The Deck

The coffin laid upon two line-tubs, between the vice-bench and the open hatchway; the Carpenter caulking its seams; the string of twisted oakum slowly unwinding from a large roll of it placed in the bosom of his frock.—Ahab comes slowly from the cabin-gangway, and hears Pip following him.

The coffin rests on two rope tubs, between the vise bench and the open hatchway. The Carpenter is caulking its seams. A strand of twisted oakum slowly unwinds from a large roll tucked inside the front of his shirt. Ahab comes slowly from the cabin passage and hears Pip following him.

“Back, lad; I will be with ye again presently. He goes! Not this hand complies with my humor more genially than that boy.—Middle aisle of a church! What’s here?”

“Go back, lad. I’ll be with you again shortly. There he goes! Even my own hand doesn’t obey my wishes more readily than that boy. The middle aisle of a church! What’s this?”

“Life-buoy, sir. Mr. Starbuck’s orders. Oh, look, sir! Beware the hatchway!”

“Life buoy, sir. Mr. Starbuck’s orders. Oh, look, sir! Watch out for the hatch!”

“Thank ye, man. Thy coffin lies handy to the vault.”

“Thank you, man. Your coffin is conveniently close to the vault.”

“Sir? The hatchway? oh! So it does, sir, so it does.”

“Sir? The hatchway? Oh! Yes, it does, sir, it does.”

“Art not thou the leg-maker? Look, did not this stump come from thy shop?”

“Aren't you the leg-maker? Look, didn't this stump come from your shop?”

“I believe it did, sir; does the ferrule stand, sir?”

“I believe it did, sir. Is the ferrule holding, sir?”

“Well enough. But art thou not also the undertaker?”

“All right. But aren't you also the undertaker?”

“Aye, sir; I patched up this thing here as a coffin for Queequeg; but they’ve set me now to turning it into something else.”

“Yes, sir. I patched this thing together as a coffin for Queequeg. But now they’ve told me to turn it into something else.”

“Then tell me; art thou not an arrant, all-grasping, intermeddling, monopolising, heathenish old scamp, to be one day making legs, and the next day coffins to clap them in, and yet again life-buoys out of those same coffins? Thou art as unprincipled as the gods, and as much of a jack-of-all-trades.”

“Then tell me, aren’t you a complete, greedy, meddling, monopolizing, heathen old scamp? One day you make legs, the next you make coffins to put those legs in, and then you make life buoys out of those same coffins. You’re as unprincipled as the gods, and just as much a jack-of-all-trades.”

“But I do not mean anything, sir. I do as I do.”

“But I don’t mean anything, sir. I just do what I do.”

“The gods again. Hark ye, dost thou not ever sing working about a coffin? The Titans, they say, hummed snatches when chipping out the craters for volcanoes; and the grave-digger in the play sings, spade in hand. Dost thou never?”

“The gods again. Listen, don’t you ever sing while working on a coffin? They say the Titans hummed snatches of song while chiseling out craters for volcanoes. And the grave-digger in the play sings with a spade in his hand. Don’t you ever sing?”

“Sing, sir? Do I sing? Oh, I’m indifferent enough, sir, for that; but the reason why the grave-digger made music must have been because there was none in his spade, sir. But the caulking mallet is full of it. Hark to it.”

“Sing, sir? Do I sing? Oh, I’m a mediocre enough singer for that, sir. But the grave-digger must have made music because there was none in his spade, sir. The caulking mallet, though, is full of music. Listen to it.”

“Aye, and that’s because the lid there’s a sounding-board; and what in all things makes the sounding-board is this—there’s naught beneath. And yet, a coffin with a body in it rings pretty much the same, Carpenter. Hast thou ever helped carry a bier, and heard the coffin knock against the churchyard gate, going in?

“Yes, and that’s because the lid is a sounding board. In every case, what makes a sounding board is that there’s nothing beneath it. And yet, a coffin with a body in it rings much the same, Carpenter. Have you ever helped carry a bier and heard the coffin knock against the churchyard gate on the way in?

“Faith, sir, I’ve——”

“Honestly, sir, I’ve...”

“Faith? What’s that?”

“Faith? What’s that?”

“Why, faith, sir, it’s only a sort of exclamation-like—that’s all, sir.”

“Well, honestly, sir, it’s just a kind of exclamation. That’s all, sir.”

“Um, um; go on.”

“Um, um, go on.”

“I was about to say, sir, that——”

“I was going to say, sir, that...”

“Art thou a silk-worm? Dost thou spin thy own shroud out of thyself? Look at thy bosom! Despatch! and get these traps out of sight.”

“Are you a silkworm? Are you spinning your own shroud from your own body? Look at your chest! Hurry up and get these things out of sight.”

“He goes aft. That was sudden, now; but squalls come sudden in hot latitudes. I’ve heard that the Isle of Albemarle, one of the Gallipagos, is cut by the Equator right in the middle. Seems to me some sort of Equator cuts yon old man, too, right in his middle. He’s always under the Line—fiery hot, I tell ye! He’s looking this way—come, oakum; quick. Here we go again. This wooden mallet is the cork, and I’m the professor of musical glasses—tap, tap!”

“He’s going aft. That was sudden, but squalls come suddenly in hot latitudes. I’ve heard the Equator cuts right through the middle of the Isle of Albemarle, one of the Gallipagos. Seems to me some sort of Equator cuts right through the middle of that old man, too. He’s always under the Line, fiery hot, I tell you! He’s looking this way. Come on, oakum, quick. Here we go again. This wooden mallet is the cork, and I’m the professor of musical glasses. Tap, tap!”

(Ahab to himself.)

(Ahab, speaking to himself.)

“There’s a sight! There’s a sound! The greyheaded woodpecker tapping the hollow tree! Blind and dumb might well be envied now. See! that thing rests on two line-tubs, full of tow-lines. A most malicious wag, that fellow. Rat-tat! So man’s seconds tick! Oh! how immaterial are all materials! What things real are there, but imponderable thoughts? Here now’s the very dreaded symbol of grim death, by a mere hap, made the expressive sign of the help and hope of most endangered life. A life-buoy of a coffin! Does it go further? Can it be that in some spiritual sense the coffin is, after all, but an immortality-preserver! I’ll think of that. But no. So far gone am I in the dark side of earth, that its other side, the theoretic bright one, seems but uncertain twilight to me. Will ye never have done, Carpenter, with that accursed sound? I go below; let me not see that thing here when I return again. Now, then, Pip, we’ll talk this over; I do suck most wondrous philosophies from thee! Some unknown conduits from the unknown worlds must empty into thee!”

“There’s a sight! There’s a sound! The gray-haired woodpecker tapping the hollow tree! A blind and deaf person might well be envied now. Look! That thing rests on two tubs full of tow-lines. That fellow is a most malicious joker. Rat-tat! That’s how a man’s seconds tick away! Oh, how little material things matter! What real things are there besides thoughts, which have no weight? Here is the very symbol of grim death that we dread. Yet by mere chance, it has become a vivid sign of help and hope for those whose lives are most in danger. A coffin made into a life buoy! Does the meaning go further? Could the coffin, in some spiritual sense, be a preserver of immortality after all? I’ll think about that. But no. I’m so far gone on the dark side of the earth that its other side, supposedly bright, seems like uncertain twilight to me. Will you never stop that cursed sound, Carpenter? I’m going below. Don’t let me see that thing here when I come back. Now then, Pip, we’ll talk this over. I draw the most wonderful philosophies from you! Some unknown channels from unknown worlds must flow into you!”