[Mardi: and A Voyage Thither, Vol. I (of 2) by Herman Melville]@TWC D-Link book
Mardi: and A Voyage Thither, Vol. I (of 2)

CHAPTER XCIII
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By some mystical process they wrought minute balls of light: touchy, mercurial globules, very hard to handle; and with these, at pitch and toss, they played in the groves.

Or mischievously inclined, they toiled all night long at braiding the moon-beams together, and entangling the plaited end to a bough; so that at night, the poor planet had much ado to set." Here Yoomy once more was mute.
"Pause you to invent as you go on ?" said old Mohi, elevating his chin, till his beard was horizontal.
Yoomy resumed.
"Little or nothing more, my masters, is extant of the legend; only it must be mentioned, that these little people were very tasteful in their personal adornings; the manikins wearing girdles of fragrant leaves, and necklaces of aromatic seeds; and the little damsels, not content with their vines, and their verdure, sporting pearls in their ears; bracelets of wee little porpoise teeth; and oftentimes dancing with their mates in the moonlit glades, coquettishly fanned themselves with the transparent wings of the flying fish." "Now, I appeal to you, royal Media; to you, noble Taji; to you, Babbalanja;" said the chronicler, with an impressive gesture, "whether this seems a credible history: Yoomy has invented." "But perhaps he has entertained, old Mohi," said Babbalanja.
"He has not spoken the truth," persisted the chronicler.
"Mohi," said Babbalanja, "truth is in things, and not in words: truth is voiceless; so at least saith old Bardianna.

And I, Babbalanja, assert, that what are vulgarly called fictions are as much realities as the gross mattock of Dididi, the digger of trenches; for things visible are but conceits of the eye: things imaginative, conceits of the fancy.

If duped by one, we are equally duped by the other." "Clear as this water," said Yoomy.
"Opaque as this paddle," said Mohi, "But, come now, thou oracle, if all things are deceptive, tell us what is truth ?" "The old interrogatory; did they not ask it when the world began?
But ask it no more.

As old Bardianna hath it, that question is more final than any answer.".


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