- description
- # CHAPTER LXXVIII. They Embark
## Overview
This is a chapter from the novel [Mardi: And a Voyage Thither](arke:01KG8AJ8ZNB03D0FWFP362WQEN) by Herman Melville. It was extracted from the file [mardi_vol2.txt](arke:01KG89J1954N2G0NAERBNJXEX9) and is part of the [Melville Complete Works](arke:01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW) collection. The chapter spans lines 11387 to 11471 of the source file.
## Context
This chapter is preceded by [CHAPTER LXXVII. They Sup](arke:01KG8AJW038SPT30W81W3A9MBY) and followed by [CHAPTER LXXIX. Babbalanja At The Full Of The Moon](arke:01KG8AJW03QE4B21RZN4ATXFY1) within the novel.
## Contents
In this chapter, King Abrazza sends word to Media that he is indisposed and cannot join the yachting party. Media responds with a message for the king, and Babbalanja adds a message for Azzageddi. The narrative then describes their sailing journey, where they encounter a thickly wooded, "imprisoned island" full of "uncomplaining woes," which they decide to avoid. They also steer clear of a gloomy land with volcanic crags and mines ruled by King Klanko, where slaves suffer and die. Babbalanja questions whether they should only seek the good and avoid all evil. The chapter concludes with the travelers sailing towards another shore in the moonlight.
- description_generated_at
- 2026-01-30T20:49:03.171Z
- description_model
- gemini-2.5-flash-lite
- description_title
- CHAPTER LXXVIII. They Embark
- end_line
- 11471
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:47:38.723Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 11387
- text
- CHAPTER LXXVIII.
They Embark
Next morning, King Abrazza sent frigid word to Media that the day was
very fine for yachting; but he much regretted that indisposition would
prevent his making one of the party, who that morning doubtless would
depart his isle.
“My compliments to your king,” said Media to the chamberlains, “and say
the royal notice to quit was duly received.”
“Take Azzageddi’s also,” said Babbalanja; “and say, I hope his Highness
will not fail in his appointment with me:—the first midnight after he
dies; at the grave-yard corner;—there I’ll be, and grin again!”
Sailing on, the next land we saw was thickly wooded: hedged round about
by mangrove trees; which growing in the water, yet lifted high their
boughs. Here and there were shady nooks, half verdure and half water.
Fishes rippled, and canaries sung.
“Let us break through, my lord,” said Yoomy, “and seek the shore. Its
solitudes must prove reviving.” “Solitudes they are,” cried Mohi.
“Peopled but not enlivened,” said Babbalanja. “Hard landing here,
minstrel! see you not the isle is hedged?”
“Why, break through, then,” said Media. “Yillah is not here.”
“I mistrusted it,” sighed Yoomy; “an imprisoned island! full of
uncomplaining woes: like many others we must have glided by,
unheedingly. Yet of them have I heard. This isle many pass, marking its
outward brightness, but dreaming not of the sad secrets here embowered.
Haunt of the hopeless! In those inland woods brood Mardians who have
tasted Mardi, and found it bitter—the draught so sweet to
others!—maidens whose unimparted bloom has cankered in the bud; and
children, with eyes averted from life’s dawn—like those new-oped
morning blossoms which, foreseeing storms, turn and close.”
“Yoomy’s rendering of the truth,” said Mohi.
“Why land, then?” said Media. “No merry man of sense—no demi-god like
me, will do it. Let’s away; let’s see all that’s pleasant, or that
seems so, in our circuit, and, if possible, shun the sad.”
“Then we have circled not the round reef wholly,” said Babbalanja, “but
made of it a segment. For this is far from being the first sad land, my
lord, that we have slighted at your instance.”
“No more. I will have no gloom. A chorus! there, ye paddlers! spread
all your sails; ply paddles; breeze up, merry winds!”
And so, in the saffron sunset, we neared another shore.
A gloomy-looking land! black, beetling crags, rent by volcanic clefts;
ploughed up with water-courses, and dusky with charred woods. The beach
was strewn with scoria and cinders; in dolorous soughs, a chill wind
blew; wails issued from the caves; and yellow, spooming surges, lashed
the moaning strand.
“Shall we land?” said Babbalanja.
“Not here,” cried Yoomy; “no Yillah here.”
“No,” said Media. “This is another of those lands far better to avoid.”
“Know ye not,” said Mohi, “that here are the mines of King Klanko,
whose scourged slaves, toiling in their pits, so nigh approach the
volcano’s bowels, they hear its rumblings? ‘Yet they must work on,’
cries Klanko, ‘the mines still yield!’ And daily his slaves’ bones are
brought above ground, mixed with the metal masses.”
“Set all sail there, men! away!”
“My lord,” said Babbalanja; “still must we shun the unmitigated evil;
and only view the good; or evil so mixed therewith, the mixture’s
both?”
Half vailed in misty clouds, the harvest-moon now rose; and in that
pale and haggard light, all sat silent; each man in his own secret
mood: best knowing his own thoughts.
- title
- CHAPTER LXXVIII. They Embark