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 arm
s 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!"
Mardi: and A Voyage Thither, Vol. II Page 28