“A very fine invocation,” said Media, “now Babbalanja, be seated; and tell us whether Dominora and the kings of Porpheero do not own some small portion of this great continent, which just now you poetically pronounced as the spoil of any vagabonds who may choose to settle therein? Is not Kanneeda, Dominora’s?” “And was not Vivenza once Dominora’s also? And what Vivenza now is, Kanneeda soon must be. I speak not, my lord, as wishful of what I say, but simply as foreknowing it. The thing must come. Vain for Dominora to claim allegiance from all the progeny she spawns. As well might the old patriarch of the flood reappear, and claim the right of rule over all mankind, as descended from the loins of his three roving sons. “’Tis the old law:—the East peoples the West, the West the East; flux and reflux. And time may come, after the rise and fall of nations yet unborn, that, risen from its future ashes, Porpheero shall be the promised land, and from her surplus hordes Kolumbo people it.” Still coasting on, next day, we came to Vivenza; and as Media desired to land first at a point midway between its extremities, in order to behold the convocation of chiefs supposed to be assembled at this season, we held on our way, till we gained a lofty ridge, jutting out into the lagoon, a bastion to the neighboring land. It terminated in a lofty natural arch of solid trap. Billows beat against its base. But above, waved an inviting copse, wherein was revealed an open temple of canes, containing one only image, that of a helmeted female, the tutelar deity of Vivenza. The canoes drew near. “Lo! what inscription is that?” cried Media, “there, chiseled over the arch?” Studying those immense hieroglyphics awhile, antiquarian Mohi still eyeing them, said slowly:—“In-this-re-publi-can-land-all-men-are- born-free-and-equal.” “False!” said Media. “And how long stay they so?” said Babbalanja. “But look lower, old man,” cried Media, “methinks there’s a small hieroglyphic or two hidden away in yonder angle.—Interpret them, old man.” After much screwing of his eyes, for those characters were very minute, Champollion Mohi thus spoke—” Except-the-tribe-of-Hamo.” “That nullifies the other,” cried Media. “Ah, ye republicans!” “It seems to have been added for a postscript,” rejoined Braid-Beard, screwing his eyes again. “Perhaps so,” said Babbalanja, “but some wag must have done it.” Shooting through the arch, we rapidly gained the beach. CHAPTER LIV. They Visit The Great Central Temple Of Vivenza The throng that greeted us upon landing were exceedingly boisterous.