Staring wildly; then calmly gazing round, Media smiled. “Ha! how we royalties ramble in our dreams! I’ve told no secrets?”
“While he seemed to sleep, my lord spoke much,” said Mohi.
“I knew it not, old man; nor would now; but that ye tell me.”
“We dream not ourselves,” said Babbalanja, “but the thing within us.”
“Ay?—good-morrow Azzageddi!—But come; no more dreams: Vee-Vee! wine.”
And straight through that livelong night, immortal Media plied the can.
CHAPTER LXIX.
After A Long Interval, By Night They Are Becalmed
Now suns rose, and set; moons grew, and waned; till, at last, the star that erewhile heralded the dawn, presaged the eve; to us, sad token!— while deep within the deepest heart of Mardi’s circle, we sailed from sea to sea; and isle to isle; and group to group;—vast empires explored, and inland valleys, to their utmost heads; and for every ray in heaven, beheld a king.
Needless to recount all that then befell; what tribes and caravans we saw; what vast horizons; boundless plains: and sierras, in their every intervale, a nation nestling.
Enough that still we roamed.