{"id":"01KG8AKQ15KVG5HBWVP2YQ7N05","cid":"bafkreie3vj72t6npqsn5274xyewlpxdyn4owvj6lj6t2vnhlkay7f5yavy","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":4472,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:09.927Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 2","source_file":"01KG89J1954N2G0NAERBNJXEX9","start_line":4389,"text":"henceforth while I live. And at noon, every day will I meet thee, sweet\r\nmaid! And, oh Sun! set not; and poppies bend over us, when next we\r\nembrace!”\r\n\r\n“What ails that somnambulist?” cried Media, rising. “Yoomy, I say! what\r\nails thee?”\r\n\r\n“He must have indulged over freely in those citrons,” said Mohi,\r\nsympathetically rubbing his fruitery. “Ho, Yoomy! a swallow of brine\r\nwill help thee.”\r\n\r\n“Alas,” cried Babbalanja, “do the fairies then wait on repletion? Do\r\nour dreams come from below, and not from the skies? Are we angels, or\r\ndogs? Oh, Man, Man, Man! thou art harder to solve, than the Integral\r\nCalculus—yet plain as a primer; harder to find than the\r\nphilosopher’s-stone—yet ever at hand; a more cunning compound, than an\r\nalchemist’s—yet a hundred weight of flesh, to a penny weight of spirit;\r\nsoul and body glued together, firm as atom to atom, seamless as the\r\nvestment without joint, warp or woof—yet divided as by a river, spirit\r\nfrom flesh; growing both ways, like a tree, and dropping thy topmost\r\nbranches to earth, like thy beard or a banian!—I give thee up, oh Man!\r\nthou art twain—yet indivisible; all things—yet a poor unit at best.”\r\n\r\n“Philosopher you seem puzzled to account for the riddles of your race,”\r\ncried Media, sideways reclining at his ease. “Now, do thou, old Mohi,\r\nstand up before a demi-god, and answer for all.—Draw nigh, so I can eye\r\nthee. What art thou, mortal?”\r\n\r\n“My worshipful lord, a man.”\r\n\r\n“And what are men?”\r\n\r\n“My lord, before thee is a specimen.”\r\n\r\n“I fear me, my lord will get nothing out of that witness,” said\r\nBabbalanja. “Pray you, King Media, let another inquisitor cross-\r\nquestion.”\r\n\r\n“Proceed; take the divan.”\r\n\r\n“A pace or two farther off, there, Mohi; so I can garner thee all in at\r\na glance.—Attention! Rememberest thou, fellow-being, when thou wast\r\nborn?”\r\n\r\n“Not I. Old Braid-Beard had no memory then.”\r\n\r\n“When, then, wast thou first conscious of being?”\r\n\r\n“What time I was teething: my first sensation was an ache.”\r\n\r\n“What dost thou, fellow-being, here in Mardi?”\r\n\r\n“What doth Mardi here, fellow-being, under me?”\r\n\r\n“Philosopher, thou gainest but little by thy questions,” cried Yoomy\r\nadvancing. “Let a poet endeavor.”\r\n\r\n“I abdicate in your favor, then, gentle Yoomy; let me smooth the divan\r\nfor you;—there: be seated.”\r\n\r\n“Now, Mohi, who art thou?” said Yoomy, nodding his bird-of-paradise\r\nplume.\r\n\r\n“The sole witness, it seems, in this case.”\r\n\r\n“Try again minstrel,” cried Babbalanja.\r\n\r\n“Then, what art thou, Mohi?”\r\n\r\n“Even what thou art, Yoomy.”\r\n\r\n“He is too sharp or too blunt for us all,” cried King Media. “His devil\r\nis even more subtle than yours, Babbalanja. Let him go.”\r\n\r\n“Shall I adjourn the court then, my lord?” said Babbalanja.\r\n\r\n“Ay.”\r\n\r\n“Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! All mortals having business at this court, know ye,\r\nthat it is adjourned till sundown of the day, which hath no to-morrow.”\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 2"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJRBN0PDBRWRNHPDPMRY6","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1954N2G0NAERBNJXEX9","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKQ15EG26C1AQAT4YP46B","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:13.349Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:22.212Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}