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Mardi and A Voyage Thither, Volume 1
Chapter 69. The Company Discourse, And Braid-Beard Rehearses A Legend
Herman Melville
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       _ CHAPTER LXIX. The Company Discourse, And Braid-Beard Rehearses A Legend
       Finding in Valapee no trace of her whom we sought, and but little pleased with the cringing demeanor of the people, and the wayward follies of Peepi their lord, we early withdrew from the isle.
       As we glided away, King Media issued a sociable decree. He declared it his royal pleasure, that throughout the voyage, all stiffness and state etiquette should be suspended: nothing must occur to mar the freedom of the party. To further this charming plan, he doffed his symbols of royalty, put off his crown, laid aside his scepter, and assured us that he would not wear them again, except when we landed; and not invariably, then.
       "Are we not all now friends and companions?" he said. "So companions and friends let us be. I unbend my bow; do ye likewise."
       "But are we not to be dignified?" asked Babbalanja.
       "If dignity be free and natural, be as dignified as you please; but away with rigidities."
       "Away they go," said Babbalanja; "and, my lord, now that you mind me of it, I have often thought, that it is all folly and vanity for any man to attempt a dignified carriage. Why, my lord,"--frankly crossing his legs where he lay--"the king, who receives his embassadors with a majestic toss of the head, may have just recovered from the tooth- ache. That thought should cant over the spine he bears so bravely."
       "Have a care, sir! there is a king within hearing."
       "Pardon, my lord; I was merely availing myself of the immunity bestowed upon the company. Hereafter, permit a subject to rebel against your sociable decrees. I will not be so frank any more."
       "Well put, Babbalanja; come nearer; here, cross your legs by mine; you have risen a cubit in my regard. Vee-Vee, bring us that gourd of wine; so, pass it round with the cups. Now, Yoomy, a song!"
       And a song was sung.
       And thus did we sail; pleasantly reclining on the mats stretched out beneath the canopied howdah.
       At length, we drew nigh to a rock, called Pella, or The Theft. A high, green crag, toppling over its base, and flinging a cavernous shadow upon the lagoon beneath, bubbling with the moisture that dropped.
       Passing under this cliff was like finding yourself, as some sea- hunters unexpectedly have, beneath the open, upper jaw of a whale; which, descending, infallibly entombs you. But familiar with the rock, our paddlers only threw back their heads, to catch the cool, pleasant tricklings from the mosses above.
       Wiping away several glittering beads from his beard, old Mohi turning round where he sat, just outside the canopy, solemnly affirmed, that the drinking of that water had cured many a man of ambition.
       "How so, old man?" demanded Media.
       "Because of its passing through the ashes of ten kings, of yore buried in a sepulcher, hewn in the heart of the rock."
       "Mighty kings, and famous, doubtless," said Babbalanja, "whose bones were thought worthy of so noble and enduring as urn. Pray, Mohi, their names and terrible deeds."
       "Alas! their sepulcher only remains."
       "And, no doubt, like many others, they made that sepul for themselves. They sleep sound, my word for it, old man. But I very much question, if, were the rock rent, any ashes would be found. Mohi, I deny that those kings ever had any bones to bury."
       "Why, Babbalanja," said Media, "since you intimate that they never had ghosts to give up, you ignore them in toto; denying the very fact of their being even defunct."
       "Ten thousand pardons, my lord, no such discourtesy would I do the anonymous memory of the illustrious dead. But whether they ever lived or not, it is all the same with them now. Yet, grant that they lived; then, if death be a deaf-and-dumb death, a triumphal procession over their graves would concern them not. If a birth into brightness, then Mardi must seem to them the most trivial of reminiscences. Or, perhaps, theirs may be an utter lapse of memory concerning sublunary things; and they themselves be not themselves, as the butterfly is not the larva."
       Said Yoomy, "Then, Babbalanja, you account that a fit illustration of the miraculous change to be wrought in man after death?"
       "No; for the analogy has an unsatisfactory end. From its chrysalis state, the silkworm but becomes a moth, that very quickly expires. Its longest existence is as a worm. All vanity, vanity, Yoomy, to seek in nature for positive warranty to these aspirations of ours. Through all her provinces, nature seems to promise immortality to life, but destruction to beings. Or, as old Bardianna has it, if not against us, nature is not for us."
       Said Media, rising, "Babbalanja, you have indeed put aside the courtier; talking of worms and caterpillars to me, a king and a demi- god! To renown, for your theme: a more agreeable topic."
       "Pardon, once again, my lord. And since you will, let us discourse of that subject. First, I lay it down for an indubitable maxim, that in itself all posthumous renown, which is the only renown, is valueless. Be not offended, my lord. To the nobly ambitious, renown hereafter may be something to anticipate. But analyzed, that feverish typhoid feeling of theirs may be nothing more than a flickering fancy, that now, while living, they are recognized as those who will be as famous in their shrouds, as in their girdles."
