said Media. "This is another of those lands far better toavoid. " "Know ye not, " said Mohi, "that here are the mines of King Klanko, whose scourged slaves, toiling in their pits, so nigh approach thevolcano's bowels, they hear its rumblings? 'Yet they must work on, 'cries Klanko, 'the mines still yield!' And daily his slaves' bones arebrought above ground, mixed with the metal masses. " "Set all sail there, men! away!" "My lord, " said Babbalanja; "still must we shim the unmitigated evil;and only view the good; or evil so mixed therewith, the mixture'sboth?" Half vailed in misty clouds, the harvest-moon now rose; and in thatpale and haggard light, all sat silent; each man in his own secretmood: best knowing his own thoughts. CHAPTER LXXIXBabbalanja At The Full Of The Moon "Ho, mortals! Go we to a funeral, that our paddles seem thus muffled?Up heart, Taji! or does that witch Hautia haunt thee? Be a demi-godonce more, and laugh. Her flowers are not barbs; and the avengers'arrows are too blunt to slay. Babbalanja! Mohi! Yoomy! up heart! upheart!--By Oro! I will debark the whole company on the next land wemeet. No tears for me. Ha, ha! let us laugh. Ho, Vee-Vee! awake;quick, boy, --some wine! and let us make glad, beneath the glad moon. Look! it is stealing forth from its clouds. Perdition to Hautia! Longlives, and merry ones to ourselves! Taji, my charming fellow, here'sto you:--May your heart be a stone! Ha, ha!--will nobody join me? Mylaugh is lonely as his who laughed in his tomb. Come, laugh; will noone quaff wine, I say? See! the round moon is abroad. " "Say you so, my lord? then for one, I am with you;" cried Babbalanja. "Fill me a brimmer. Ah! but this wine leaps through me like a panther. Ay, let us laugh: let us roar: let us yell! What, if I was sad butjust now? Life is an April day, that both laughs and weeps in abreath. But whoso is wise, laughs when he can. Men fly from a groan;but run to a laugh. Vee-Vee! your gourd. My lord, let me help you. Ah, how it sparkles! Cups, cups, Vee-Vee, more cups! Here, Taji, takethat: Mohi, take that: Yoomy, take that. And now let us drown awaygrief. Ha! ha! the house of mourning, is deserted, though of old goodcheer kept the funeral guests; and so keep I mine; here I sitby my dead, and replenish your wine cups. Old Mohi, your cup: Yoomy, yours: ha! ha! let us laugh, let us scream! Weeds are put off at afair; no heart bursts but in secret; it is good to laugh, though thelaugh be hollow; and wise to make merry, now and for aye. Laugh, andmake friends: weep, and they go. Women sob, and are rid of theirgrief: men laugh, and retain it. There is laughter in heaven, andlaughter in hell. And a deep thought whose language is laughter. Though wisdom be wedded to woe, though the way thereto is by tears, yet all ends in a shout. But wisdom wears no weeds; woe is more merrythan mirth; 'tis a shallow grief that is sad. Ha! ha! how demoniacsshout; how all skeletons grin; we all die with a rattle. Laugh! laugh!Are the cherubim grave? Humor, thy laugh is divine; whence, mirth-making idiots have been revered; and therefore may I. Ho! let us begay, if it be only for an hour, and Death hand us the goblet. Vee-Vee!bring on your gourds! Let us pledge each other in bumpers!--let uslaugh, laugh, laugh it out to the last. All sages have laughed, --letus; Bardianna laughed, let us; Demorkriti laughed, --let us: Amoreelaughed, --let us; Rabeelee roared, --let us; the hyenas grin, thejackals yell, --let us. --But you don't laugh, my lord? laugh away!" "No, thank you, Azzageddi, not after that infernal fashion; betterweep. " "He makes me crawl all over, as if I were an ant-hill, " said Mohi. "He's mad, mad, mad!" cried Yoomy. "Ay, mad, mad, mad!--mad as the mad fiend that rides me!--But come, sweet minstrel, wilt list to a song?--We madmen are all poets, youknow:--Ha! ha!-- Stars laugh in the sky: Oh fugle-fi I The waves dimple below: Oh fugle-fo! "The wind strikes her dulcimers; the groves give a shout; thehurricane is only an hysterical laugh; and the lightning that blasts, blasts only in play. We must laugh or we die; to laugh is to live. Notto laugh is to have the tetanus. Will you weep? then laugh while youweep. For mirth and sorrow are kin; are published by identical nerves. Go, Yoomy: go study anatomy: there is much to be learned from thedead, more than you may learn from the living and I am dead though Ilive; and as soon dissect myself as another; I curiously look into mysecrets: and grope under my ribs. I have found that the heart is notwhole, but divided; that it seeks a soft cushion whereon to repose;that it vitalizes the blood; which else were weaker than water: I havefound that we can not live without hearts; though the heartless livelongest. Yet hug your hearts, ye handful that have them; 'tis ablessed inheritance! Thus, thus, my lord, I run on; from one pole tothe other; from this thing to that. But so the great world goes round, and in one Somerset, shows the sun twenty-five thousand miles of alandscape!" At that instant, down went the fiery full-moon, and the Dog-Star; andfar down into Media, a Tivoli of wine. CHAPTER LXXXMorning Life or death, weal or woe, the sun stays not his course. On: overbattle-field and bower; over tower, and town, he speeds, --peers in atbirths, and death-beds; lights up cathedral, mosque, and paganshrine;--laughing over all;--a very Democritus in the sky; and in onebrief day sees more than any pilgrim in a century's round. So, the sun; nearer heaven than we:--with what mind, then, may blessedOro downward look. It was a purple, red, and yellow East;--streaked, and crossed. Anddown from breezy mountains, robust and ruddy Morning came, --a plaidedHighlander, waving his plumed bonnet to the isles. Over the neighboring groves the larks soared high; and soaring, sangin jubilees; while across our bows, between two isles, a mighty mooseswam stately as a seventy-four; and backward tossed his antleredwilderness in air. Just bounding from fresh morning groves, with the brine he mixed thedew of leaves, --his antlers dripping on the swell, that rippled beforehis brown and bow-like chest. "Five hundred thousand centuries since, " said Babbalanja, "this samesight was seen. With Oro, the sun is co-eternal; and the same lifethat moves that moose, animates alike the sun and Oro. All are partsof One. In me, in _me_, flit thoughts participated by the beingspeopling all the stars. Saturn, and Mercury, and Mardi, are brothers, one and all; and across their orbits, to each other talk, like souls. Of these things what chapters might be writ! Oh! that flesh can notkeep pace with spirit. Oh! that these myriad germ-dramas in me, should so perish hourly, for lack of power mechanic. --Worlds passworlds in space, as men, men, --in thoroughfares; and after periods ofthousand years, cry:--"Well met, my friend, again!"--To me to _me_, they talk in mystic music; I hear them think through all their zones. --Hail, furthest worlds! and all the beauteous beings in ye! Fan me, sweet Zenora! with thy twilight wings!--Ho! let's voyage toAldebaran. --Ha! indeed, a ruddy world! What a buoyant air! Not like toMardi, this. Ruby columns: minarets of amethyst: diamond domes! Who isthis?--a god? What a lake-like brow! transparent as the morning air. Isee his thoughts like worlds revolving--and in his eyes--like untoheavens--soft falling stars are shooting. --How these thousand passingwings winnow away my breath:--I faint:--back, back to some smallasteroid. --Sweet being! if, by Mardian word I may address thee--speak!--'I bear a soul in germ within me; I feel the first, fainttrembling, like to a harp-string, vibrate in my inmost being. Kill me, and generations die. '--So, of old, the unbegotten lived within thevirgin; who then loved her God, as new-made mothers their babes ereborn. Oh, Alma, Alma, Alma!--Fangs off, fiend!--will that name everlash thee into foam?--Smite not my face so, forked flames!" "Babbalanja! Babbalanja! rouse, man! rouse! Art in hell and damned, that thy sinews so snake-like coil and twist all over thee? Thy browis black as Ops! Turn, turn! see yonder moose!" "Hail! mighty brute!--thou feelest not these things: never canst_thou_ be damned. Moose! would thy soul were mine; for if thatscorched thing, mine, be immortal--so thine; and thy life hath not theconsciousness of death. I read profound placidity--deep--million--violet fathoms down, in that soft, pathetic, woman eye! What is man'sshrunk form to thine, thou woodland majesty?--Moose, moose!--my soulis shot again--Oh, Oro! Oro!" "He falls!" cried Media. "Mark the agony in his waning eye, " said Yoomy;--"alas, poorBabbalanja! Is this thing of madness conscious to thyself? If everthou art sane again, wilt thou have reminiscences? Take my robe:--here, I strip me to cover thee and all thy woes. Oro! by this, thybeing's side, I kneel:--grant death or happiness to Babbalanja!" CHAPTER LXXXIL'ultima Sera Thus far, through myriad islands, had we searched: of all, no one penmay write: least, mine;--and still no trace of Yillah. But though my hopes revived not from their ashes; yet, so much ofMardi had we searched, it seemed as if the long pursuit must, ere manymoons, be ended; whether for weal or woe, my frenzy sometimes reeked not. After its first fair morning flushings, all that day was overcast. Wesailed upon an angry sea, beneath an angry sky. Deep scowled on deep;and in dun vapors, the blinded sun went down, unseen; though fulltoward the West our three prows were pointed; steadfast as threeprinted points upon the compass-card. "When we set sail from Odo, 'twas a glorious morn in spring, " saidYoomy; "toward the rising sun we steered. But now, beneath autumnalnight-clouds, we hasten to its setting. " "How now?" cried Media; "why is the minstrel mournful?