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- CHAPTER CIV.
Wherein Babbalanja Broaches A Diabolical Theory, And In His Own Person
Proves It
“A truce!” cried Media, “here comes a gallant before the wind.—Look,
Taji!”
Turning, we descried a sharp-prowed canoe, dashing on, under the
pressure of an immense triangular sail, whose outer edges were
streaming with long, crimson pennons. Flying before it, were several
small craft, belonging to the poorer sort of Islanders.
“Out of his way there, ye laggards,” cried Media, “or that mad prince,
Tribonnora, will ride over ye with a rush!”
“And who is Tribonnora,” said Babbalanja, “that he thus bravely diverts
himself, running down innocent paddlers?”
“A harum-scarum young chief,” replied Media, “heir to three islands; he
likes nothing better than the sport you now see see him at.”
“He must be possessed by a devil,” said Mohi.
Said Babbalanja, “Then he is only like all of us.” “What say you?”
cried Media.
“I say, as old Bardianna in the Nine hundred and ninety ninth book of
his immortal Ponderings saith, that all men—”
“As I live, my lord, he has swamped three canoes,” cried Mohi, pointing
off the beam.
But just then a fiery fin-back whale, having broken into the paddock of
the lagoon, threw up a high fountain of foam, almost under Tribonnora’s
nose; who, quickly turning about his canoe, cur-like slunk off; his
steering-paddle between his legs.
Comments over; “Babbalanja, you were going to quote,” said Media.
“Proceed.”
“Thank you, my lord. Says old Bardianna, ‘All men are possessed by
devils; but as these devils are sent into men, and kept in them, for an
additional punishment; not garrisoning a fortress, but limboed in a
bridewell; so, it may be more just to say, that the devils themselves
are possessed by men, not men by them.’”
“Faith!” cried Media, “though sometimes a bore, your old Bardianna is a
trump.”
“I have long been of that mind, my lord. But let me go on. Says
Bardianna, ‘Devils are divers;—strong devils, and weak devils; knowing
devils, and silly devils; mad devils, and mild devils; devils, merely
devils; devils, themselves bedeviled; devils, doubly bedeviled.”
“And in the devil’s name, what sort of a devil is yours?” cried Mohi.
“Of him anon; interrupt me not, old man. Thus, then, my lord, as devils
are divers, divers are the devils in men. Whence, the wide difference
we see. But after all, the main difference is this:—that one man’s
devil is only more of a devil than another’s; and be bedeviled as much
as you will; yet, may you perform the most bedeviled of actions with
impunity, so long as you only bedevil yourself. For it is only when
your deviltry injures another, that the other devils conspire to
confine yours for a mad one. That is to say, if you be easily handled.
For there are many bedeviled Bedlamites in Mardi, doing an infinity of
mischief, who are too brawny in the arms to be tied.”
“A very devilish doctrine that,” cried Mohi. “I don’t believe it.”
“My lord,” said Babbalanja, “here’s collateral proof;—the sage lawgiver
Yamjamma, who flourished long before Bardianna, roundly asserts, that
all men who knowingly do evil are bedeviled; for good is happiness;
happiness the object of living; and evil is not good.”
“If the sage Yamjamma said that,” said old Mohi, “the sage Yamjamma
might have bettered the saying; it’s not quite so plain as it might
be.”
“Yamjamma disdained to be plain; he scorned to be fully comprehended by
mortals. Like all oracles, he dealt in dark sayings. But old Bardianna
was of another sort; he spoke right out, going straight to the point
like a javelin; especially when he laid it down for a universal maxim,
that minus exceptions, all men are bedeviled.”
“Of course, then,” said Media, “you include yourself among the number.”
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