," cried Media "our to-morrows are as
long rows of fine punches, ranged on a board, and waiting the hand."

"But my good lords," said Babbalanja, now brightening with wine; "if,
of all suppers those given by bachelors be the best:--of all
bachelors, are not your priests and monks the jolliest? I mean, behind
the scenes? Their prayers all said, and their futurities securely
invested,--who so carefree and cozy as they? Yea, a supper for two in
a friar's cell in Maramma, is merrier far, than a dinner for five-and-
twenty, in the broad right wing of Donjalolo's great Palace of the Morn."

"Bravo, Babbalanja!" cried Media, "your iceberg is thawing. More of
that, more of that. Did I not say, we would melt him down at last, my
lord?"

"Ay," continued Babbalanja, "bachelors are a noble fraternity: I'm a
bachelor myself. One of ye, in that matter, my lord demi-gods. And if
unlike the patriarchs of the world, we father not our brigades and
battalions; and send not out into the battles of our country whole
regiments of our own individual raising;--yet do we oftentimes leave
behind us goodly houses and lands; rare old brandies and mountain
Malagas; and more especially, warm doublets and togas, and
spatterdashes, wherewithal to keep comfortable those who survive us;--
casing the legs and arms, which others beget. Then compare not
invidiously Benedicts with bachelors, since thus we make an equal
division of the duties, which both owe to posterity."

"Suppers forever!" cried Media. "See, my lord, what yours has done for
Babbalanja. He came to it a skeleton; but will go away, every bone
padded!"

"Ay, my lord demi-gods," said Babbalanja, drop by drop refilling his
goblet. "These suppers are all very fine, very pleasant, and merry.
But we pay for them roundly. Every thing, my good lords, has its
price, from a marble to a world. And easier of digestion, and better
for both body and soul, are a half-haunch of venison and a gallon of
mead, taken under the sun at meridian, than the soft bridal breast of
a partridge, with some gentle negus, at the noon of night!"

"No lie that!" said Mohi. "Beshrew me, in no well-appointed
mansion doth the pantry lie adjoining the sleeping chamber. A good
thought: I'll fill up, and ponder on it."

"Let not Azzageddi get uppermost again, Babbalanja," cried Media.
"Your goblet is only half-full."

"Permit it to remain so; my lord. For whoso takes much wine to bed
with him, has a bedfellow, more rest