--He whose placeit is to chase away despondency: not be its minister. " "Ah, my lord, so _thou_ thinkest. But better can my verses soothe thesad, than make them light of heart. Nor are we minstrels so gay ofsoul as Mardi deems us. The brook that sings the sweetest, murmursthrough the loneliest woods: The isles hold thee not, thou departed! From thy bower, now issues no lay:-- In vain we recall perished warblings: Spring birds, to far climes, wing their way!" As Yoomy thus sang; unmindful of the lay, with paddle plying, in low, pleasant tones, thus hummed to himself our bowsman, a gamesome wight:-- Ho! merrily ho! we paddlers sail! Ho! over sea-dingle, and dale!-- Our pulses fly, Our hearts beat high, Ho! merrily, merrily, ho! But a sudden splash, and a shrill, gurgling sound, like that of afountain subsiding, now broke upon the air. Then all was still, savethe rush of the waves by our keels. "Save him! Put back!" From his elevated seat, the merry bowsman, too gleefully reachingforward, had fallen into the lagoon. With all haste, our speeding canoes were reversed; but not till we haddarted in upon another darkness than that in which the bowsman fell. As, blindly, we groped back, deep Night dived deeper down in the sea. "Drop paddles all, and list. " Holding their breath, over the six gunwales all now leaned; but theonly moans were the wind's. Long time we lay thus; then slowly crossed and recrossed our track, almost hopeless; but yet loth to leave him who, with a song in hismouth, died and was buried in a breath. "Let us away, " said Media--"why seek more? He is gone. " "Ay, gone, " said Babbalanja, "and whither? But a moment since, he wasamong us: now, the fixed stars are not more remote than he. So faroff, can he live? Oh, Oro! this death thou ordainest, unmans themanliest. Say not nay, my lord. Let us not speak behind Death's back. Hard and horrible is it to die: blindfold to leap from life's verge!But thus, in clouds of dust, and with a trampling as of hoofs, thegenerations disappear; death driving them all into his treacherousfold, as wild Indians the bison herds. Nay, nay, Death isLife's last despair. Hard and horrible is it to die. Oro himself, inAlma, died not without a groan. Yet why, why live? Life is wearisometo all: the same dull round. Day and night, summer and winter, roundabout us revolving for aye. One moment lived, is a life. No new starsappear in the sky; no new lights in the soul. Yet, of changes thereare many. For though, with rapt sight, in childhood, we behold manystrange things beneath the moon, and all Mardi looks a tented fair--how soon every thing fades. All of us, in our very bodies, outlive ourown selves. I think of green youth as of a merry playmate departed;and to shake hands, and be pleasant with my old age, seems in prospecteven harder, than to draw a cold stranger to my bosom. But old age isnot for me. I am not of the stuff that grows old. This Mardi is notour home. Up and down we wander, like exiles transported to a planetafar:--'tis not the world _we_ were born in; not the world once solightsome and gay; not the world where we once merrily danced, dined, and supped; and wooed, and wedded our long-buried wives. Then let usdepart. But whither? We push ourselves forward then, start back inaffright. Essay it again, and flee. Hard to live; hard to die;intolerable suspense! But the grim despot at last interposes; and witha viper in our winding-sheets, we are dropped in the sea. " "To me, " said Mohi, his gray locks damp with night-dews, "death's darkdefile at times seems at hand, with no voice to cheer. That all havedied, makes it not easier for me to depart. And that many have beenquenched in infancy seems a mercy to the slow perishing of my old age, limb by limb and sense by sense. I have long been the tomb of myyouth. And more has died out of me, already, than remains for the lastdeath to finish. Babbalanja says truth. In childhood, death stirred menot; in middle age, it pursued me like a prowling bandit on the road;now, grown an old man, it boldly leads the way; and ushers meon; and turns round upon me its skeleton gaze: poisoning thelast solaces of life. Maramma but adds to my gloom. " "Death! death!" cried Yoomy, "must I be not, and millions be? Must Igo, and the flowers still bloom? Oh, I have marked what it is to bedead;--how shouting boys, of holidays, hide-and-seek among the tombs, which must hide all seekers at last. " "Clouds on clouds!" cried Media, "but away with them all! Why not leapyour graves, while ye may? Time to die, when death comes, withoutdying by inches. 'Tis no death, to die; the only death is the fear ofit. I, a demi-god, fear death not. " "But when the jackals howl round you?" said Babbalanja. "Drive them off! Die the demi-god's death! On his last couch ofcrossed spears, my brave old sire cried, 'Wine, wine; strike up, conchand cymbal; let the king die to martial melodies!'" "More valiant dying, than dead, " said Babbalanja. "Our end of thewinding procession resounds with music and flaunts with banners withbrave devices: 'Cheer up!' 'Fear not!' 'Millions have died before!'--but in the endless van, not a pennon streams; all there, is silent andsolemn. The last wisdom is dumb. " Silence ensued; during which, each dip of the paddles in the now calmwater, fell full and long upon the ear. Anon, lifting his head, Babbalanja thus:--"Yillah still eludes us. Andin all this tour of Mardi, how little have we found to fill the heartwith peace: how much to slaughter all our yearnings. " "Croak no more, raven!" cried Media. "Mardi is full of spring-timesights, and jubilee sounds. I never was sad in my life. " "But for thy one laugh, my lord, how many groans! Were all happy, orall miserable, --more tolerable then, than as it is. But happiness andmisery are so broadly marked, that this Mardi may be theretributive future of some forgotten past. --Yet vain our surmises. Still vainer to say, that all Mardi is but a means to an end; thatthis life is a state of probation: that evil is but permitted for aterm; that for specified ages a rebel angel is viceroy. --Nay, nay. Orodelegates his scepter to none; in his everlasting reign there are nointerregnums; and Time is Eternity; and we live in Eternity now. Yet, some tell of a hereafter, where all the mysteries of life will beover; and the sufferings of the virtuous recompensed. Oro is just, they say. --Then always, --now, and evermore. But to make restitutionimplies a wrong; and Oro can do no wrong. Yet what seems evil to us, may be good to him. If he fears not, nor hopes, --he has no otherpassion; no ends, no purposes. He lives content; all ends arecompassed in Him; He has no past, no future; He is the everlastingnow; which is an everlasting calm; and things that are, have been, --will be. This gloom's enough. But hoot! hoot! the night-owl rangesthrough the woodlands of Maramma; its dismal notes pervade our lives;and when we would fain depart in peace, that bird flies on before:--cloud-like, eclipsing our setting suns, and filling the air withdolor. " "Too true!" cried Yoomy. "Our calms must come by storms. Like helmlessvessels, tempest-tossed, our only anchorage is when we founder. " "Our beginnings, " murmured Mohi, "are lost in clouds; we live indarkness all our days, and perish without an end. " "Croak on, cowards!" cried Media, "and fly before the hideous phantomsthat pursue ye. " "No coward he, who hunted, turns and finds no foe to fight, " saidBabbalanja. "Like the stag, whose brow is beat with wings of hawks, perched in his heavenward antlers; so I, blinded, goaded, headlong, rush! this way and that; nor knowing whither; one forest wide around!" CHAPTER LXXXIIThey Sail From Night To Day Ere long the three canoes lurched heavily in a violent swell. Likepalls, the clouds swept to and fro, hooding the gibbering winds. Atevery head-beat wave, our arching prows reared up, and shuddered; thenight ran out in rain. Whither to turn we knew not; nor what haven to gain; so dense thedarkness. But at last, the storm was over. Our shattered prows seemed gilded. Day dawned; and from his golden vases poured red wine upon the waters. That flushed tide rippled toward us; floating from the east, a lonecanoe; in which, there sat a mild, old man; a palm-bough in his hand:a bird's beak, holding amaranth and myrtles, his slender prow. "Alma's blessing upon ye, voyagers! ye look storm-worn. " "The storm we have survived, old man; and many more, we yet mustride, " said Babbalanja. "The sun is risen; and all is well again. We but need to repair ourprows, " said Media. "Then, turn aside to Serenia, a pleasant isle, where all are welcome;where many storm-worn rovers land at last to dwell. " "Serenia?" said Babbalanja; "methinks Serenia is that land ofenthusiasts, of which we hear, my lord; where Mardians pretend to theunnatural conjunction of reason with things revealed; where Alma, theysay, is restored to his divine original; where, deriving theirprinciples from the same sources whence flow the persecutions ofMaramma, --men strive to live together in gentle bonds of peaceand charity;--folly! folly!" "Ay, " said Media; "much is said of those people of Serenia; but theirsocial fabric must soon fall to pieces; it is based upon the idlest oftheories. Thanks for thy courtesy, old man, but we care not to visitthy isle. Our voyage has an object, which, something tells me, willnot be gained by touching at thy shores. Elsewhere we may refit. Farewell! 