{"id":"01KG8AKKW1N8TE7CPKJGKPNQKZ","cid":"bafkreicnmiqj7xwomhf5ykdyrfebca4e6f3ay56xyu3hft4nvvpvijm55m","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":7921,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:09.931Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 2","source_file":"01KG89J1954N2G0NAERBNJXEX9","start_line":7845,"text":"outcries, read as follows:—\r\n\r\n“Sovereign-kings of Vivenza! it is fit you should hearken to wisdom.\r\nBut well aware, that you give ear to little wisdom except of your own;\r\nand that as freemen, you are free to hunt down him who dissents from\r\nyour majesties; I deem it proper to address you anonymously.\r\n\r\n“And if it please you, you may ascribe this voice to the gods: for\r\nnever will you trace it to man.\r\n\r\n“It is not unknown, sovereign-kings! that in these boisterous days, the\r\nlessons of history are almost discarded, as superseded by present\r\nexperiences. And that while all Mardi’s Present has grown out of its\r\nPast, it is becoming obsolete to refer to what has been. Yet,\r\nperadventure, the Past is an apostle.\r\n\r\n“The grand error of this age, sovereign-kings! is the general\r\nsupposition, that the very special Diabolus is abroad; whereas, the\r\nvery special Diabolus has been abroad ever since Mardi began.\r\n\r\n“And the grand error of your nation, sovereign-kings! seems this:—The\r\nconceit that Mardi is now in the last scene of the last act of her\r\ndrama; and that all preceding events were ordained, to bring about the\r\ncatastrophe you believe to be at hand,—a universal and permanent\r\nRepublic.\r\n\r\n“May it please you, those who hold to these things are fools, and not\r\nwise.\r\n\r\n“Time is made up of various ages; and each thinks its own a novelty.\r\nBut imbedded in the walls of the pyramids, which outrun all\r\nchronologies, sculptured stones are found, belonging to yet older\r\nfabrics. And as in the mound-building period of yore, so every age\r\nthinks its erections will forever endure. But as your forests grow\r\napace, sovereign-kings! overrunning the tumuli in your western vales;\r\nso, while deriving their substance from the past, succeeding\r\ngenerations overgrow it; but in time, themselves decay.\r\n\r\n“Oro decrees these vicissitudes.\r\n\r\n“In chronicles of old, you read, sovereign kings! that an eagle from\r\nthe clouds presaged royalty to the fugitive Taquinoo; and a king,\r\nTaquinoo reigned; No end to my dynasty, thought he.\r\n\r\n“But another omen descended, foreshadowing the fall of Zooperbi, his\r\nson; and Zooperbi returning from his camp, found his country a fortress\r\nagainst him. No more kings would she have. And for five hundred\r\ntwelve-moons the Regifugium or King’s-flight, was annually celebrated\r\nlike your own jubilee day. And rampant young orators stormed out\r\ndetestation of kings; and augurs swore that their birds presaged\r\nimmortality to freedom.\r\n\r\n“Then, Romara’s free eagles flew over all Mardi, and perched on the\r\ntopmost diadems of the east.\r\n\r\n“Ever thus must it be.\r\n\r\n“For, mostly, monarchs are as gemmed bridles upon the world, checking\r\nthe plungings of a steed from the Pampas. And republics are as vast\r\nreservoirs, draining down all streams to one level; and so, breeding a\r\nfullness which can not remain full, without overflowing. And thus,\r\nRomara flooded all Mardi, till scarce an Ararat was left of the lofty\r\nkingdoms which had been.\r\n\r\n“Thus, also, did Franko, fifty twelve-moons ago. Thus may she do again.\r\nAnd though not yet, have you, sovereign-kings! in any large degree done\r\nlikewise, it is because you overflow your redundancies within your own\r\nmighty borders; having a wild western waste, which many shepherds with\r\ntheir flocks could not overrun in a day. Yet overrun at last it will\r\nbe; and then, the recoil must come.\r\n\r\n“And, may it please you, that thus far your chronicles had narrated a\r\nvery different story, had your population been pressed and packed, like\r\nthat of your old sire-land Dominora. Then, your great experiment might\r\nhave proved an explosion; like the chemist’s who, stirring his mixture,\r\nwas blown by it into the air.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 2"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJTP2KTDMNH4M9X9D0N8X","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1954N2G0NAERBNJXEX9","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKKW1DPWMKWENR1WT6T1H","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AKKW6F1V0GD24XCFRAHRX","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:10.113Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:25.548Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}