At sunrise, we stood upon the beach.
Babbalanja thus:—“My voyage is ended. Not because what we sought is found; but that I now possess all which may be had of what I sought in Mardi. Here, tarry to grow wiser still:—then I am Alma’s and the world’s. Taji! for Yillah thou wilt hunt in vain; she is a phantom that but mocks thee; and while for her thou madly huntest, the sin thou didst cries out, and its avengers still will follow. But here they may not come: nor those, who, tempting, track thy path. Wise counsel take. Within our hearts is all we seek: though in that search many need a prompter. Him I have found in blessed Alma. Then rove no more. Gain now, in flush of youth, that last wise thought, too often purchased, by a life of woe. Be wise: be wise.
“Media! thy station calls thee home. Yet from this isle, thou earnest that, wherewith to bless thy own. These flowers, that round us spring, may be transplanted: and Odo made to bloom with amaranths and myrtles, like this Serenia. Before thy people act the things, thou here hast heard. Let no man weep, that thou may’st laugh; no man toil too hard, that thou may’st idle be. Abdicate thy throne: but still retain the scepter. None need a king; but many need a ruler.
“Mohi! Yoomy! do we part? then bury in forgetfulness much that hitherto I’ve spoken. But let not one syllable of this old man’s words be lost.
“Mohi! Age leads thee by the hand. Live out thy life; and die, calm- browed.
“But Yoomy! many days are thine. And in one life’s span, great circles may be traversed, eternal good be done. Take all Mardi for thy home. Nations are but names; and continents but shifting sands.
“Once more: Taji! be sure thy Yillah never will be found; or found, will not avail thee. Yet search, if so thou wilt; more isles, thou say’st, are still unvisited; and when all is seen, return, and find thy Yillah here.
“Companions all! adieu.”
And from the beach, he wended through the woods.
Our shallops now refitted, we silently embarked; and as we sailed away, the old man blessed us.