The Quarterdeck

(Enter Ahab: Then, all.)

(Ahab enters. Then everyone else enters.)

It was not a great while after the affair of the pipe, that one morning shortly after breakfast, Ahab, as was his wont, ascended the cabin-gangway to the deck. There most sea-captains usually walk at that hour, as country gentlemen, after the same meal, take a few turns in the garden.

Not long after the affair of the pipe, Ahab went up from the cabin to the deck one morning, shortly after breakfast. This was his usual habit. Most sea captains walk on deck at that hour, just as country gentlemen take a few turns in the garden after breakfast.

Soon his steady, ivory stride was heard, as to and fro he paced his old rounds, upon planks so familiar to his tread, that they were all over dented, like geological stones, with the peculiar mark of his walk. Did you fixedly gaze, too, upon that ribbed and dented brow; there also, you would see still stranger foot-prints—the foot-prints of his one unsleeping, ever-pacing thought.

Soon his steady ivory stride could be heard as he paced back and forth along his usual route. The planks were so familiar to his tread that they were dented all over, like geological stones, with the distinctive marks of his walk. If you stared at his furrowed and dented brow, you would see even stranger footprints there: the footprints of his one sleepless thought, forever pacing.

But on the occasion in question, those dents looked deeper, even as his nervous step that morning left a deeper mark. And, so full of his thought was Ahab, that at every uniform turn that he made, now at the main-mast and now at the binnacle, you could almost see that thought turn in him as he turned, and pace in him as he paced; so completely possessing him, indeed, that it all but seemed the inward mould of every outer movement.

But this time, those dents looked deeper, just as his nervous steps that morning left deeper marks. Ahab was so absorbed in his thought that you could almost see it turn as he turned. At each regular turn, whether at the mainmast or the binnacle, the thought seemed to pace inside him as he paced. It possessed him so completely that it almost seemed to shape his every outward movement from within.

“D’ye mark him, Flask?” whispered Stubb; “the chick that’s in him pecks the shell. ’Twill soon be out.”

“Do you see him, Flask?” whispered Stubb. “The chick inside him is pecking at the shell. It’ll be out soon.”

The hours wore on;—Ahab now shut up within his cabin; anon, pacing the deck, with the same intense bigotry of purpose in his aspect.

The hours passed. Ahab was shut in his cabin at one moment, pacing the deck the next. His face showed the same fierce, unyielding determination.

It drew near the close of day. Suddenly he came to a halt by the bulwarks, and inserting his bone leg into the auger-hole there, and with one hand grasping a shroud, he ordered Starbuck to send everybody aft.

The day was drawing to a close. Suddenly, he stopped by the ship’s side and put his bone leg into a hole there. Gripping a rope with one hand, he ordered Starbuck to send everyone to the rear of the ship.

“Sir!” said the mate, astonished at an order seldom or never given on ship-board except in some extraordinary case.

“Sir!” said the mate, astonished. Such an order was rarely, if ever, given aboard a ship except in extraordinary circumstances.

“Send everybody aft,” repeated Ahab. “Mast-heads, there! come down!”

“Send everyone to the back of the ship,” Ahab repeated. “You up on the masts! Come down!”

When the entire ship’s company were assembled, and with curious and not wholly unapprehensive faces, were eyeing him, for he looked not unlike the weather horizon when a storm is coming up, Ahab, after rapidly glancing over the bulwarks, and then darting his eyes among the crew, started from his standpoint; and as though not a soul were nigh him resumed his heavy turns upon the deck. With bent head and half-slouched hat he continued to pace, unmindful of the wondering whispering among the men; till Stubb cautiously whispered to Flask, that Ahab must have summoned them there for the purpose of witnessing a pedestrian feat. But this did not last long. Vehemently pausing, he cried:—

When the whole crew had gathered, they watched Ahab with curiosity and some unease. He looked like the horizon when a storm is coming. Ahab quickly glanced over the ship’s sides, then darted his eyes among the crew. He left his spot and resumed pacing heavily across the deck, as if no one were near him. With his head bent and his hat pulled halfway down, he kept pacing, paying no attention to the men’s wondering whispers. At last, Stubb cautiously whispered to Flask that Ahab must have called them there to watch him show off his walking skills. But Ahab did not pace for long. He stopped abruptly and cried:

“What do ye do when ye see a whale, men?”

“What do you do when you see a whale, men?”

“Sing out for him!” was the impulsive rejoinder from a score of clubbed voices.

“Call out for him!” about twenty voices replied together without hesitation.

“Good!” cried Ahab, with a wild approval in his tones; observing the hearty animation into which his unexpected question had so magnetically thrown them.

“Good!” cried Ahab, his voice wild with approval. He saw how powerfully his unexpected question had stirred them into enthusiastic excitement.

“And what do ye next, men?”

“And what do you do next, men?”

