"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 strongest motive-passions, those which, in some way or other, root under our every action. Hence, without bodies, we must be something else than we essentially are. Wherefore, that saying imputed to Alma, and which, by his very followers, is deemed the most hard to believe of all his instructions, and the most at variance with all preconceived notions of immortality, I Babbalanja, account the most reasonable of his doctrinal teachings. It is this;-that at the last day, every man shall 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 'Very Merry 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 its disparagement. 'Out upon you, you beggarly body! you clog, drug, drag!
You keep me from flying; I could get along better without you. Out upon you, I say, you vile pantry, cellar, sink, sewer; abominable body! what vile thing are you not? And think you, beggar! to have the upper hand of me? Make a leg to that man if you dare, without my permission. This smell is intolerable; but turn from it, if you can, unless I give the word. Bolt this yam! — it is done. Carry me across yon field! — off we go. Stop! — it's a dead halt. There, I've trained you enough for to-day; now, sirrah, crouch down in the shade, and be quiet.-I'm rested. So, here's for a stroll, and a reverie homeward:-Up, carcass, and march.' So the carcass demurely rose and paced, and the philosopher meditated. He was intent upon squaring the circle; but bump he came against a bough. 'How now, clodhopping bumpkin! you would take advantage of my reveries, would you? But I'll be even with you;' and seizing a cudgel, he laid across his shoulders with right good will. But one of his backhanded thwacks injured his spinal 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.' But wonderful to tell, his legs refused to budge; all sensation had left them. But a huge wasp happening to sting his foot, not him, for he felt it not, the leg incontinently sprang into the air, and of itself, cut all manner of capers. Be still! Down with you!' But the leg refused. 'My arms are still loyal,' thought Grando; and with them he at last managed to confine his refractory member. But all commands, volitions, and persuasions, were as naught to induce his limbs to carry him home. It was a solitary place; and five days after, Grando the 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 more perverse bodies than Grando's. In the fables of Ridendiabola, this is to be found. 'A fresh-water Polyp, despising its marine existence; longed to live upon air. But all it could do, its tentacles or arms still continued to cram its stomach. By a sudden preternatural impulse, however, the Polyp at last turned itself inside out; supposing that after such a proceeding it would have no gastronomic interior. But its body proved ventricle outside as well as in. Again its 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 organic functions, so called; which may account for the phenomena you mention; and I have heard too, me-thinks, of what are called reflex actions of the nerves, which, duly considered, might deprive of its strangeness that story of yours concerning Grande and his body."
"Mere substitutions of sounds for inexplicable meanings, my lord. In some things science cajoles us. Now, what is undeniable of the Polyp some physiologists analogically maintain with regard to us Mardians; that forasmuch, as the lining of our interiors is nothing more than a continuation of the epidermis, or scarf-skin, therefore, that in a remote age, we too must have been turned wrong side out: an hypothesis, which, indirectly might account for our moral perversities: and also, for that otherwise nonsensical term-'the coat of the stomach;' for originally it must have been a surtout, instead of an inner garment."
"Pray, Azzageddi," said Media, "are you not a fool?"
"One of a jolly company, my lord; but some creatures besides wearing their surtouts within, sport their skeletons without: witness the lobster 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's hard 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 erroneously opined. My idea is more susceptible of demonstration than his. Among the deepest discovered land fossils, the relics of kangaroos are discernible, but no relics of men. Hence, there were no giants in those days; but on the contrary, kangaroos; and those kangaroos formed the 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 of civilization; especially at the period when our fathers began to adopt the sitting posture: the fundamental evidence of all civilization, for neither apes, nor savages, can be said to sit; invariably, they squat on their hams. Among barbarous tribes benches and settles are unknown.
But, my lord Media, as your liege and loving subject I can not sufficiently deplore the deprivation of your royal tail. That stiff and vertebrated member, as we find it in those rustic kinsmen we have disowned, would have been useful as a supplement to your royal legs; and whereas my good lord is now fain to totter on two stanchions, were he only a kangaroo, like the monarchs of old, the majesty of Odo would be dignified, by standing firm on a tripod."
"A very witty conceit! But have a care, Azzageddi; your theory applies not 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 sex carries the purse."
"Ha, ha!"
"My lord, why this mirth? Let us be serious. Although man is no longer a kangaroo, he may be said to be an inferior species of plant. Plants proper are perhaps insensible of the circulation of their sap: we mortals are physically unconscious of the circulation of the blood; and for many ages were not even aware of the fact. Plants know nothing of their interiors:-three score years and ten we trundle about ours, and never get a peep at them; plants stand on their stalks:-we stalk on our legs; no plant flourishes over its dead root:-dead in the grave, man lives no longer above ground; plants die without food:-so we. And now for the difference. Plants elegantly inhale nourishment, without looking it up: like lords, they stand still and are 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 love and multiply; but excel us in all amorous enticements, wooing and winning by soft pollens and essences. Plants abide in one place, and live: we must travel or die. Plants flourish without us: we must perish without them."
"Enough Azzageddi!" cried Media. "Open not thy lips till to-morrow."'
CHAPTER LII
The Charming Yoomy Sings
The morrow came; and three abreast, with snorting prows, we raced along; our mat-sails panting to the breeze. All present partook of the life of the air; and unanimously Yoomy was called upon for a song. The canoes were passing a long, white reef, sparkling with shells, like a jeweler'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 his beard, and at every couplet looking up expectantly, as if he desired the company to think, that he was counting upon that line as the last;
But now, starting to his feet, he exclaimed, "Hold, minstrel! thy muse's drapery is becoming disordered: no more!"