'Tis breezing; set the sails! Farewell, old man. " "Nay, nay! think again; the distance is but small; the wind fair, --but'tis ever so, thither;--come: we, people of Serenia, are most anxiousto be seen of Mardi; so that if our manner of life seem good, allMardi may live as we. In blessed Alma's name, I pray ye, come!" "Shall we then, my lord?" "Lead on, old man! We will e'en see this wondrous isle. " So, guided by the venerable stranger, by noon we descried an islandblooming with bright savannas, and pensive with peaceful groves. Wafted from this shore, came balm of flowers, and melody of birds: athousand summer sounds and odors. The dimpled tide sang round oursplintered prows; the sun was high in heaven, and the waters were deepbelow. "The land of Love!" the old man murmured, as we neared the beach, where innumerable shells were gently rolling in the playful surf, andmurmuring from their tuneful valves. Behind, another, and a verdantsurf played against lofty banks of leaves; where the breeze, likewise, found its shore. And now, emerging from beneath the trees, there came a goodlymultitude in flowing robes; palm-branches in their hands; and as theycame, they sang:-- Hail! voyagers, hail! Whence e'er ye come, where'er ye rove, No calmer strand, No sweeter land, Will e'er ye view, than the Land of Love! Hail! voyagers, hail! To these, our shores, soft gales invite: The palm plumes wave, The billows lave, And hither point fix'd stars of light! Hail! voyagers, hail! Think not our groves wide brood with gloom; In this, our isle, Bright flowers smile: Full urns, rose-heaped, these valleys bloom. Hail! voyagers, hail! Be not deceived; renounce vain things; Ye may not find A tranquil mind, Though hence ye sail with swiftest wings. Hail! voyagers, hail! Time flies full fast; life soon is o'er; And ye may mourn, That hither borne, Ye left behind our pleasant shore. CHAPTER LXXXIIIThey Land The song was ended; and as we gained the strand, the crowd embracedus; and called us brothers; ourselves and our humblest attendants. "Call ye us brothers, whom ere now ye never saw?" "Even so, " said the old man, "is not Oro the father of all? Then, arewe not brothers? Thus Alma, the master, hath commanded. " "This was not our reception in Maramma, " said Media, "the appointedplace of Alma; where his precepts are preserved. " "No, no, " said Babbalanja; "old man! your lesson of brotherhood waslearned elsewhere than from Alma; for in Maramma and in all itstributary isles true brotherhood there is none. Even in the HolyIsland many are oppressed; for heresies, many murdered; and thousandsperish beneath the altars, groaning with offerings that might relievethem. " "Alas! too true. But I beseech ye, judge not Alma by all those whoprofess his faith. Hast thou thyself his records searched?" "Fully, I have not. So long, even from my infancy, have I witnessedthe wrongs committed in his name; the sins and inconsistencies of hisfollowers; that thinking all evil must flow from a congenial fountain, I have scorned to study the whole record of your Master's life. Byparts I only know it. " "Ah! baneful error! But thus is it, brothers!! that the wisest are setagainst the Truth, because of those who wrest it from itself. " "Do ye then claim to live what your Master hath spoken? Are yourprecepts practices?" "Nothing do we claim: we but 'earnestly endeavor. " "Tell me not of your endeavors, but of your life. What hope for thefatherless among ye?" "Adopted as a son. " "Of one poor, and naked?" "Clothed, and he wants for naught. " "If ungrateful, he smite you?" "Still we feed and clothe him. " "If yet an ingrate?" "Long, he can not be; for Love is a fervent fire. " "But what, if widely he dissent from your belief in Alma;--then, surely, ye must cast him forth?" "No, no; we will remember, that if he dissent from us, we then equallydissent from him; and men's faculties are Oro-given. Nor will we saythat he is wrong, and we are right; for this we know not, absolutely. But we care not for men's words; we look for creeds in actions; whichare the truthful symbols of the things within. He who hourly prays toAlma, but lives not up to world-wide love and charity--that man ismore an unbeliever than he who verbally rejects the Master, but doeshis bidding. Our lives are our Amens. " "But some say that what your Alma teaches is wholly new--a revelationof things before unimagined, even by the poets. To do his bidding, then, some new faculty must be vouchsafed, whereby to apprehend aright. " "So have I always thought, " said Mohi. "If Alma teaches love, I want no gift to learn, " said Yoomy. "All that is vital in the Master's faith, lived here in Mardi, and inhumble dells was practiced, long previous to the Master's coming. Butnever before was virtue so lifted up among us, that all might see;never before did rays from heaven descend to glorify it, But areTruth, Justice, and Love, the revelations of Alma alone? Were theynever heard of till he came? Oh! Alma but opens unto us our ownhearts. Were his precepts strange we would recoil--not one feelingwould respond; whereas, once hearkened to, our souls embrace them aswith the instinctive tendrils of a vine. " "But, " said Babbalanja, "since Alma, they say, was solely intent uponthe things of the Mardi to come--which to all, must seem uncertain--ofwhat benefit his precepts for the daily lives led here?" "Would! would that Alma might once more descend! Brother! were theturf our everlasting pillow, still would the Master's faith answer ablessed end;--making us more truly happy _here_. _That_ is the firstand chief result; for holy here, we must be holy elsewhere. 'TisMardi, to which loved Alma gives his laws; not Paradise. " "Full soon will I be testing all these things, " murmured Mohi. "Old man, " said Media, "thy years and Mohi's lead ye both to dwellupon the unknown future. But speak to me of other themes. Tell me ofthis island and its people. From all I have heard, and now behold, Igather that here there dwells no king; that ye are left to yourselves;and that this mystic Love, ye speak of, is your ruler. Is it so? Then, are ye full as visionary, as Mardi rumors. And though for a time, yemay have prospered, --long, ye can not be, without some sharp lesson toconvince ye, that your faith in Mardian virtue is entirely vain. " "Truth. We have no king; for Alma's precepts rebuke the arrogance ofplace and power. He is the tribune of mankind; nor will his true faithbe universal Mardi's, till our whole race is kingless. But think notwe believe in man's perfection. Yet, against all good, he is notabsolutely set. In his heart, there is a germ. _That_ we seek tofoster. To _that_ we cling; else, all were hopeless!" "Your social state?" "It is imperfect; and long must so remain. But we make not themiserable many support the happy few. Nor by annulling reason's laws, seek to breed equality, by breeding anarchy. In all things, equalityis not for all. Each has his own. Some have wider groves of palms thanothers; fare better; dwell in more tasteful arbors; oftener renewtheir fragrant thatch. Such differences must be. But none starveoutright, while others feast. By the abounding, the needy aresupplied. Yet not by statute, but from dictates, born half dormant inus, and warmed into life by Alma. Those dictates we but follow in allwe do; we are not dragged to righteousness; but go running. Nor do welive in common. For vice and virtue blindly mingled, form a unionwhere vice too often proves the alkali. The vicious we make dwellapart, until reclaimed. And reclaimed they soon must be, since everything invites. The sin of others rests not upon our heads: none wedrive to crime. Our laws are not of vengeance bred, but Love andAlma. " "Fine poetry all this, " said Babbalanja, "but not so new. Oft do theywarble thus in bland Maramma!" "It sounds famously, old man!" said Media, "but men are men. Some muststarve; some be scourged. --Your doctrines are impracticable. " "And are not these things enjoined by Alma? And would Alma inculcatethe impossible? of what merit, his precepts, unless they may bepracticed? But, I beseech ye, speak no more of Maramma. Alas! did Almarevisit Mardi, think you, it would be among those Morals he would layhis head?" "No, no, " said