“Lower away, and after him!”

“Lower the boats and go after him!”

“And what tune is it ye pull to, men?”

“And what tune do you row to, men?”

“A dead whale or a stove boat!”

“A dead whale or a smashed boat!”

More and more strangely and fiercely glad and approving, grew the countenance of the old man at every shout; while the mariners began to gaze curiously at each other, as if marvelling how it was that they themselves became so excited at such seemingly purposeless questions.

With each shout, the old man's face grew more strangely and fiercely joyful and approving. Meanwhile, the sailors began to look curiously at one another. They seemed to wonder why they themselves were so excited by such seemingly pointless questions.

But, they were all eagerness again, as Ahab, now half-revolving in his pivot-hole, with one hand reaching high up a shroud, and tightly, almost convulsively grasping it, addressed them thus:—

But they were all eager again as Ahab turned halfway in his pivot-hole. Reaching high up a shroud, he gripped the rope tightly, almost convulsively, and spoke to them:

“All ye mast-headers have before now heard me give orders about a white whale. Look ye! d’ye see this Spanish ounce of gold?”—holding up a broad bright coin to the sun—“it is a sixteen dollar piece, men. D’ye see it? Mr. Starbuck, hand me yon top-maul.”

“All of you masthead lookouts have heard me give orders about a white whale before. Look! Do you see this Spanish gold ounce?” He held up a broad, bright coin to the sun. “It’s a sixteen-dollar piece, men. Do you see it? Mr. Starbuck, hand me that top-maul.”

While the mate was getting the hammer, Ahab, without speaking, was slowly rubbing the gold piece against the skirts of his jacket, as if to heighten its lustre, and without using any words was meanwhile lowly humming to himself, producing a sound so strangely muffled and inarticulate that it seemed the mechanical humming of the wheels of his vitality in him.

While the mate was getting the hammer, Ahab silently rubbed the gold piece against the lower part of his jacket, as if to make it shine more brightly. Meanwhile, he hummed softly to himself without words. The sound was so strangely muffled and indistinct that it seemed like the mechanical humming of the wheels of life inside him.

Receiving the top-maul from Starbuck, he advanced towards the main-mast with the hammer uplifted in one hand, exhibiting the gold with the other, and with a high raised voice exclaiming: “Whosoever of ye raises me a white-headed whale with a wrinkled brow and a crooked jaw; whosoever of ye raises me that white-headed whale, with three holes punctured in his starboard fluke—look ye, whosoever of ye raises me that same white whale, he shall have this gold ounce, my boys!”

He took the top-maul from Starbuck and walked toward the mainmast. He held the hammer high in one hand and showed the gold in the other. In a loud voice, he cried: “Whoever spots a white-headed whale with a wrinkled brow and a crooked jaw for me, listen! Whoever spots that white-headed whale with three holes in the right side of its tail, look here! Whoever spots that same white whale for me will have this gold ounce, my boys!”

“Huzza! huzza!” cried the seamen, as with swinging tarpaulins they hailed the act of nailing the gold to the mast.

“Hooray! Hooray!” cried the sailors, waving their hats as they cheered the nailing of the gold to the mast.

“It’s a white whale, I say,” resumed Ahab, as he threw down the topmaul: “a white whale. Skin your eyes for him, men; look sharp for white water; if ye see but a bubble, sing out.”

“It’s a white whale, I tell you,” Ahab continued, throwing down the topmaul. “A white whale. Keep your eyes open for him, men. Watch closely for white water. If you see even a bubble, shout.”

All this while Tashtego, Daggoo, and Queequeg had looked on with even more intense interest and surprise than the rest, and at the mention of the wrinkled brow and crooked jaw they had started as if each was separately touched by some specific recollection.

All this time, Tashtego, Daggoo, and Queequeg had watched with even more interest and surprise than the others. At the mention of the wrinkled brow and crooked jaw, they each started, as if reminded of something specific.

“Captain Ahab,” said Tashtego, “that white whale must be the same that some call Moby Dick.”

“Captain Ahab,” said Tashtego, “that white whale must be the one some people call Moby Dick.”

“Moby Dick?” shouted Ahab. “Do ye know the white whale then, Tash?”

“Moby Dick?” shouted Ahab. “Do you know the white whale, then, Tash?”

“Does he fan-tail a little curious, sir, before he goes down?” said the Gay-Header deliberately.

“Does he fan his tail a little strangely, sir, before he dives?” the Gay-Header asked deliberately.

“And has he a curious spout, too,” said Daggoo, “very bushy, even for a parmacetty, and mighty quick, Captain Ahab?”

“And does he have an unusual spout too,” said Daggoo, “very bushy, even for a parmacetty, and very quick, Captain Ahab?”

