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 Nulli, "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;--y
etshall 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,blaz
ing 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."