"Then no more it shall be," said Yoomy, "But you have lost a glorious sequel."
CHAPTER LIII
They 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 south stretching far out of sight. "All hail, Kolumbo!" cried Yoomy.
Coasting by a portion of it, which Mohi called Kanneeda, a province of King Bello's, we perceived the groves rocking in the wind; their flexible boughs bending like bows; and the leaves flying forth, and darkening the landscape, like flocks of pigeons.
"Those groves must soon fall," said Mohi.
"Not so," said Babbalanja. "My lord, as these violent gusts are formed by the hostile meeting of two currents, one from over the lagoon, the other from land; they may be taken as significant of the occasional variances between Kanneeda and Dominora."
"Ay," said Media, "and as Mohi hints, the breeze from Dominora must soon overthrow the groves of Kanneeda."
"Not if the land-breeze holds, my lord;-one breeze oft blows another home.-Stand up, and gaze! From cape to cape, this whole main we see, is young and froward. And far southward, past this Kanneeda and Vivenza, are haughty, overbearing streams, which at their mouths dam back the ocean, and long refuse to mix their freshness with the foreign brine:-so bold, so strong, so bent on hurling off aggression is 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; and boundless fields, that may be had for seeing. Here, your foes are forests, struck down with bloodless maces.-Ho! Mardi's Poor, and Mardi's Strong! ye, who starve or beg; seventh-sons who slave for earth'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; and tell us whether Dominora and the kings of Porpheero do not own some small portion of this great continent, which just now you poetically pronounced as the spoil of any vagabonds who may choose to settle therein? 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 Dominora to claim allegiance from all the progeny she spawns. As well might the old patriarch of the flood reappear, and claim the right of rule over all mankind, as descended from the loins of his three roving sons.
"'Tis the old law:-the East peoples the West, the West the East; flux and reflux. And time may come, after the rise and fall of nations yet unborn, that, risen from its future ashes, Porpheero shall be the promised land, and from her surplus hordes Kolumbo people it."
Still coasting on, next day, we came to Vivenza; and as Media desired to land first at a point midway between its extremities, in order to behold the convocation of chiefs supposed to be assembled at this season, we held on our way, till we gained a lofty ridge, jutting out into the lagoon, a bastion to the neighboring land. It terminated in a lofty natural arch of solid trap. Billows beat against its base. But above, waved an inviting copse, wherein was revealed an open temple 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 the arch?"
Studying those immense hieroglyphics awhile, antiquarian Mohi still eyeing them, said slowly:-"In-this-re-publi-can-land-all-men-areborn-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 small hieroglyphic or two hidden away in yonder angle.-Interpret them, old man."
After much screwing of his eyes, for those characters were very minute, 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 LIV
They 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 land as this? Is it not a great and extensive republic? Pray, observe how tall 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; his empires, villages; his palm-trees, shrubs."
"True," said Babbalanja. "But great Oro must have had some hand in making your mountains and streams.-Would ye have been as great in a desert?"
"Where is your king?" asked Media, drawing himself up in his robe, and cocking his crown.
"Ha, ha, my fine fellow! We are all kings here; royalty breathes in the common air. But come on, come on. Let us show you our great Temple of Freedom."
And so saying, irreverently grasping his sacred arm, they conducted us toward a lofty structure, planted upon a bold hill, and supported by thirty pillars of palm; four quite green; as if recently added; and beyond these, an almost interminable vacancy, as if all the palms in Mardi, 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 man with a collar round his neck, and the red marks of stripes upon his back, was just in the act of hoisting a tappa standard-correspondingly striped. Other collared menials were going in and out of the temple.
Near the porch, stood an image like that on the top of the arch we had seen. 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 middle of which, a great fire was burning. Around it, were many chiefs, robed in long togas, and presenting strange contrasts in their style of tattooing.
Some were sociably laughing, and chatting; others diligently making excavations between their teeth with slivers of bamboo; or turning their heads into mills, were grinding up leaves and ejecting their juices. Some were busily inserting t
he down of a thistle into their ears. Several stood erect, intent upon maintaining striking attitudes; their javelins tragically crossed upon their chests. They would have looked very imposing, were it not, that in rear their vesture was sadly disordered. Others, with swelling fronts, seemed chiefly indebted to their dinners for their dignity. Many were nodding and napping. 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 placing them into the hands of little boys, in gay turbans and trim little girdles, who thereupon fled as if with salvation for the dying.
It was a crowded scene; the dusky chiefs, here and there, grouped together, and their fantastic tattooings showing like the carved work on quaint old chimney-stacks, seen from afar. But one of their number overtopped all the rest. As when, drawing nigh unto old Rome, amid the crowd of sculptured columns and gables, St. Peter's grand dome soars far aloft, serene in the upper air; so, showed one calm grand forehead among those of this mob of chieftains. That head was Saturnina's. Gall and Spurzheim! saw you ever such a brow? — poised like an avalanche, under the shadow of a forest! woe betide the devoted valleys below! Lavatar! behold those lips, — like mystic scrolls! Those eyes, — like panthers' caves at the base of Popocatepetl!
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