Babbalanja, "as an intruder he came; and an intruderwould he be this day. On all sides, would he jar our social systems. " "Not here, not here! Rather would we welcome Alma hungry and athirst, than though he came floating hither on the wings of seraphs; theblazing zodiac his diadem! In all his aspects we adore him; needing nopomp and power to kindle worship. Though he came from Oro; though hedid miracles; though through him is life;--not for these things alone, do we thus love him. We love him from, an instinct in us;--a fond, filial, reverential feeling. And this would yet stir in our souls, were death our end; and Alma incapable of befriending us. We love himbecause we do. " "Is this man divine?" murmured Babbalanja. "But thou speakest mostearnestly of adoring Alma:--I see no temples in your groves. " "Because this isle is all one temple to his praise; every leaf isconsecrated his. We fix not Alma here and there; and say, --'thosegroves for Him, and these broad fields for us. ' It is all his own; andwe ourselves; our every hour of life; and all we are, and have. " "Then, ye forever fast and pray; and stand and sing; as at longintervals the censer-bearers in Maramma supplicate their gods. " "Alma forbid! We never fast; our aspirations are our prayers; ourlives are worship. And when we laugh, with human joy at human things, --_then_ do we most sound great Oro's praise, and prove the merit ofsweet Alma's love! Our love in Alma makes us glad, not sad. Ye speakof temples;--behold! 'tis by not building _them_, that we widencharity among us. The treasures which, in the islands round about, arelavished on a thousand fanes;--with these we every day relieve theMaster's suffering disciples. In Mardi, Alma preached in open fields, --and must his worshipers have palaces?" "No temples, then no priests;" said Babbalanja, "for few priests willenter where lordly arches form not the portal. " "We have no priests, but one; and he is Alma's self. We have hisprecepts: we seek no comments but our hearts. " "But without priests and temples, how long will flourish this yourfaith?" said Media. "For many ages has not this faith lived, in spite of priests andtemples? and shall it not survive them? What we believe, we holddivine; and things divine endure forever. " "But how enlarge your bounds? how convert the vicious, withoutpersuasion of some special seers? Must your religion go hand in handwith all things secular?" "We hold not, that one man's words should be a gospel to the rest; butthat Alma's words should be a gospel to us all. And not by preceptswould we have some few endeavor to persuade; but all, by practice, fixconvictions, that the life we lead is the life for all. We areapostles, every one. Where'er we go, our faith we carry in our hands, and hearts. It is our chiefest joy. We do not put it wide away sixdays out of seven; and then, assume it. In it we all exult, and joy;as that which makes us happy here; as that, without which, we could behappy nowhere; as something meant for this time present, andhenceforth for aye. It is our vital mode of being; not an incident. And when we die, this faith shall be our pillow; and when we rise, ourstaff; and at the end, our crown. For we are all immortal. Here, Almajoins with our own hearts, confirming nature's promptings. " "How eloquent he is!" murmured Babbalanja. "Some black cloud seemsfloating from me. I begin to see. I come out in light. The sharp fangtears me less. The forked flames wane. My soul sets back like oceanstreams, that sudden change their flow. Have I been sane? Quickened inme is a hope. But pray you, old man--say on--methinks, that in yourfaith must be much that jars with reason. " "No, brother! Right-reason, and Alma, are the same; else Alma, notreason, would we reject. The Master's great command is Love; and heredo all things wise, and all things good, unite. Love is all in all. The more we love, the more we know; and so reversed. Oro we love; thisisle; and our wide arms embrace all Mardi like its reef. How can weerr, thus feeling? We hear loved Alma's pleading, prompting voice, inevery breeze, in every leaf; we see his earnest eye in every star andflower. " "Poetry!" cried Yoomy; "and poetry is truth! He stirs me. " "When Alma dwelt in Mardi, 'twas with the poor and friendless. He fedthe famishing; he healed the sick; he bound up wounds. For everyprecept that he spoke, he did ten thousand mercies. And Alma is ourloved example. " "Sure, all this is in the histories!" said Mohi, starting. "But not alone to poor and friendless, did Alma wend his charitableway. From lowly places, he looked up; and long invoked greatchieftains in their state; and told them all their pride was vanity;and bade them ask their souls. 'In _me_, ' he cried, 'is that heart ofmild content, which in vain ye seek in rank and title. I am Love: loveye then me. '" "Cease, cease, old man!" cried Media; "thou movest me beyond myseeming. What thoughts are these? Have done! Wouldst thou unking me?" "Alma is for all; for high and low. Like heaven's own breeze, he liftsthe lily from its lowly stem, and sweeps, reviving, through the palmygroves. High thoughts he gives the sage, and humble trust the simple. Be the measure what it may, his grace doth fill it to the brim. Helays the lashings of the soul's wild aspirations after things unseen;oil he poureth on the waters; and stars come out of night's blackconcave at his great command. In him is hope for all; for all, unbounded joys. Fast locked in his loved clasp, no doubts dismay. Heopes the eye of faith and shuts the eye of fear. He is all we prayfor, and beyond; all, that in the wildest hour of ecstasy, rapt fancypaints in bright Auroras upon the soul's wide, boundless Orient!" "Oh, Alma, Alma! prince divine!" cried Babbalanja, sinking on hisknees--"in _thee_, at last, I find repose. Hope perches in my heart adove;--a thousand rays illume;--all Heaven's a sun. Gone, gone! areall distracting doubts. Love and Alma now prevail. I see with othereyes:--Are these my hands? What wild, wild dreams were mine;--I havebeen mad. Some things there are, we must not think of. Beyond oneobvious mark, all human lore is vain. Where have I lived till now? Haddark Maramma's zealot tribe but murmured to me as this old man, longsince had I, been wise! Reason no longer domineers; but still dothspeak. All I have said ere this, that wars with Alma's precepts, Ihere recant. Here I kneel, and own great Oro and his sovereign son. " "And here another kneels and prays, " cried Yoomy. "In Alma all my dreams are found, my inner longings for the Lovesupreme, that prompts my every verse. Summer is in my soul. " "Nor now, too late for these gray hairs, " cried Mohi, with devotion. "Alma, thy breath is on my soul. I see bright light. " "No more a demigod, " cried Media, "but a subject to our common chief. No more shall dismal cries be heard from Odo's groves. Alma, I amthine. " With swimming eyes the old man kneeled; and round him grouped king, sage, gray hairs, and youth. There, as they kneeled, and as the old man blessed them, the settingsun burst forth from mists, gilded the island round about, shed raysupon their heads, and went down in a glory--all the East radiant withred burnings, like an altar-fire. CHAPTER LXXXIVBabbalanja Relates To Them A Vision Leaving Babbalanja in the old man's bower, deep in meditation;thoughtfully we strolled along the beach, inspiring the musky, midnight air; the tropical stars glistening in heaven, like drops ofdew among violets. The waves were phosphorescent, and laved the beach with a fire thatcooled it. Returning, we espied Babbalanja advancing in his snow-white mantle. The fiery tide was ebbing; and in the soft, moist sand, at every step, he left a lustrous foot-print. "Sweet friends! this isle is full of mysteries, " he said. "I havedreamed of wondrous things. After I had laid me down, thought pressedhard upon me. By my eyes passed pageant visions. I started at a low, strange melody, deep in my inmost soul. At last, methought my eyeswere fixed on heaven; and there, I saw a shining spot, unlike a star. Thwarting the sky, it grew, and grew, descending; till bright wingswere visible: between them, a pensive face angelic, downward beaming;and, for one golden moment, gauze-vailed in spangled Berenice's Locks. "Then, as white flame from yellow, out from that starry cluster itemerged; and brushed the astral Crosses, Crowns, and Cups. And as inviolet, tropic seas, ships leave a radiant-white, and fire-fly wake;so, in long extension tapering, behind the vision, gleamed anotherMilky-Way. "Strange throbbings seized me; my soul tossed on its own tides. Butsoon the inward harmony bounded in exulting choral strains. I heard afeathery rush; and straight beheld a form, traced all over with veinsof vivid light. The vision undulated round me. "'Oh! Spirit!! angel! god! whate'er thou art, '--I cried, 'leave me; Iam but man. ' "Then, I heard a low, sad sound, no voice. It said, or breathed uponme, --'Thou hast proved the grace of Alma: tell me what thou'stlearned. ' "Silent replied my soul, for voice was gone, --'This have I learned, oh! spirit!