Some Pleasant, Shady Talk In The Groves, Between My Lords Abrazza And Media, Babbalanja, Mohi, And Yoomy Abrazza had a cool retreat--a grove of dates; where we were used to lounge of noons, and mix our converse with the babble of the rills; and mix our punches in goblets chased with grapes.

And as ever, King Abrazza was the prince of hosts.
"Your crown," he said to Media; and with his own, he hung it on a bough.
"Be not ceremonious:" and stretched his royal legs upon the turf.
"Wine!" and his pages poured it out.
So on the grass we lounged; and King Abrazza, who loved his antique ancestors; and loved old times; and would not talk of moderns;--bade Yoomy sing old songs; bade Mohi rehearse old histories; bade Babbalanja tell of old ontologies; and commanded all, meanwhile, to drink his old, old wine.
So, all round we quaffed and quoted.
At last, we talked of old Homeric bards:--those who, ages back, harped, and begged, and groped their blinded way through all this charitable Mardi; receiving coppers then, and immortal glory now.
ABRAZZA--How came it, that they all were blind?
BABBALANJA--It was endemical, your Highness.

Few grand poets have good eyes; for they needs blind must be, who ever gaze upon the sun.
Vavona himself was blind: when, in the silence of his secret bower, he said--"I will build another world.

Therein, let there be kings and slaves, philosophers and wits; whose checkered actions--strange, grotesque, and merry-sad, will entertain my idle moods." So, my lord, Vavona played at kings and crowns, and men and manners; and loved that lonely game to play.
ABRAZZA--Vavona seemed a solitary Mardian; who seldom went abroad; had few friends; and shunning others, was shunned by them.
BABBALANJA--But shunned not himself, my lord; like gods, great poets dwell alone; while round them, roll the worlds they build.
MEDIA--You seem to know all authors:--you must have heard of Lombardo, Babbalanja; he who flourished many ages since.
BABBALANJA--I have; and his grand Kortanza know by heart.
MEDIA (_to Abrazza._)--A very curious work, that, my lord.
ABRAZZA--Yes, my dearest king.

But, Babbalanja, if Lombardo had aught to tell to Mardi--why choose a vehicle so crazy?
BABBALANJA--It was his nature, I suppose.
ABRAZZA--But so it would not have been, to me.
BABBALANJA--Nor would it have been natural, for my noble lord Abrazza, to have worn Lombardo's head:--every man has his own, thank Oro! ABBRAZZA--A curious work: a very curious work.