ABRAZZA (_with a sigh_)--Alas, the poor devil! But methinks 'twas wondrous arrogant in him to talk to all Mardi at that lofty rate.--Did he think himself a god?
BABBALANJA--He himself best knew what he thought; but, like all others, he was created by Oro to some special end; doubtless, partly answered in his Koztanza.
MEDIA--And now that Lombardo is long dead and gone--and his work, hooted during life, lives after him--what think the present company of it? Speak, my lord Abrazza! Babbalanja! Mohi! Yoomy!
ABRAZZA (_tapping his sandal with his scepter__)--I never read it.
BABBALANJA (_looking upward_)--It was written with a divine intent.
Mohi (_stroking his beard_)--I never hugged it in a corner, and ignored it before Mardi.
Yoomy (_musing_)--It has bettered my heart.
MEDIA (_rising_
