Chapter 63

Odo And Its Lord

Time now to enter upon some further description of the island and its
lord.

And first for Media: a gallant gentleman and king. From a goodly
stock he came. In his endless pedigree, reckoning deities by
decimals, innumerable kings, and scores of great heroes, chiefs, and
priests. Nor in person, did he belie his origin. No far-descended
dwarf was he, the least of a receding race. He stood like a palm
tree; about whose acanthus capital droops not more gracefully the
silken fringes, than Media's locks upon his noble brow. Strong was
his arm to wield the club, or hurl the javelin; and potent, I ween,
round a maiden's waist.

Thus much here for Media. Now comes his isle.

Our pleasant ramble found it a little round world by itself; full of
beauties as a garden; chequered by charming groves; watered by roving
brooks; and fringed all round by a border of palm trees, whose roots
drew nourishment from the water. But though abounding in other
quarters of the Archipelago, not a solitary bread-fruit grew in Odo.
A noteworthy circumstance, observable in these regions, where islands
close adjoining, so differ in their soil, that certain fruits growing
genially in one, are foreign to another. But Odo was famed for its
guavas, whose flavor was likened to the flavor of new-blown lips; and
for its grapes, whose juices prompted many a laugh and many a groan.

Beside the city where Media dwelt, there were few other
clusters of habitations in Odo. The higher classes living, here and
there, in separate households; but not as eremites. Some buried
themselves in the cool, quivering bosoms of the groves. Others,
fancying a marine vicinity, dwelt hard by the beach in little cages
of bamboo; whence of mornings they sallied out with jocund cries, and
went plunging into the refreshing bath, whose frothy margin was the
threshold of their dwellings. Others still, like birds, built their
nests among the sylvan nooks of the elevated interior; whence all
below, and hazy green, lay steeped in languor the island's throbbing
heart.

Thus dwelt the chiefs and merry men of mark. The common sort,
including serfs, and Helots, war-captives held in bondage, lived in
secret places, hard to find. Whence it came, that, to a stranger, the
whole isle looked care-free and beautiful. Deep among the ravines and
the rocks, these beings lived in noisome caves, lairs for beasts, not
human homes; or built them coops of rotten boughs--living trees were
banned them--whose mouldy hearts hatched vermin. Fearing infection of
some plague, born of this filth, the chiefs of Odo seldom passed that
way and looking round within their green retreats, and pouring out
their wine, and plucking from orchards of the best,