"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 yo
u 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."
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