--In things mysterious, to seek no more; but rest content, with knowing naught but Love. ' "'Blessed art thou for that: thrice blessed, ' then I heard, and sincehumility is thine, thou art one apt to learn. That which thy ownwisdom could not find, thy ignorance confessed shall gain. Come, andsee new things. ' "Once more it undulated round me; its lightning wings grew dim; nearer, nearer; till I felt a shock electric, --and nested 'neath its wing. "We clove the air; passed systems, suns, and moons: what seem fromMardi's isles, the glow-worm stars. "By distant fleets of worlds we sped, as voyagers pass far sails atsea, and hail them not. Foam played before them as they darted on;wild music was their wake; and many tracks of sound we crossed, whereworlds had sailed before. "Soon, we gained a point, where a new heaven was seen; whence all ourfirmament seemed one nebula. Its glories burned like thousandsteadfast-flaming lights. "Here hived the worlds in swarms: and gave forth sweets ineffable. "We lighted on a ring, circling a space, where mornings seemed foreverdawning over worlds unlike. "'Here, ' I heard, 'thou viewest thy Mardi's Heaven. Herein each worldis portioned. ' "As he who climbs to mountain tops pants hard for breath; so panted Ifor Mardi's grosser air. But that which caused my flesh to faint, wasnew vitality to my soul. My eyes swept over all before me. The sphereswere plain as villages that dot a landscape. I saw most beauteousforms, yet like our own. Strange sounds I heard of gladness thatseemed mixed with sadness:--a low, sweet harmony of both. Else, I knownot how to phrase what never man but me e'er heard. "'In these blest souls are blent, ' my guide discoursed, 'far higherthoughts, and sweeter plaints than thine. Rude joy were discord here. And as a sudden shout in thy hushed mountain-passes brings down theawful avalanche; so one note of laughter here, might start some whiteand silent world. ' "Then low I murmured:--'Is their's, oh guide! no happiness supreme?their state still mixed? Sigh these yet to know? Can these sin?' "Then I heard:--'No mind but Oro's can know all; no mind that knowsnot all can be content; content alone approximates to happiness. Holiness comes by wisdom; and it is because great Oro is supremelywise, that He's supremely holy. But as perfect wisdom can be onlyOro's; so, perfect holiness is his alone. And whoso is otherwise thanperfect in his holiness, is liable to sin. "'And though death gave these beings knowledge, it also opened othermysteries, which they pant to know, and yet may learn. And still theyfear the thing of evil; though for them, 'tis hard to fall. Thushoping and thus fearing, then, their's is no state complete. And sinceOro is past finding out, and mysteries ever open into mysteriesbeyond; so, though these beings will for aye progress in wisdom and ingood; yet, will they never gain a fixed beatitude. Know, then, ohmortal Mardian! that when translated hither, thou wilt but put offlowly temporal pinings, for angel and eternal aspirations. Start not:thy human joy hath here no place: no name. "Still, I mournful mused; then said:--'Many Mardians live, who have noaptitude for Mardian lives of thought: how then endure more earnest, everlasting, meditations?' "'Such have their place, ' I heard. "'Then low I moaned, 'And what, oh! guide! of those who, livingthoughtless lives of sin, die unregenerate; no service done to Oro orto Mardian?' "'They, too, have their place, ' I heard; 'but 'tis not here. AndMardian! know, that as your Mardian lives are long preserved throughstrict obedience to the organic law, so are your spiritual livesprolonged by fast keeping of the law of mind. Sin is death. ' "'Ah, then, ' yet lower moan made I; 'and why create the germs that sinand suffer, but to perish?' "'That, ' breathed my guide; 'is the last mystery which underlieth allthe rest. Archangel may not fathom it; that makes of Oro theeverlasting mystery he is; that to divulge, were to make equal tohimself in knowledge all the souls that are; that mystery Oro guards;and none but him may know. ' "Alas! were it recalled, no words have I to tell of all that now myguide discoursed, concerning things unsearchable to us. My sixth sensewhich he opened, sleeps again, with all the wisdom that it gained. "Time passed; it seemed a moment, might have been an age; when fromhigh in the golden haze that canopied this heaven, another angel came;its vans like East and West; a sunrise one, sunset the other. Assilver-fish in vases, so, in his azure eyes swam tears unshed. "Quick my guide close nested me; through its veins the waning lightthrobbed hard. "'Oh, spirit! archangel! god! whate'er thou art, ' it breathed; 'leaveme: I am but blessed, not glorified. ' "So saying, as down from doves, from its wings dropped sounds. Stillnesting me, it crouched its plumes. "Then, in a snow of softest syllables, thus breathed the greater andmore beautiful:--'From far away, in fields beyond thy ken, I heard thyfond discourse with this lone Mardian. It pleased me well; for thyhumility was manifeat; no arrogance of knowing. Come _thou_ and learnnew things. ' "And straight it overarched us with its plumes; which, then, down-sweeping, bore us up to regions where my first guide had sunk, but forthe power that buoyed us, trembling, both. "My eyes did wane, like moons eclipsed in overwhelming dawns: suchradiance was around; such vermeil light, born of no sun, but pervadingall the scene. Transparent, fleck-less, calm, all glowed one flame. "Then said the greater guide This is the night of all ye here behold--its day ye could not bide. Your utmost heaven is far below. ' "Abashed, smote down, I, quaking, upward gazed; where, to and fro, thespirits sailed, like broad-winged crimson-dyed flamingos, spiraling insunset-clouds. But a sadness glorified, deep-fringed their mystictemples, crowned with weeping halos, bird-like, floating o'er them, whereso'er they roamed. "Sights and odors blended. As when new-morning winds, in summer'sprime, blow down from hanging gardens, wafting sweets that never pall;so, from those flowery pinions, at every motion, came a flood offragrance. "And now the spirits twain discoursed of things, whose very terms, tome, were dark. But my first guide grew wise. For me, I could butblankly list; yet comprehended naught; and, like the fish that'smocked with wings, and vainly seeks to fly;--again I sought my lowerelement. "As poised, we hung in this rapt ether, a sudden trembling seized thefour wings now folding me. And afar of, in zones still upwardreaching, suns' orbits off, I, tranced, beheld an awful glory. Spherein sphere, it burned:--the one Shekinah! The air was flaked withfire;--deep in which, fell showers of silvery globes, tears magnified--braiding the flame with rainbows. I heard a sound; but not for me, nor my first guide, was that unutterable utterance. Then, my secondguide was swept aloft, as rises a cloud of red-dyed leaves in autumnwhirlwinds. "Fast clasping me, the other drooped, and, instant, sank, as in avacuum; myriad suns' diameters in a breath;--my five senses merged inone, of falling; till we gained the nether sky, descending still. "Then strange things--soft, sad, and faint, I saw or heard; as, when, in sunny, summer seas, down, down, you dive, starting at pensivephantoms, that you can not fix. "'These, ' breathed my guide, 'are spirits in their essences; sad, evenin undevelopment. With these, all space is peopled;--all the air isvital with intelligence, which seeks embodiment. This it is, thatunbeknown to Mardians, causes them to strangely start in solitudes ofnight, and in the fixed flood of their enchanted noons. From hence, are formed your mortal souls; and all those sad and shadowy dreams, and boundless thoughts man hath, are vague remembrances of the timewhen the soul's sad germ, wide wandered through these realms. Andhence it is, that when ye Mardians feel most sad, then ye feel mostimmortal. "Like a spark new-struck from flint, soon Mardi showed afar. It glowedwithin a sphere, which seemed, in space, a bubble, rising from vastdepths to the sea's surface. Piercing it, my Mardian strengthreturned; but the angel's veins once more grew dim. "Nearing the isles, thus breathed my guide:--'Loved one, love on! Butknow, that heaven hath no roof. To know all is to be all. Beatitudethere is none. And your only Mardian happiness is but exemption fromgreat woes--no more. Great Love is sad; and heaven is Love. Sadnessmakes the silence throughout the realms of space; sadness is universaland eternal; but sadness is tranquillity; tranquillity the uttermostthat souls may hope for. ' "Then, with its wings it fanned adieu; and disappeared where the sunflames highest. " We heard the dream and, silent, sought repose, to dream away ourwonder. CHAPTER LXXXVThey Depart From Serenia At sunrise, we stood upon the beach. Babbalanja thus:--"My voyage is ended. Not because what we sought isfound; but that I now possess all which may be had of what I sought inMardi. Here, tarry to grow wiser still:--then I am Alma's and theworld's. Taji! for Yillah thou wilt hunt in vain; she is a phantomthat but mocks thee; and while for her thou madly huntest, the