Spread, heaped up, stacked with good things; and redolent of citrons and grapes, hilling round tall vases of wine; and here and there, waving with fresh orange-boughs, among whose leaves, myriads of small tapers gleamed like fire-flies in groves, — Abrazza's glorious board showed like some banquet in Paradise: Ceres and Pomona presiding; and jolly Bacchus, like a recruit with a mettlesome rifle, staggering back as he fires off the bottles of vivacious champagne.
In ranges, roundabout stood living candelabras:-lackeys, gayly bedecked, with tall torches in their hands; and at one end, stood trumpeters, bugles at their lips.
"This way, my dear Media! — this seat at my left-Noble Taji! — my right. Babbalanja! — Mohi-where you are. But where's pretty Yoomy? — Gone to meditate in the moonlight? ah! — Very good. Let the banquet begin. A blast there!"
And charge all did.
The venison, wild boar's meat, and buffalo-humps, were extraordinary; the wine, of rare vintages, like bottled lightning; and the first course, a brilliant affair, went off like a rocket.
But as yet, Babbalanja joined not in the revels. His mood was on him; and apart he sat; silently eyeing the banquet; and ever and anon muttering, — "Fogle-foggle, fugle-fi. — "
The first fury of the feast over, said King Media, pouring out from a heavy flagon into his goblet, "Abrazza, these suppers are wondrous fine things."
"Ay, my dear lord, much better than dinners."
"So they are, so they are. The dinner-hour is the summer of the day: full of sunshine, I grant; but not like the mellow autumn of supper. A dinner, you know, may go off rather stiffly; but invariably suppers are jovial. At dinners, 'tis not till you take in sail, furl the cloth, bow the lady-passengers out, and make all snug; 'tis not till then, that one begins to ride out the gale with complacency. But at these suppers-Good Oro! your cup is empty, my dear demi-god! — But at these suppers, I say, all is snug and ship-shape before you begin; and when you begin, you waive the beginning, and begin in the middle. And as for the cloth, — but tell us, Braid-Beard, what that old king of Franko, Ludwig the Fat, said of that matter. The cloth for suppers, you know. It's down in your chronicles."
"My lord,"-wiping his beard, — "Old Ludwig was of opinion, that at suppers the cloth was superfluous, unless on the back of some jolly good friar. Said he, 'For one, I prefer sitting right down to the unrobed table.'"
"High and royal authority, that of Ludwig the Fat," said Babbalanja,
"far higher than the authority of Ludwig the Great:-the one, only great by courtesy; the other, fat beyond a peradventure. But they are equally famous; and in their graves, both on a par. For after devouring many a fair province, and grinding the poor of his realm, Ludwig the Great has long since, himself, been devoured by very small worms, and ground into very fine dust. And after stripping many a venison rib, Ludwig the Fat has had his own polished and bleached in the Valley of Death; yea, and his cranium chased with corrodings, like the carved flagon once held to its jaws."
"My lord! my lord!" — cried Abrazza to Media-"this ghastly devil of yours grins worse than a skull. I feel the worms crawling over me! — By Oro we must eject him!"
"No, no, my lord. Let him sit there, as of old the Death's-head graced the feasts of the Pharaohs-let him sit-let him sit-for Death but imparts a flavor to Life-Go on: wag your tongue without fear, Azzageddi! — But come, Braid-Beard! let's hear more of the Ludwigs."
"Well, then, your Highness, of all the eighteen royal Ludwigs of Franko-"
"Who like so many ten-pins, all in a row," interposed Babbalanja-"have been bowled off the course by grim Death."
"Heed him not," said Media-"go on."
"The Debonnaire, the Pious, the Stammerer, the Do-Nothing, the Juvenile, the Quarreler:-of all these, I say, Ludwig the Fat was the best table-man of them all. Such a full orbed paunch was his, that no way could he devise of getting to his suppers, but by getting right into them. Like the Zodiac his table was circular, and full in the middle he sat, like a sun;-all his jolly stews and ragouts revolving around him."
"Yea," said Babbalanja, "a very round sun was Ludwig the Fat. No wonder he's down in the chronicles; several ells about the waist, and King of cups and Tokay. Truly, a famous king: three hundred-weight of lard, with a diadem on top: lean brains and a fat doublet-a demijohn of a demi-god!"
"Is this to be longer borne?" cried Abrazza, starting up. "Quaff that sneer down, devil! on the instant! down with it, to the dregs! This comes, my lord Media, of having a slow drinker at one's board. Like an iceberg, such a fellow frosts the whole atmosphere of a banquet, and is felt a league off We must thrust him out. Guards!"
"Back! touch him not, hounds!" — cried Media. "Your pardon, my lord, but we'll keep him to it; and melt him down in this good wine. Drink!
I command it, drink, Babbalanja!"
"And am I not drinking, my lord? Surely you would not that I should imbibe more than I can hold. The measure being full, all poured in after that is but wasted. I am for being temperate in these things, my good lord. And my one cup outlasts three of yours. Better to sip a pint, than pour down a quart. All things in moderation are good; whence, wine in moderation is good. But all things in excess are bad: whence wine in excess is bad."
"Away with your logic and conic sections! Drink! — But no, no: I am too severe. For of all meals a supper should be the most social and free.
And going thereto we kings, my lord, should lay aside our scepters.-Do as you please Babbalanja."
"You are right, you are right, after all, my dear demi-god," said Abrazza. "And to say truth, I seldom worry myself with the ways of these mortals; for no thanks do we demi-gods get. We kings should be ever indifferent. Nothing like a cold heart; warm ones are ever chafing, and getting into trouble. I let my mortals here in this isle take heed to themselves; only barring them out when they would thrust in their petitions. This very instant, my lord, my yeoman-guard is on duty without, to drive off intruders.-Hark! — what noise is that? — Ho, who comes?"
At that instant, there burst into the hall, a crowd of spearmen, driven before a pale, ragged rout, that loudly invoked King Abrazza.
"Pardon, my lord king, for thus forcing an entrance! But long in vain have we knocked at thy gates! Our grievances are more than we can bear! Give ear to our spokesman, we beseech!"
And from their tumultuous midst, they pushed forward a tall, grim, pine-tree of a fellow, who loomed up out of the throng, like the Peak of Teneriffe among the Canaries in a storm.
"Drive the knaves out! Ho, cowards, guards, turn about! charge upon them! Away with your grievances! Drive them out, I say, drive them out! — High times, truly, my lord Media, when demi-gods are thus annoyed at their wine. Oh, who would reign over mortals!"
So at last, with much difficulty, the ragged rout were ejected; the Peak of Teneriffe going last, a pent storm on his brow; and muttering about some black time that was corning.
While the hoarse murmurs without still echoed through the hall, King Abrazza refilling his cup thus spoke:-"You were saying, my dear lord, that of all meals a supper is the most social and free. Very true. And of all suppers those given by us bachelor demi-gods are the best. Are they not?"
"They are. For Benedict mortals must be home betimes: bachelor demigods are never away."