       Said Yoomy, "But those great and good deeds, Babbalanja, of which the philosophers so often discourse: must it not be sweet to believe that their memory will long survive us; and we ourselves in them?"
       "I speak now," said Babbalanja, "of the ravening for fame which even appeased, like thirst slaked in the desert, yields no felicity, but only relief; and which discriminates not in aught that will satisfy its cravings. But let me resume. Not an hour ago, Braid-Beard was telling us that story of prince Ottimo, who inodorous while living, expressed much delight at the prospect of being perfumed and embalmed, when dead. But was not Ottimo the most eccentric of mortals? For few men issue orders for their shrouds, to inspect their quality beforehand. Far more anxious are they about the texture of the sheets in which their living limbs lie. And, my lord, with some rare exceptions, does not all Mardi, by its actions, declare, that it is far better to be notorious now, than famous hereafter?"
       "A base sentiment, my lord," said Yoomy. "Did not poor Bonja, the unappreciated poet, console himself for the neglect of his contemporaries, by inspiriting thoughts of the future?"
       "In plain words by bethinking him of the glorious harvest of bravos his ghost would reap for him," said Babbalanja; "but Banjo,--Bonjo,-- Binjo,--I never heard of him."
       "Nor I," said Mohi.
       "Nor I," said Media.
       "Poor fellow!" cried Babbalanja; "I fear me his harvest is not yet ripe."
       "Alas!" cried Yoomy; "he died more than a century ago."
       "But now that you speak of unappreciated poets, Yoomy," said Babbalanja, "Shall I give you a piece of my mind?" "Do," said Mohi, stroking his beard.
       "He, who on all hands passes for a cypher to-day, if at all remembered hereafter, will be sure to pass for the same. For there is more likelihood of being overrated while living, than of being underrated when dead. And to insure your fame, you must die."
       "A rather discouraging thought for your race. But answer: I assume that King Media is but a mortal like you; now, how may I best perpetuate my name?"
       Long pondered Babbalanja; then said, "Carve it, my lord, deep into a ponderous stone, and sink it, face downward, into the sea; for the unseen foundations of the deep are more enduring than the palpable tops of the mountains."
       Sailing past Pella, we gained a view of its farther side; and seated in a lofty cleft, beheld a lonely fisherman; solitary as a seal on an iceberg; his motionless line in the water.
       "What recks he of the ten kings," said Babbalanja.
       "Mohi," said Media, "methinks there is another tradition concerning that rock: let us have it."
       "In old times of genii and giants, there dwelt in barren lands, not very remote from our outer reef, but since submerged, a band of evil- minded, envious goblins, furlongs in stature, and with immeasurable arms; who from time to time cast covetous glances upon our blooming isles. Long they lusted; till at last, they waded through the sea, strode over the reef, and seizing the nearest islet, rolled it over and over, toward an adjoining outlet.
       "But the task was hard; and day-break surprised them in the midst of their audacious thieving; while in the very act of giving the devoted land another doughty surge and Somerset. Leaving it bottom upward and midway poised, gardens under water, its foundations in air, they precipitately fled; in their great haste, deserting a comrade, vainly struggling to liberate his foot caught beneath the overturned land."
       "This poor fellow now raised such an outcry, as to awaken the god Upi, or the Archer, stretched out on a long cloud in the East; who forthwith resolved to make an example of the unwilling lingerer. Snatching his bow, he let fly an arrow. But overshooting its mark, it pierced through and through, the lofty promontory of a neighboring island; making an arch in it, which remaineth even unto this day. A second arrow, however, accomplished its errand: the slain giant sinking prone to the bottom."
       "And now," added Mohi, "glance over the gunwale, and you will see his remains petrified into white ribs of coral."
       "Ay, there they are," said Yoomy, looking down into the water where they gleamed. "A fanciful legend, Braid-beard."
       "Very entertaining," said Media.
       "Even so," said Babbalanja. "But perhaps we lost time in listening to it; for though we know it, we are none the wiser."
       "Be not a cynic," said Media. "No pastime is lost time."
       Musing a moment, Babbalanja replied, "My lord, that maxim may be good as it stands; but had you made six words of it, instead of six syllables, you had uttered a better and a deeper." _
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本书目录

Preface
Chapter 1. Foot In Stirrup
Chapter 2. A Calm
Chapter 3. A King For A Comrade
Chapter 4. A Chat In The Clouds
Chapter 5. Seats Secured And Portmanteaus Packed
Chapter 6. Eight Bells
Chapter 7. A Pause
Chapter 8. They Push Off, Velis Et Remis
Chapter 9. The Watery World Is All Before Them
Chapter 10. They Arrange Their Canopies And Lounges...
Chapter 11. Jarl Afflicted With The Lockjaw
Chapter 12. More About Being In An Open Boat
Chapter 13. Of The Chondropterygii...
