{"id":"01KG8AKY4VDZZPZVDBZ5QXNZ4Y","cid":"bafkreids6mcb7fusiqpcouc4v42tnuqvpfbkgmumaclacws5o574nuixdq","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":9225,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:18.539Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 4","source_file":"01KG89J1HYC04JWXEK48P07WPK","start_line":9146,"text":"the purple valley of Ardair! Thrice hail.\r\n\r\nBut the imperial Marzilla was not for all; gods only could partake; the\r\nKings and demigods of the isles; excluding left-handed descendants of\r\nsad rakes of immortals, in old times breaking heads and hearts in\r\nMardi, bequeathing bars-sinister to many mortals, who now in vain might\r\nurge a claim to a cup-full of right regal Marzilla.\r\n\r\nThe Royal Particular was pressed upon me, by the now jovial Donjalolo.\r\nWith his own sceptered hand charging my flagon to the brim, he declared\r\nhis despotic pleasure, that I should quaff it off to the last lingering\r\nglobule. No hard calamity, truly; for the drinking of this wine was as\r\nthe singing of a mighty ode, or frenzied lyric to the soul.\r\n\r\n“Drink, Taji,” cried Donjalolo, “drink deep. In this wine a king’s\r\nheart is dissolved. Drink long; in this wine lurk the seeds of the life\r\neverlasting. Drink deep; drink long: thou drinkest wisdom and valor at\r\nevery draught. Drink forever, oh Taji, for thou drinkest that which\r\nwill enable thee to stand up and speak out before mighty Oro himself.”\r\n\r\n“Borabolla,” he added, turning round upon a domed old king at his left,\r\n“Was it not the god Xipho, who begged of my great-great- grandsire a\r\ndraught of this same wine, saying he was about to beget a hero?”\r\n\r\n“Even so. And thy glorious Marzilla produced thrice valiant Ononna, who\r\nslew the giants of the reef.”\r\n\r\n“Ha, ha, hear’st that, oh Taji?” And Donjalolo drained another cup.\r\n\r\nAmazing! the flexibility of the royal elbow, and the rigidity of the\r\nroyal spine! More especially as we had been impressed with a notion of\r\ntheir debility. But, sometimes these seemingly enervated young blades\r\napprove themselves steadier of limb, than veteran revelers of very long\r\nstanding.\r\n\r\n“Discharge the basin, and refill it with wine,” cried Donjalolo. “Break\r\nall empty gourds! Drink, kings, and dash your cups at every draught.”\r\n\r\nSo saying, he started from his purple mat; and with one foot planted\r\nunknowingly upon the skull of Marjora; while all the skeletons grinned\r\nat him from the pavement; Donjalolo, holding on high his blood-red\r\ngoblet, burst forth with the following invocation:—\r\n\r\nHa, ha, gods and kings; fill high, one and all;\r\nDrink, drink! shout and drink! mad respond to the call!\r\nFill fast, and fill frill; ’gainst the goblet ne’er sin;\r\nQuaff there, at high tide, to the uttermost rim:—\r\n    Flood-tide, and soul-tide to the brim!\r\n\r\nWho with wine in him fears? who thinks of his cares?\r\nWho sighs to be wise, when wine in him flares?\r\nWater sinks down below, in currents full slow;\r\nBut wine mounts on high with its genial glow:—\r\n    Welling up, till the brain overflow!\r\n\r\nAs the spheres, with a roll, some fiery of soul,\r\nOthers golden, with music, revolve round the pole;\r\n\r\nSo let our cups, radiant with many hued wines,\r\nRound and round in groups circle, our Zodiac’s Signs:—\r\n    Round reeling, and ringing their chimes!\r\n\r\nThen drink, gods and kings; wine merriment brings;\r\nIt bounds through the veins; there, jubilant sings.\r\nLet it ebb, then, and flow; wine never grows dim;\r\nDrain down that bright tide at the foam beaded rim:—\r\n    Fill up, every cup, to the brim!\r\n\r\n\r\nCaught by all present, the chorus resounded again and again. The beaded\r\nwine danced on many a beard; the cataract lifted higher its voice; the\r\ngrotto sent back a shout; the ghosts of the Coral Monarchs seemed\r\nstarting from their insulted bones. But ha, ha, ha, roared forth the\r\nfive-and-twenty kings—alive, not dead—holding both hands to their\r\ngirdles, and baying out their laughter from abysses; like Nimrod’s\r\nhounds over some fallen elk.\r\n\r\nMad and crazy revelers, how ye drank and roared! but kings no more:\r\nvestures loosed; and scepters rolling on the ground.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 4"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJW7Y6WFAG3FMN40GAWWT","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1HYC04JWXEK48P07WPK","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKY4VFZX92E9AR5QEMTN7","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AKY4VP5M71Q97PW8GH7GZ","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:20.635Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:32.906Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}