“My lord, I had not ended. Abrazza, Yoomy, is a fine and florid king: high-fed, and affluent of heart; of speech, mellifluent. And for a royalty extremely amiable. He is a sceptered gentleman, who does much good. Kind king! in person he gives orders for relieving those, who daily dive for pearls, to grace his royal robe; and gasping hard, with blood-shot eyes, come up from shark-infested depths, and fainting, lay their treasure at his feet. Sweet lord Abrazza! how he pities those, who in his furthest woodlands day-long toil to do his bidding. Yet king-philosopher, he never weeps; but pities with a placid smile; and that but seldom.”
“There seems much iron in your blood,” said Media. “But say your say.”
“Say I not truth, my lord? Abrazza, I admire. Save his royal pity all else is jocund round him. He loves to live for life’s own sake. He vows he’ll have no cares; and often says, in pleasant reveries,— ‘Sure, my lord Abrazza, if any one should be care-free, ’tis thou; who strike down none, but pity all the fallen!’ Yet none he lifteth up.”
At length we gained the sunny side, and shoreward tended. Vee-Vee’s horn was sonorous; and issuing from his golden groves, my lord Abrazza, like a host that greets you on the threshold, met us, as we keeled the beach.
“Welcome! fellow demi-god, and king! Media, my pleasant guest!”
His servitors salamed; his chieftains bowed; his yeoman-guard, in meadow-green, presented palm-stalks,—royal tokens; and hand in hand, the nodding, jovial, regal friends, went up a lane of salutations; dragging behind, a train of envyings.
Much we marked Abrazza’s jeweled crown; that shot no honest blaze of ruddy rubies; nor looked stern-white like Media’s pearls; but cast a green and yellow glare; rays from emeralds, crossing rays from many a topaz. In those beams, so sinister, all present looked cadaverous: Abrazza’s cheek alone beamed bright, but hectic.
Upon its fragrant mats a spacious hall received the kings; and gathering courtiers blandly bowed; and gushing with soft flatteries, breathed idol-incense round them.
The hall was terraced thrice; its elevated end was curtained; and thence, at every chime of words, there burst a girl, gay scarfed, with naked bosom, and poured forth wild and hollow laughter, as she raced down all the terraces, and passed their merry kingships.
Wide round the hall, in avenues, waved almond-woods; their whiteness frosted into bloom. But every vine-clad trunk was hollow-hearted; hollow sounds came from the grottos: hollow broke the billows on the shore: and hollow pauses filled the air, following the hollow laughter.