{"id":"01KG8AKS9EFCFP8QNNAN10V1WY","cid":"bafkreidworao2njp5h2e37tt2xt6tdr5tsqvx46gwcrlrfw7oaiaz6bbbu","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":6423,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:09.927Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 2","source_file":"01KG89J1954N2G0NAERBNJXEX9","start_line":6344,"text":"“I thought as much,” said Mohi, “for no sooner do I undertake to be\r\nsociable with myself, than I am straightway forced to beat a retreat.”\r\n\r\n“Ay, old man,” said Babbalanja, “many of us Mardians are but sorry\r\nhosts to ourselves. Some hearts are hermits.”\r\n\r\n“If not of yourself, then, Yoomy, of whom else do you think?” asked\r\nMedia.\r\n\r\n“My lord, I seldom think,” said Yoomy, “I but give ear to the voices in\r\nmy calm.”\r\n\r\n“Did Babbalanja speak?” said Media. “But no more of your reveries;” and\r\nso saying Media gradually sunk into a reverie himself.\r\n\r\nThe rest did likewise; and soon, with eyes enchanted, all reclined:\r\ngazing at each other, witless of what we did.\r\n\r\nIt was Media who broke the spell; calling for Vee-Vee our page, his\r\ncalabashes and cups, and nectarines for all.\r\n\r\nEyeing his goblet, Media at length threw himself back, and said:\r\n“Babbalanja, not ten minutes since, we were all absent-minded; now, how\r\nwould you like to step out of your body, in reality; and, as a spirit,\r\nhaunt some shadowy grove?”\r\n\r\n“But our lungs are not wholly superfluous, my lord,” said Babbalanja,\r\nspeaking loud.\r\n\r\n“No, nor our lips,” said Mohi, smacking his over his wine.\r\n\r\n“But could you really be disembodied here in Mardi, Babbalanja, how\r\nwould you fancy it?” said Media.\r\n\r\n“My lord,” said Babbalanja, speaking through half of a nectarine,\r\n“defer putting that question, I beseech, till after my appetite is\r\nsatisfied; for, trust me, no hungry mortal would forfeit his palate, to\r\nbe resolved into the impalpable.”\r\n\r\n“Yet pure spirits we must all become at last, Babbalanja,” said Yoomy,\r\n“even the most ignoble.”\r\n\r\n“Yes, so they say, Yoomy; but if all boors be the immortal sires of\r\nendless dynasties of immortals, how little do our pious patricians bear\r\nin mind their magnificent destiny, when hourly they scorn their\r\ncompanionship. And if here in Mardi they can not abide an equality with\r\nplebeians, even at the altar; how shall they endure them, side by side,\r\nthroughout eternity? But since the prophet Alma asserts, that Paradise\r\nis almost entirely made up of the poor and despised, no wonder that\r\nmany aristocrats of our isles pursue a career, which, according to some\r\ntheologies, must forever preserve the social distinctions so sedulously\r\nmaintained in Mardi. And though some say, that at death every thing\r\nearthy is removed from the spirit, so that clowns and lords both stand\r\non a footing; yet, according to the popular legends, it has ever been\r\nobserved of the ghosts of boors when revisiting Mardi, that invariably\r\nthey rise in their smocks. And regarding our intellectual equality\r\nhere, how unjust, my lord, that after whole years of days end nights\r\nconsecrated to the hard gaining of wisdom, the wisest Mardian of us all\r\nshould in the end find the whole sum of his attainments, at one leap\r\noutstripped by the veriest dunce, suddenly inspired by light divine.\r\nAnd though some hold, that all Mardian lore is vain, and that at death\r\nall mysteries will be revealed; yet, none the less, do they toil and\r\nponder now. Thus, their tongues have one mind, and their understanding\r\nanother.”\r\n\r\n“My lord,” said Mohi, “we have come to the lees; your pardon,\r\nBabbalanja.”\r\n\r\n“Then, Vee-Vee, another calabash! Fill up, Mohi; wash down wine with\r\nwine. Your cup, Babbalanja; any lees?”\r\n\r\n“Plenty, my lord; we philosophers come to the lees very soon.”\r\n\r\n“Flood them over, then; but cease not discoursing; thanks be to the\r\ngods, your mortal palates and tongues can both wag together; fill up, I\r\nsay, Babbalanja; you are no philosopher, if you stop at the tenth cup;\r\nendurance is the test of philosophy all Mardi over; drink, I say, and\r\nmake us wise by precept and example.—Proceed, Yoomy, you look as if you\r\nhad something to say.”\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 2"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJSY0QRGFVSXCEAR0PXHV","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1954N2G0NAERBNJXEX9","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKS9KBGEZY3JNC6PYCSV0","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AKS9KQ1ER0V78EZ1T1B9E","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:15.662Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:24.099Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}