Oh, God! to sail with such a heathen crew that have
small touch of human mothers in them! Whelped
somewhere by the sharkish sea. The white whale
is their demigorgon. Hark! the infernal orgies!
that revelry is forward! mark the unfaltering silence
aft! Methinks it pictures life. Foremost
through the sparkling sea shoots on the gay, embattled,
bantering bow, but only to drag dark Ahab after it,
where he broods within his sternward cabin, builded
over the dead water of the wake, and further on, hunted
by its wolfish gurglings. The long howl thrills
me through! Peace! ye revellers, and set the
watch! Oh, life! ’tis in an hour like
this, with soul beat down and held to knowledge,—
as wild, untutored things are forced to feed—Oh,
life! ’tis now that I do feel the latent horror
in thee! but ’tis not me! that horror’s
out of me, and with the soft feeling of the human
in me, yet will I try to fight ye, ye grim, phantom
futures! Stand by me, hold me, bind me, O ye
blessed influences!
CHAPTER 39
First Night Watch
(Stubb solus, and mending a brace.)
Ha! ha! ha! ha! hem! clear my throat!—I’ve
been thinking over it ever since, and that ha, ha’s
the final consequence. Why so? Because
a laugh’s the wisest, easiest answer to all
that’s queer; and come what will, one comfort’s
always left— that unfailing comfort is,
it’s all predestinated. I heard not all
his talk with Starbuck; but to my poor eye Starbuck
then looked something as I the other evening felt.
Be sure the old Mogul has fixed him, too. I twigged
it, knew it; had had the gift, might readily have
prophesied it—for when I clapped my eye
upon his skull I saw it. Well, Stubb, wise Stubb—
that’s my title—well, Stubb, what
of it, Stubb? Here’s a carcase. I
know not all that may be coming, but be it what it
will, I’ll go to it laughing. Such a waggish
leering as lurks in all your horribles! I feel
funny. Fa, la! lirra, skirra! What’s
my juicy little pear at home doing now? Crying
its eyes out?— Giving a party to the last
arrived harpooneers, I dare say, gay as a frigate’s
pennant, and so am I—fa, la! lirra, skirra!
Oh—
We’ll drink to-night
with hearts as light,
To love, as gay and fleeting
As bubbles that swim, on the beaker’s
brim,
And break on the lips while meeting.
A brave stave that—who calls? Mr.
Starbuck? Aye, aye, sir— (Aside)
he’s my superior, he has his too, if I’m
not mistaken.— Aye, aye, sir, just through
with this job—coming.
CHAPTER 40
Midnight, Forecastle
HARPOONEERS AND SAILORS
(Foresail rises and discovers the watch standing, lounging, leaning,
and lying in various attitudes, all singing in chorus.)
Farewell and adieu to you,
Spanish ladies!
Farewell and adieu to you, ladies of Spain!
Our captain’s commanded.—