Chapter 14. Jarl's Misgivings
Chapter 15. A Stitch In Time Saves Nine
Chapter 16. They Are Becalmed
Chapter 17. In High Spirits, They Push On For The Terra Incognita
Chapter 18. My Lord Shark And His Pages
Chapter 19. Who Goes There?
Chapter 20. Noises And Portents
Chapter 21. Man Ho!
Chapter 22. What Befel The Brigantine At The Pearl Shell Islands
Chapter 23. Sailing From The Island They Pillage The Cabin
Chapter 24. Dedicated To The College Of Physicians And Surgeons
Chapter 25. Peril A Peace-Maker
Chapter 26. Containing A Pennyweight Of Philosophy
Chapter 27. In Which The Past History Op The Parki Is Concluded
Chapter 28. Suspicions Laid, And Something About The Calmuc
Chapter 29. What They Lighted Upon In Further Searching The Craft...
Chapter 30. Hints For A Full Length Of Samoa
Chapter 31. Rovings Alow And Aloft
Chapter 32. Xiphius Platypterus
Chapter 33. Otard
Chapter 34. How They Steered On Their Way
Chapter 35. Ah, Annatoo!
Chapter 36. The Parki Gives Up The Ghost
Chapter 37. Once More They Take To The Chamois
Chapter 38. The Sea On Fire
Chapter 39. They Fall In With Strangers
Chapter 40. Sire And Sons
Chapter 41. A Fray
Chapter 42. Remorse
Chapter 43. The Tent Entered
Chapter 44. Away
Chapter 45. Reminiscences
Chapter 46. The Chamois With A Roving Commission
Chapter 47. Yillah, Jarl, And Samoa
Chapter 48. Something Under The Surface
Chapter 49. Yillah
Chapter 50. Yillah In Ardair
Chapter 51. The Dream Begins To Fade
Chapter 52. World Ho!
Chapter 53. The Chamois Ashore
Chapter 54. A Gentleman From The Sun
Chapter 55. Tiffin In A Temple
Chapter 56. King Media A Host
Chapter 57. Taji Takes Counsel With Himself
Chapter 58. Mardi By Night And Yillah By Day
Chapter 59. Their Morning Meal
Chapter 60. Belshazzar On The Bench
Chapter 61. An Incognito
Chapter 62. Taji Retires From The World
Chapter 63. Odo And Its Lord
Chapter 64. Yillah A Phantom
Chapter 65. Taji Makes Three Acquaintances
Chapter 66. With A Fair Wind, At Sunrise They Sail
Chapter 67. Little King Peepi
Chapter 68. How Teeth Were Regarded In Valapee
Chapter 69. The Company Discourse, And Braid-Beard Rehearses A Legend
Chapter 70. The Minstrel Leads Off With A Paddle-Song...
Chapter 71. They Land Upon The Island Of Juam
Chapter 72. A Book From The Chronicles Of Mohi
Chapter 73. Something More Of The Prince
Chapter 74. Advancing Deeper Into The Vale, They Encounter Donjalolo
Chapter 75. Time And Temples
Chapter 76. A Pleasant Place For A Lounge
Chapter 77. The House Of The Afternoon
Chapter 78. Babbalanja Solus
Chapter 79. The Center Of Many Circumferences
Chapter 80. Donjalolo In The Bosom Of His Family
Chapter 81. Wherein Babbalanja Relates The Adventure Of One Karkeke...
Chapter 82. How Donjalolo, Sent Agents To The Surrounding Isles; With The Result
Chapter 83. They Visit The Tributary Islets
Chapter 84. Taji Sits Down To Dinner With Five-And-Twenty Kings, And A Royal Time They Have
Chapter 85. After Dinner
Chapter 86. Of Those Scamps The Plujii
Chapter 87. Nora-Bamma
Chapter 88. In A Calm, Hautia's Heralds Approach
Chapter 89. Braid-Beard Rehearses The Origin Of The Isle Of Rogues
Chapter 90. Rare Sport At Ohonoo
Chapter 91. Of King Uhia And His Subjects
Chapter 92. The God Keevi And The Precipice Op Mondo
Chapter 93. Babbalanja Steps In Between Mohi And Yoomy...
Chapter 94. Of That Jolly Old Lord, Borabolla...
Chapter 95. That Jolly Old Lord Borabolla Laugh...
Chapter 96. Samoa A Surgeon
Chapter 97. Faith And Knowledge
Chapter 98. The Tale Of A Traveler
Chapter 99. "Marnee Ora, Ora Marnee"
Chapter 100. The Pursuer Himself Is Pursued
Chapter 101. The Iris
Chapter 102. They Depart From Mondoldo
Chapter 103. As They Sail
Chapter 104. Wherein Babbalanja Broaches A Diabolical Theory...