Mardi: and A Voyage Thither, Vol. II

by Herman Melville

  "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 g
hosts 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 impal
ed 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