{"id":"01KG8AKQ15P8MCHEJR0MJZ0PPV","cid":"bafkreien24x6kfnoq5yan6es44k6gvne4ybgbfwt25rlzxaagj3bkxawt4","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":4316,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:09.927Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 5","source_file":"01KG89J1954N2G0NAERBNJXEX9","start_line":4228,"text":"Stand still and receive. Faith is to the thoughtless, doubts to the\r\nthinker.”\r\n\r\n“Then, why think at all? Is it not better for you mortals to clutch\r\nerror as in a vice, than have your fingers meet in your hand? And to\r\nwhat end your eternal inquisitions? You have nothing to substitute. You\r\nsay all is a lie; then out with the truth. Philosopher, your devil is\r\nbut a foolish one, after all. I, a demi-god, never say nay to these\r\nthings.”\r\n\r\n“Yea, my lord, it would hardly answer for Oro himself, were he to come\r\ndown to Mardi, to deny men’s theories concerning him. Did they not\r\nstrike at the rash deity in Alma?”\r\n\r\n“Then, why deny those theories yourself? Babbalanja, you almost affect\r\nmy immortal serenity. Must you forever be a sieve for good grain to run\r\nthrough, while you retain but the chaff? Your tongue is forked. You\r\nspeak two languages: flat folly for yourself, and wisdom for others.\r\nBabbalanja, if you have any belief of your own, keep it; but, in Oro’s\r\nname, keep it secret.”\r\n\r\n“Ay, my lord, in these things wise men are spectators, not actors; wise\r\nmen look on, and say ‘ay.’”\r\n\r\n“Why not say so yourself, then?”\r\n\r\n“My lord, because I have often told you, that I am a fool, and not\r\nwise.”\r\n\r\n“Your Highness,” said Mohi, “this whole discourse seems to have grown\r\nout of the subject of Necessity and Free Will. Now, when a boy, I\r\nrecollect hearing a sage say, that these things were reconcilable.”\r\n\r\n“Ay?” said Media, “what say you to that, now, Babbalanja?”\r\n\r\n“It may be even so, my lord. Shall I tell you a story?”\r\n\r\n“Azzageddi’s stirring now,” muttered Mohi.\r\n\r\n“Proceed,” said Media.\r\n\r\n“King Normo had a fool, called Willi, whom he loved to humor. Now,\r\nthough Willi ever obeyed his lord, by the very instinct of his\r\nservitude, he flattered himself that he was free; and this conceit it\r\nwas, that made the fool so entertaining to the king. One day, said\r\nNormo to his fool,—‘Go, Willi, to yonder tree, and wait there till I\r\ncome,’ ‘Your Majesty, I will,’ said Willi, bowing beneath his jingling\r\nbells; ‘but I presume your Majesty has no objections to my walking on\r\nmy hands:—I am free, I hope.’ ‘Perfectly,’ said Normo, ‘hands or feet,\r\nit’s all the same to me; only do my bidding.’ ‘I thought as much,’ said\r\nWilli; so, swinging his limber legs into the air, Willi, thumb after\r\nthumb, essayed progression. But soon, his bottled blood so rushed\r\ndownward through his neck, that he was fain to turn a somerset and\r\nregain his feet. Said he, ‘Though I am free to do it, it’s not so easy\r\nturning digits into toes; I’ll walk, by gad! which is my other option.’\r\nSo he went straight forward, and did King Normo’s bidding in the\r\nnatural way.”\r\n\r\n“A curious story that,” said Media; “whence came it?”\r\n\r\n“My lord, where every thing, but one, is to be had:—within.”\r\n\r\n“You are charged to the muzzle, then,” said Braid-Beard. “Yes, Mohi;\r\nand my talk is my overflowing, not my fullness.”\r\n\r\n“And what may you be so full of?”\r\n\r\n“Of myself.”\r\n\r\n“So it seems,” said Mohi, whisking away a fly with his beard.\r\n\r\n“Babbalanja,” said Media, “you did right in selecting this ebon night\r\nfor discussing the theme you did; and truly, you mortals are but too\r\napt to talk in the dark.”\r\n\r\n“Ay, my lord, and we mortals may prate still more in the dark, when we\r\nare dead; for methinks, that if we then prate at all, ’twill be in our\r\nsleep. Ah! my lord, think not that in aught I’ve said this night, I\r\nwould assert any wisdom of my own. I but fight against the armed and\r\ncrested Lies of Mardi, that like a host, assail me. I am stuck full of\r\ndarts; but, tearing them from out me, gasping, I discharge them whence\r\nthey come.”\r\n\r\nSo saying, Babbalanja slowly drooped, and fell reclining; then lay\r\nmotionless as the marble Gladiator, that for centuries has been dying.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 5"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJRBVMTTT67SE8KFJCTVQ","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1954N2G0NAERBNJXEX9","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKQ1A7NM4HNADA90AHQSM","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:13.349Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:21.911Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}