- description
- # Babbalanja Steps In Between Mohi And Yoomy
## Overview
This is a subsection from Chapter XCIII of Herman Melville's novel *Mardi*, extracted from the file [mardi_vol1.txt](arke:01KG89J1HYC04JWXEK48P07WPK). It is part of the [Melville Complete Works](arke:01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW) collection. The subsection, titled "Babbalanja Steps In Between Mohi And Yoomy," spans lines 9926 to 9987 of the source file.
## Context
This subsection is contained within [CHAPTER XCIII. Babbalanja Steps In Between Mohi And Yoomy; And Yoomy Relates A Legend](arke:01KG8AJWVTKMC0EZ4WMWPFQ2BB) of *Mardi*. It precedes the subsection [Yoomy Relates A Legend](arke:01KG8AKKBPTYX4FN8RR9XR91E3).
## Contents
The text describes a dispute between the characters Mohi, an old historian, and Yoomy, a young poet, regarding the telling of a legend about the islet of Tupia. Mohi is offended by Yoomy's "presumptuous interference" in offering to relate the legend himself. The two trade insults, with Yoomy criticizing Mohi's chronicles as "mangled realities" and Mohi dismissing Yoomy as a "frippery young poetaster." The philosopher Babbalanja intervenes, attempting to mediate the conflict with a maxim borrowed from "old Bardianna," but both Mohi and Yoomy reject his intervention. Media, another character, then directs Yoomy to proceed with the legend.
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- gemini-2.5-flash-lite
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- Babbalanja Steps In Between Mohi And Yoomy
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- 2026-01-30T20:48:09.388Z
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- 9926
- text
- Embarking from Ohonoo, we at length found ourselves gliding by the
pleasant shores of Tupia, an islet which according to Braid-Beard had
for ages remained uninhabited by man. Much curiosity being expressed to
know more of the isle, Mohi was about to turn over his chronicles,
when, with modesty, the minstrel Yoomy interposed; saying, that if my
Lord Media permitted, he himself would relate the legend. From its
nature, deeming the same pertaining to his province as poet; though, as
yet, it had not been versified. But he added, that true pearl shells
rang musically, though not strung upon a cord.
Upon this presumptuous interference, Mohi looked highly offended; and
nervously twitching his beard, uttered something invidious about
frippery young poetasters being too full of silly imaginings to tell a
plain tale.
Said Yoomy, in reply, adjusting his turban, “Old Mohi, let us not
clash. I honor your calling; but, with submission, your chronicles are
more wild than my cantos. I deal in pure conceits of my own; which have
a shapeliness and a unity, however unsubstantial; but you, Braid-Beard,
deal in mangled realities. In all your chapters, you yourself grope in
the dark. Much truth is not in thee, historian. Besides, Mohi: my songs
perpetuate many things which you sage scribes entirely overlook. Have
you not oftentimes come to me, and my ever dewy ballads for
information, in which you and your musty old chronicles were
deficient?”
“In much that is precious, Mohi, we poets are the true historians; we
embalm; you corrode.”
To this Mohi, with some ire, was about to make answer, when, flinging
over his shoulder a new fold of his mantle, Babbalanja spoke thus:
“Peace, rivals. As Bardianna has it, like all who dispute upon
pretensions of their own, you are each nearest the right, when you
speak of the other; and furthest therefrom, when you speak of
yourselves.”
Said Mohi and Yoomy in a breath, “Who sought your opinion, philosopher?
you filcher from old Bardianna, and monger of maxims!”
“You, who have so long marked the vices of Mardi, that you flatter
yourself you have none of your own,” added Braid-Beard.
“You, who only seem wise, because of the contrasting follies of others,
and not of any great wisdom in yourself,” continued the minstrel, with
unwonted asperity.”
“Now here,” said Babballanja, “am I charged upon by a bearded old ram,
and a lamb. One butting with his carious and brittle old frontlet; the
other pushing with its silly head before its horns are sprouted. But
this comes of being impartial. Had I espoused the cause of Yoomy versus
Mohi, or that of Mohi versus Yoomy, I had been sure to have had at
least one voice in my favor. The impartialist insulteth all sides,
saith old Bardianna; but smite with but one hand, and the other shall
be kissed.—Oh incomparable Bardianna!”
“Will no one lay that troubled old ghost,” exclaimed Media, devoutly.
“Proceed with thy legend, Yoomy; and see to it, that it be brief; for I
mistrust me, these legends do but test the patience of the hearers. But
draw a long breath, and begin.”
“A long bow,” muttered Mohi.
- title
- Babbalanja Steps In Between Mohi And Yoomy