"Babbalanja," said Media, "you did right in selecting this ebon night
for discussing the theme you did; and truly, you mortals are but too
apt to talk in the dark."

"Ay, my lord, and we mortals may prate still more in the dark, when we
are dead; for methinks, that if we then prate at all, 'twill be in our
sleep. Ah! my lord, think not that in aught I've said this night, I
would assert any wisdom of my own. I but fight against the armed and
crested Lies of Mardi, that like a host, assail me. I am stuck full of
darts; but, tearing them from out me, gasping, I discharge them whence
they come."

So saying, Babbalanja slowly drooped, and fell reclining; then lay
motionless as the marble Gladiator, that for centuries has been dying.



CHAPTER XXXII
My Lord Media Summons Mohi To The Stand


While slowly the night wore on, and the now scudding clouds flown
past, revealed again the hosts in heaven, few words were uttered save
by Media; who, when all others were most sad and silent, seemed but
little moved, or not stirred a jot.

But that night, he filled his flagon fuller than his wont, and drank,
and drank, and pledged the stars.

"Here's to thee, old Arcturus! To thee, old Aldebaran! who ever poise