sinthou didst cries out, and its avengers still will follow. But herethey may not come: nor those, who, tempting, track thy path. Wisecounsel take. Within our hearts is all we seek: though in that searchmany need a prompter. Him I have found in blessed Alma. Then rove nomore. Gain now, in flush of youth, that last wise thought, too oftenpurchased, by a life of woe. Be wise: be wise. "Media! thy station calls thee home. Yet from this isle, thou earnestthat, wherewith to bless thy own. These flowers, that round us spring, may be transplanted: and Odo made to bloom with amaranths and myrtles, like this Serenia. Before thy people act the things, thou here hastheard. Let no man weep, that thou may'st laugh; no man toil too hard, that thou may'st idle be. Abdicate thy throne: but still retain thescepter. None need a king; but many need a ruler. "Mohi! Yoomy! do we part? then bury in forgetfulness much thathitherto I've spoken. But let not one syllable of this old man's wordsbe lost. "Mohi! Age leads thee by the hand. Live out thy life; and die, calm-browed. "But Yoomy! many days are thine. And in one life's span, great circlesmay be traversed, eternal good be done. Take all Mardi for thy home. Nations are but names; and continents but shifting sands. "Once more: Taji! be sure thy Yillah never will be found; or found, will not avail thee. Yet search, if so thou wilt; more isles, thousay'st, are still unvisited; and when all is seen, return, and findthy Yillah here. "Companions all! adieu. " And from the beach, he wended through the woods. Our shallops now refitted, we silently embarked; and as we sailedaway, the old man blessed us. For a time, each prow's ripplings were distinctly heard: ripple afterripple. With silent, steadfast eyes, Media still preserved his noble mien;Mohi his reverend repose; Yoomy his musing mood. But as a summer hurricane leaves all nature still, and smiling to theeye; yet, in deep woods, there lie concealed some anguished roots tornup:--so, with these. Much they longed, to point our prows for Odo's isle; saying our searchwas over. But I was fixed as fate. On we sailed, as when we first embarked; the air was bracing asbefore. More isles we visited:--thrice encountered the avengers: butunharmed; thrice Hautia's heralds but turned not aside;--saw manycheckered scenes--wandered through groves, and open fields--traversedmany vales--climbed hill-tops whence broad views were gained--tarriedin towns--broke into solitudes--sought far, sought near:--Still Yillahthere was none. Then again they all would fain dissuade me. "Closed is the deep blue eye, " said Yoomy. "Fate's last leaves are turning, let me home and die, " said Mohi. "So nigh the circuit's done, " said Media, "our morrow's sun must riseo'er Odo; Taji! renounce the hunt. " "I am the hunter, that never rests! the hunter without a home! She Iseek, still flies before; and I will follow, though she lead me beyondthe reef; through sunless seas; and into night and death. Her, will Iseek, through all the isles and stars; and find her, whate'er betide!" Again they yielded; and again we glided on;--our storm-worn prows, nowpointed here, now there;--beckoned, repulsed;--their half-rent sails, still courting every breeze. But that same night, once more, they wrestled with me. Now, at last, the hopeless search must be renounced: Yillah there was none: backmust I hie to blue Serenia. Then sweet Yillah called me from the sea;--still must I on! but gazingwhence that music seemed to come, I thought I saw the green corsedrifting by: and striking 'gainst our prow, as if to hinder. Then, then! my heart grew hard, like flint; and black, like night; andsounded hollow to the hand I clenched. Hyenas filled me with theirlaughs; death-damps chilled my brow; I prayed not, but blasphemed. CHAPTER LXXXVIThey Meet The Phantoms That starless midnight, there stole from out the darkness, the Irisflag of Hautia. Again the sirens came. They bore a large and stately urn-like flower, white as alabaster, and glowing, as if lit up within. From its calyx, flame-like, trembled forked and crimson stamens, burning withintensest odors. The phantoms nearer came; their flower, as an urn of burning niter. Then it changed, and glowed like Persian dawns; or passive, was shotover by palest lightnings;--so variable its tints. "The night-blowing Cereus!" said Yoomy, shuddering, "that never blowsin sun-light; that blows but once; and blows but for an hour. --For thelast time I come; now, in your midnight of despair, and promise youthis glory. Take heed! short time hast thou to pause; through me, perhaps, thy Yillah may be found. " "Away! away! tempt me not by that, enchantress! Hautia! I know theenot; I fear thee not; but instinct makes me hate thee. Away! my eyesare frozen shut; I will not be tempted more. " "How glorious it burns!" cried Media. I reel with incense:--can suchsweets be evil?" "Look! look!" cried Yoomy, "its petals wane, and creep; one momentmore, and the night-flower shuts up forever the last, last hope ofYillah!" "Yillah! Yillah! Yillah!" bayed three vengeful voices far behind. "Yillah! Yillah!--dash the urn! I follow, Hautia! though thy lure bedeath. " The Cereus closed; and in a mist the siren prow went on before; we, following. When day dawned, three radiant pilot-fish swam in advance: threeravenous sharks astern. And, full before us, rose the isle of Hautia. CHAPTER LXXXVIIThey Draw Nigh To Flozella As if Mardi were a poem, and every island a canto, the shore now insight was called Flozella-a-Nina, or The-Last-Verse-of-the-Song. According to Mohi, the origin of this term was traceable to theremotest antiquity. In the beginning, there were other beings in Mardi besides Mardians;winged beings, of purer minds, and cast in gentler molds, who wouldfain have dwelt forever with mankind. But the hearts of the Mardianswere bitter against them, because of their superior goodness. Yetthose beings returned love for malice, and long entreated to virtueand charity. But in the end, all Mardi rose up against them, andhunted them from isle to isle; till, at last, they rose from thewoodlands like a flight of birds, and disappeared in the skies. Thereafter, abandoned of such sweet influences, the Mardians fell intoall manner of sins and sufferings, becoming the erring things theirdescendants were now. Yet they knew not, that their calamities were oftheir own bringing down. For deemed a victory, the expulsion of thewinged beings was celebrated in choruses, throughout Mardi. And amongother jubilations, so ran the legend, a pean was composed, corresponding in the number of its stanzas, to the number of islands. And a band of youths, gayly appareled, voyaged in gala canoes allround the lagoon, singing upon each isle, one verse of their song. AndFlozella being the last isle in their circuit, its queen commemoratedthe circumstance, by new naming her realm. That queen had first incited Mardi to wage war against the beings withwings. She it was, who had been foremost in every assault. And thatqueen was ancestor of Hautia, now ruling the isle. Approaching the dominions of one who so long had haunted me, conflicting emotions tore up my soul in tornadoes. Yet Hautia had heldout some prospect of crowning my yearnings. But how connected wereHautia and Yillah? Something I hoped; yet more I feared. Direpresentiments, like poisoned arrows, shot through me. Had they piercedme before, straight to Flozella would I have voyaged; not waiting forHautia to woo me by that last and victorious temptation. But unchangedremained my feelings of hatred for Hautia; yet vague those feelings, as the language of her flowers. Nevertheless, in some mysterious wayseemed Hautia and Yillah connected. But Yillah was all beauty, andinnocence; my crown of felicity; my heaven below;--and Hautia, mywhole heart abhorred. Yillah I sought; Hautia sought me. One, openlybeckoned me here; the other dimly allured me there. Yet now was Iwildly dreaming to find them together. But so distracted my soul, Iknew not what it was, that I thought. Slowly we neared the land. Flozella-a-Nina!