- end_line
- 5926
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:09.927Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 5865
- text
- of Kolumbo, no inconsiderable part of which was embraced by Vivenza,
was the last island discovered in the Archipelago.
In good round truth, and as if an impartialist from Arcturus spoke it,
Vivenza was a noble land. Like a young tropic tree she stood, laden
down with greenness, myriad blossoms, and the ripened fruit
thick-hanging from one bough. She was promising as the morning.
Or Vivenza might be likened to St. John, feeding on locusts and wild
honey, and with prophetic voice, crying to the nations from the
wilderness. Or, child-like, standing among the old robed kings and
emperors of the Archipelago, Vivenza seemed a young Messiah, to whose
discourse the bearded Rabbis bowed.
So seemed Vivenza in its better aspect. Nevertheless, Vivenza was a
braggadocio in Mardi; the only brave one ever known. As an army of
spurred and crested roosters, her people chanticleered at the
resplendent rising of their sun. For shame, Vivenza! Whence thy
undoubted valor? Did ye not bring it with ye from the bold old shores
of Dominora, where there is a fullness of it left? What isle but
Dominora could have supplied thee with that stiff spine of thine?— That
heart of boldest beat? Oh, Vivenza! know that true grandeur is too big
for a boast; and nations, as well as men, may be too clever to be
great.
But what more of King Bello? Notwithstanding his territorial
acquisitiveness, and aversion to relinquishing stolen nations, he was
yet a glorious old king; rather choleric—a word and a blow—but of a
right royal heart. Rail at him as they might, at bottom, all the isles
were proud of him. And almost in spite of his rapacity, upon the whole,
perhaps, they were the better for his deeds. For if sometimes he did
evil with no very virtuous intentions, he had fifty, ways of
accomplishing good with the best; and a thousand ways of doing good
without meaning it. According to an ancient oracle, the hump-backed
monarch was but one of the most conspicuous pieces on a board, where
the gods played for their own entertainment.
But here it must not be omitted, that of late, King Bello had somewhat
abated his efforts to extend his dominions. Various causes were
assigned. Some thought it arose from the fact that already he found his
territories too extensive for one scepter to rule; that his more remote
colonies largely contributed to his tribulations, without
correspondingly contributing to his revenues. Others affirmed that his
hump was getting too mighty for him to carry; others still, that the
nations were waving too strong for him. With prophetic solemnity,
head-shaking sages averred that he was growing older and older had
passed his grand climacteric; and though it was a hale old age with
him, yet it was not his lusty youth; that though he was daily getting
rounder, and rounder in girth, and more florid of face, that these,
howbeit, were rather the symptoms of a morbid obesity, than of a
healthful robustness. These wise ones predicted that very soon poor
Bello would go off in an apoplexy.
But in Vivenza there were certain blusterers, who often thus prated:
“The Hump-back’s hour is come; at last the old teamster will be gored
by the nations he’s yoked; his game is done,—let him show his hand and
throw up his scepter; he cumbers Mardi,—let him be cut down and burned;
he stands in the way of his betters,—let him sheer to one side; he has
shut up many eyes, and now himself grows blind; he hath committed
horrible atrocities during his long career, the old sinner! —now, let
him quickly say his prayers and be beheaded.”
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