--An omen? Was this isle, then, to prove the last place of my search, even as it was the Last-Verse-of-the-Song? CHAPTER LXXXVIIIThey Land A jeweled tiara, nodding in spray, looks flowery Flozella, approachedfrom the sea. For, lo you! the glittering foam all round its whitemarge; where, forcing themselves underneath the coral ledge, and upthrough its crevices, in fountains, the blue billows gush. While, within, zone above zone, thrice zoned in belts of bloom, all the isle, as a hanging-garden soars; its tapering cone blending aloft, withheaven's own blue. "What flies through the spray! what incense is this?" cried Media. "Ha! you wild breeze! you have been plundering the gardens of Hautia, "cried Yoomy. "No sweets can be sweeter, " said Braid-Beard, "but no Upas more deadly. " Anon we came nearer; sails idly flapping, and paddles suspended; sleekcurrents our coursers. And round about the isle, like winged rainbows, shoals of dolphins were leaping over floating fragments of wrecks:--dark-green, long-haired ribs, and keels of canoes. For many shallops, inveigled by the eddies, were oft dashed to pieces against thatflowery strand. But what cared the dolphins? Mardian wrecks were theirhomes. Over and over they sprang: from east to west: rising andsetting: many suns in a moment; while all the sea, like a harvestplain, was stacked with their glittering sheaves of spray. And far down, fathoms on fathoms, flitted rainbow hues:--as seines-full of mermaids; half-screening the bones of the drowned. Swifter and swifter the currents now ran; till with a shock, our prowswere beached. There, beneath an arch of spray, three dark-eyed maidens stood;garlanded with columbines, their nectaries nodding like jesters'bells; and robed in vestments blue. "The pilot-fish transformed!" cried Yoomy. "The night-eyed heralds three!" said Mohi. Following the maidens, we now took our way along a winding vale;where, by sweet-scented hedges, flowed blue-braided brooks; theirtributaries, rivulets of violets, meandering through the meads. On one hand, forever glowed the rosy mountains with a tropic dawn; andon the other; lay an Arctic eve;--the white daisies drifted in longbanks of snow, and snowed the blossoms from the orange boughs. There, summer breathed her bridal bloom; her hill-top temples crowned withbridal wreaths. We wandered on, through orchards arched in long arcades, that seemedbaronial halls, hung o'er with trophies:--so spread the boughs inantlers. This orchard was the frontlet of the isle. The fruit hung high in air, that only beaks, not hands, might pluck. Here, the peach tree showed her thousand cheeks of down, kissed oftenby the wooing winds; here, in swarms; the yellow apples hived, likegolden bees upon the boughs; here, from the kneeling, fainting trees, thick fell the cherries, in great drops of blood; and here, thepomegranate, with cold rind and sere, deep pierced by bills of birdsrevealed the mellow of its ruddy core. So, oft the heart, that coldand withered seems, within yet hides its juices. This orchard passed, the vale became a lengthening plain, that seemedthe Straits of Ormus bared so thick it lay with flowery gems:torquoise-hyacinths, ruby-roses, lily-pearls. Here roved the vagrantvines; their flaxen ringlets curling over arbors, which laughed andshook their golden locks. From bower to bower, flew the wee bird, thatever hovering, seldom lights; and flights of gay canaries passed, likejonquils, winged. But now, from out half-hidden bowers of clematis, there issued swarmsof wasps, which flying wide, settled on all the buds. And, fifty nymphs preceding, who now follows from those bowers, withgliding, artful steps:--the very snares of love!--Hautia. A gorgeousamaryllis in her hand; Circe-flowers in her ears; her girdle tied withvervain. She came by privet hedges, drooping; downcast honey-suckles; she trodon pinks and pansies, blue-bells, heath, and lilies. She glided on:her crescent brow calm as the moon, when most it works its evilinfluences. Her eye was fathomless. But the same mysterious, evil-boding gaze was there, which long beforehad haunted me in Odo, ere Yillah fled. --Queen Hautia the incognito!Then two wild currents met, and dashed me into foam. "Yillah! Yillah!--tell me, queen!" But she stood motionless; radiant, and scentless: a dahlia on its stalk. "Where? Where?" "Is not thy voyage now ended?--Take flowers! Damsels, give him wine todrink. After his weary hunt, be the wanderer happy. " I dashed aside their cups, and flowers; still rang the vale with Yillah! "Taji! did I know her fate, naught would I now disclose; my heraldspledged their queen to naught. Thou but comest here to supplant thymourner's night-shade, with marriage roses. Damsels! give him wreaths;crowd round him; press him with your cups!" Once more I spilled their wine, and tore their garlands. Is not that, the evil eye that long ago did haunt me? and thou, the Hautia who hastfollowed me, and wooed, and mocked, and tempted me, through all thislong, long voyage? I swear! thou knowest all. " "I am Hautia. Thou hast come at last. Crown him with your flowers!Drown him in your wine! To all questions, Taji! I am mute. --Away!--damsels dance; reel round him; round and round!" Then, their feet made music on the rippling grass, like thousandleaves of lilies on a lake. And, gliding nearer, Hautia welcomedMedia; and said, "Your comrade here is sad:--be ye gay. Ho, wine!--Ipledge ye, guests!" Then, marking all, I thought to seem what I was not, that I mightlearn at last the thing I sought. So, three cups in hand I held; drank wine, and laughed; and half-waymet Queen Hautia's blandishments. CHAPTER LXXXIXThey Enter The Bower Of Hautia Conducted to the arbor, from which the queen had emerged, we came to asweet-brier bower within; and reclined upon odorous mats. Then, in citron cups, sherbet of tamarinds was offered to Media, Mohi, Yoomy; to me, a nautilus shell, brimmed with a light-like fluid, thatwelled, and welled like a fount. "Quaff, Taji, quaff! every drop drowns a thought!" Like a blood-freshet, it ran through my veins. A philter?--How Hautia burned before me! Glorious queen! with all theradiance, lighting up the equatorial night. "Thou art most magical, oh queen! about thee a thousand constellationscluster. " "They blaze to burn, " whispered Mohi. "I see ten million Hautias!--all space reflects her, as a mirror. " Then, in reels, the damsels once more mazed, the blossoms shaking fromtheir brows; till Hautia, glided near; arms lustrous as rainbows:chanting some wild invocation. My soul ebbed out; Yillah there was none! but as I turned round open-armed, Hautia vanished. "She is deeper than the sea, " said Media. "Her bow is bent, " said Yoomy. "I could tell wonders of Hautia and her damsels, " said Mohi. "What wonders?" "Listen; and in his own words will I recount the adventure of theyouth Ozonna. It will show thee, Taji, that the maidens of Hautia areall Yillahs, held captive, unknown to themselves; and that Hautia, their enchantress, is the most treacherous of queens. "'Camel-like, laden with woe, ' said Ozonna, 'after many wild rovingsin quest of a maiden long lost--beautiful Ady! and after beingrepelled in Maramma; and in vain hailed to land at Serenia, represented as naught but another Maramma;--with vague promises ofdiscovering Ady, three sirens, who long had pursued, at last inveigledme to Flozella; where Hautia made me her thrall. But ere long, in Rea, one of her maidens, I thought I discovered my Ady transformed. My armsopened wide to embrace; but the damsel knew not Ozonna. And even, whenafter hard wooing, I won her again, she seemed not lost Ady, but Rea. Yet all the while, from deep in her strange, black orbs, Ady's blueeyes seemed pensively looking:--blue eye within black: sad, silentsoul within merry. Long I strove, by fixed ardent gazing, to break thespell, and restore in Rea my lost one's Past. But in vain. It was onlyRea, not Ady, who at stolen intervals looked on me now. One morningHautia started as she greeted me; her quick eye rested on my bosom;and glancing there, affrighted, I beheld a distinct, fresh mark, theimpress of Rea's necklace drop. Fleeing, I revealed what had passed tothe maiden, who broke from my side; as I, from Hautia's. The queensummoned her damsels, but for many hours the call was unheeded; andwhen at last they came, upon each bosom lay a necklace-drop likeRea's. On the morrow, lo! my arbor was strown over with bruisedLinden-leaves, exuding a vernal juice. Full of forbodings, again Isought Rea: who, casting down her eyes, beheld her feet stained green. Again she fled; and again Hautia summoned her damsels: malicioustriumph in her eye; but dismay succeeded: each maid had spotted feet. That night Rea was torn from my side by three masks; who, stifling hercries, rapidly bore her away; and as I pursued, disappeared in a cave. Next morning, Hautia was surrounded by her nymphs, but Rea was absent. Then, gliding near, she snatched from my hair, a jet-black tress, loose-hanging. 'Ozonna is the murderer! See! Rea's torn hair entangledwith his!' Aghast, I swore that I knew not her fate. 'Then let thewitch Larfee be called!' The maidens darted from the bower; and soonafter, there rolled into it a green cocoa-nut, followed by the witch, and all the damsels, flinging anemones upon it. Bowling this way andthat, the nut at last rolled to my feet. --'It is he!' cried all. --Thenthey bound me with osiers; and at midnight, unseen and irresistiblehands placed me in a shallop; which sped far out into the lagoon, where they tossed me to the waves; but so violent the shock, theosiers burst; and as the shallop fled one way, swimming another, erelong I gained land. "'Thus in Flozella, I found but the phantom of Ady, and slew the lasthope of Ady the true. '" This recital sank deep into my soul. In some wild way, Hautia had madea captive of Yillah; in some one of her black-eyed maids, the blue-eyed One was transformed. From side to side, in frenzy, I turned; butin all those cold, mystical eyes, saw not the warm ray that I sought. "Hast taken root within this treacherous soil?" cried Media. "Away!thy Yillah is behind thee, not before. Deep she dwells in blueSerenia's groves; which thou would'st not search. Hautia mocks thee;away! The reef is rounded; but a strait flows between this isle andOdo, and thither its ruler must return. Every hour I tarry here, somewretched serf is dying there, for whom, from blest Serenia, _I carrylife and joy. Away!_" "Art still bent on finding evil for thy good?" cried Mohi. --"How canYillah harbor here?--Beware!--Let not Hautia so enthrall thee. " "Come away, come away, " cried Yoomy. "Far hence is Yillah! and he whotarries among these flowers, must needs burn juniper. " "Look on me, Media, Mohi, Yoomy. Here I stand, my own monument, tillHautia breaks the spell. " In grief they left me. Vee-Vee's conch I heard no more. CHAPTER XCTaji With Hautia As their last echoes died away down the valley, Hautia glided near;--zone unbound, the amaryllis in her hand. Her bosom ebbed and flowed;the motes danced in the beams that darted from her eyes. "Come! let us sin, and be merry. Ho! wine, wine, wine! and lapfuls offlowers! let all the cane-brakes pipe their flutes. Damsels! dance;reel, swim, around me:--I, the vortex that draws all in. Taji! Taji!--as a berry, that name is juicy in my mouth!--Taji, Taji!" and inchoruses, she warbled forth the sound, till it seemed issuing from hersyren eyes. My heart flew forth from out its bars, and soared in air; but as myhand touched Hautia's, down dropped a dead bird from the clouds. "Ha! how he sinks!--but did'st ever dive in deep waters, Taji? Did'stever see where pearls grow?--To the cave!--damsels, lead on!" Then wending through constellations of flowers, we entered deepgroves. And thus, thrice from sun-light to shade, it seemed threebrief nights and days, ere we paused before the mouth of the cavern. A bow-shot from the sea, it pierced the hill-side like a vaulted way;and glancing in, we saw far gleams of water; crossed, here and there, by long-flung distant shadows of domes and columns. All Venice seemedwithin. From a stack of golden palm-stalks, the damsels now made torches; thenstood grouped; a sheaf of sirens in a sheaf of frame. Illuminated, the cavern shone like a Queen of Kandy's casket: full ofdawns and sunsets. From rocky roof to bubbling floor, it was columned with stalactites;and galleried all round, in spiral tiers, with sparkling, coral ledges. And now, their torches held aloft, into the water the maidens softlyglided; and each a lotus floated; while, from far above, into the airHautia flung her flambeau; then bounding after, in the lake, twometeors were quenched. Where she dived, the flambeaux clustered; and up among them, Hautiarose; hands, full of pearls. "Lo! Taji; all these may be had for the diving; and Beauty, Health, Wealth, Long Life, and the Last Lost Hope of man. But through mealone, may these be had. Dive thou, and bring up one pearl if thoucanst. " Down, down! down, down, in the clear, sparkling water, till I seemedcrystalized in the flashing heart of a diamond; but from thosebottomless depths, I uprose empty handed. "Pearls, pearls! thy pearls! thou art fresh from the mines. Ah, Taji!for thee, bootless deep diving. Yet to Hautia, one shallow plungereveals many Golcondas. But come; dive with me:--join hands--let meshow thee strange things. " "Show me that which I seek, and I will dive with thee, straightthrough the world, till we come up in oceans unknown. " "Nay, nay; but join hands, and I will take thee, where thy Past shallbe forgotten; where thou wilt soon learn to love the living, not thedead. " "Better to me, oh Hautia! all the bitterness of my buried dead, thanall the sweets of the life thou canst bestow; even, were it eternal. " CHAPTER XCIMardi Behind: An Ocean Before Returned from the cave, Hautia reclined in her clematis bower, invisible hands flinging fennel around her. And nearer, and nearer, stole dulcet sounds dissolving my woes, as warm beams, snow. Strangelanguors made me droop; once more within my inmost vault, side byside, the Past and Yillah lay:--two bodies tranced;--while like arounding sun, before me Hautia magnified magnificence; and through herfixed eyes, slowly drank up my soul. Thus we stood:--snake and victim: life ebbing out from me, to her. But from that spell, I burst again, as all the Past smote all thePresent in me. "Oh Hautia! thou knowest the mystery I die to fathom. I see itcrouching in thine eye:--Reveal!" "Weal or woe?" "Life or death!" "See, see!" and Yillah's rose-pearl danced before me. I snatched it from her hand:--"Yillah! Yillah!" "Rave on: she lies too deep to answer; stranger voices than thine shehears:--bubbles are bursting round her. " "Drowned! drowned then, even as she dreamed:--I come, I come!--Ha, what form is this?--hast mosses? sea-thyme? pearls?--Help, help! Isink!--Back, shining monster!---What, Hautia, --is it thou?--Ohvipress, I could slay thee!" "Go, go, --and slay thyself: I may not make thee mine;--go, --dead todead!--There is another cavern in the hill. " Swift I fled along thevalley-side; passed Hautia's cave of pearls; and gained a twilightarch; within, a lake transparent shone. Conflicting currents met, andwrestled; and one dark arch led to channels, seaward tending. Round and round, a gleaming form slow circled in the deepest eddies:--white, and vaguely Yillah. Straight I plunged; but the currents were as fierce headwinds offcapes, that beat back ships. Then, as I frenzied gazed; gaining the one dark arch, the revolvingshade darted out of sight, and the eddies whirled as before. "Stay, stay! let me go with thee, though thou glidest to gulfs ofblackness;--naught can exceed the hell of this despair!--Why beatlonger in this corpse oh, my heart!" As somnambulists fast-frozen in some horrid dream, ghost-like glideabroad, and fright the wakeful world; so that night, with death-glazedeyes, to and fro I flitted on the damp and weedy beach. "Is this specter, Taji?"--and Mohi and the minstrel stood before me. "Taji lives no more. So dead, he has no ghost. I am his spirit'sphantom's phantom. " "Nay, then, phantom! the time has come to flee. " They dragged me to the water's brink, where a prow was beached. Soon--Mohi at the helm--we shot beneath the far-flung shadow of a cliff;when, as in a dream, I hearkened to a voice. Arrived at Odo, Media had been met with yells. Sedition was in arms, and to his beard defied him. Vain all concessions then. Foremost stoodthe three pale sons of him, whom I had slain, to gain the maiden lost. Avengers, from the first hour we had parted on the sea, they haddrifted on my track survived starvation; and lived to hunt me roundall Mardi's reef; and now at Odo, that last threshold, waited todestroy; or there, missing the revenge they sought, still swore tohunt me round Eternity. Behind the avengers, raged a stormy mob, invoking Media to renouncehis rule. But one hand waving like a pennant above the smoke of somesea-fight, straight through that tumult Media sailed serene: therioters parting from before him, as wild waves before a prowinflexible. A haven gained, he turned to Mohi and the minstrel:--"Oh, friends!after our long companionship, hard to part! But henceforth, for manymoons, Odo will prove no home for old age, or youth. In Serenia only, will ye find the peace ye seek; and thither ye must carry Taji, whoelse must soon be slain, or lost. Go: release him from the thrall ofHautia. Outfly the avengers, and gain Serenia. Reek not of me. Thestate is tossed in storms; and where I stand, the combing billows mustbreak over. But among all noble souls, in tempest-time, the headmostman last flies the wreck. So, here in Odo will I abide, though everyplank breaks up beneath me. And then, --great Oro! let the king dieclinging to the keel! Farewell!" Such Mohi's tale. In trumpet-blasts, the hoarse night-winds now blew; the Lagoon, blackwith the still shadows of the mountains, and the driving shadows ofthe clouds. Of all the stars, only red Arcturus shone. But through thegloom, and on the circumvallating reef, the breakers dashed ghost-white. An outlet in that outer barrier was nigh. "Ah! Yillah! Yillah!--the currents sweep thee ocean-ward; nor will Itarry behind. --Mardi, farewell!--Give me the helm, old man!" "Nay, madman! Serenia is our haven. Through yonder strait, for thee, perdition lies. And from the deep beyond, no voyager e'er puts back. " "And why put back? is a life of dying worth living o'er again?--Let_me_, then, be the unreturning wanderer. The helm! By Oro, I willsteer my own fate, old man. --Mardi, farewell!" "Nay, Taji: commit not the last, last crime!" cried Yoomy. "He's seized the helm! eternity is in his eye! Yoomy: for our lives wemust now swim. " And plunging, they struck out for land: Yoomy buoying Mohi up, and thesalt waves dashing the tears from his pallid face, as through thescud, he turned it on me mournfully. "Now, I am my own soul's emperor; and my first act is abdication!Hail! realm of shades!"--and turning my prow into the racing tide, which seized me like a hand omnipotent, I darted through. Churned in foam, that outer ocean lashed the clouds; and straight inmy white wake, headlong dashed a shallop, three fixed specters leaningo'er its prow: three arrows poising. And thus, pursuers and pursued flew on, over an endless sea. THE END.