“And he have one, two, three—oh! good many iron in him hide, too, Captain,” cried Queequeg disjointedly, “all twiske-tee be-twisk, like him—him—” faltering hard for a word, and screwing his hand round and round as though uncorking a bottle—“like him—him—”

“And he has one, two, three, oh! A good many irons in his hide too, Captain,” Queequeg cried in broken speech. “All twisted up, like a, a...” He struggled to find the word. He turned his hand around and around as if uncorking a bottle. “Like a, a...”

“Corkscrew!” cried Ahab, “aye, Queequeg, the harpoons lie all twisted and wrenched in him; aye, Daggoo, his spout is a big one, like a whole shock of wheat, and white as a pile of our Nantucket wool after the great annual sheep-shearing; aye, Tashtego, and he fan-tails like a split jib in a squall. Death and devils! men, it is Moby Dick ye have seen—Moby Dick—Moby Dick!”

“Corkscrew!” cried Ahab. “Yes, Queequeg, the harpoons are all twisted and bent in him. Yes, Daggoo, his spout is huge, like a whole bundle of wheat. It’s as white as a pile of our Nantucket wool after the great annual sheep shearing. Yes, Tashtego, and he fans his tail like a torn jib in a squall. Death and devils! Men, it’s Moby Dick you’ve seen. Moby Dick! Moby Dick!”

“Captain Ahab,” said Starbuck, who, with Stubb and Flask, had thus far been eyeing his superior with increasing surprise, but at last seemed struck with a thought which somewhat explained all the wonder. “Captain Ahab, I have heard of Moby Dick—but it was not Moby Dick that took off thy leg?”

“Captain Ahab,” said Starbuck. He, Stubb, and Flask had been watching their captain with growing surprise. But now Starbuck seemed to have a thought that partly explained all their surprise. “Captain Ahab, I’ve heard of Moby Dick, but was Moby Dick the one who took off your leg?”

“Who told thee that?” cried Ahab; then pausing, “Aye, Starbuck; aye, my hearties all round; it was Moby Dick that dismasted me; Moby Dick that brought me to this dead stump I stand on now. Aye, aye,” he shouted with a terrific, loud, animal sob, like that of a heart-stricken moose; “Aye, aye! it was that accursed white whale that razeed me; made a poor pegging lubber of me for ever and a day!” Then tossing both arms, with measureless imprecations he shouted out: “Aye, aye! and I’ll chase him round Good Hope, and round the Horn, and round the Norway Maelstrom, and round perdition’s flames before I give him up. And this is what ye have shipped for, men! to chase that white whale on both sides of land, and over all sides of earth, till he spouts black blood and rolls fin out. What say ye, men, will ye splice hands on it, now? I think ye do look brave.”

“Who told you that?” cried Ahab. Then he paused. “Yes, Starbuck. Yes, all of you, my hearties. It was Moby Dick who took my leg. Moby Dick brought me to this dead stump I stand on now. Yes, yes,” he shouted with a terrible, loud, animal sob, like that of a heartbroken moose. “Yes, yes! It was that cursed white whale that cut me down. He made me a poor, clumsy man on a peg leg forever and a day!” Then he threw both arms into the air and shouted, cursing without end: “Yes, yes! I’ll chase him around Good Hope, around the Horn, and around the Norway Maelstrom. I’ll chase him around the flames of hell before I give him up. And this is what you signed on for, men! We’ll chase that white whale on both sides of the land and across every part of the earth. We’ll chase him until he spouts black blood and rolls over dead, with his fin in the air. What do you say, men? Will you join hands on it now? I think you look brave.”

“Aye, aye!” shouted the harpooneers and seamen, running closer to the excited old man: “A sharp eye for the white whale; a sharp lance for Moby Dick!”

“Yes, yes!” shouted the harpooners and sailors as they ran closer to the excited old man: “Keep a sharp eye out for the white whale. Keep a sharp lance ready for Moby Dick!”

“God bless ye,” he seemed to half sob and half shout. “God bless ye, men. Steward! go draw the great measure of grog. But what’s this long face about, Mr. Starbuck; wilt thou not chase the white whale? art not game for Moby Dick?”

“God bless you,” he seemed to half sob and half shout. “God bless you, men. Steward! Go draw the large measure of grog. But why the long face, Mr. Starbuck? Won't you chase the white whale? Aren't you willing to take on Moby Dick?”

“I am game for his crooked jaw, and for the jaws of Death too, Captain Ahab, if it fairly comes in the way of the business we follow; but I came here to hunt whales, not my commander’s vengeance. How many barrels will thy vengeance yield thee even if thou gettest it, Captain Ahab? it will not fetch thee much in our Nantucket market.”

“I’m willing to face his crooked jaw, and the jaws of Death too, Captain Ahab, if they come in the way of our work. But I came here to hunt whales, not to pursue my commander’s revenge. How many barrels of oil will your revenge yield, even if you get it, Captain Ahab? Your revenge won’t fetch much in our Nantucket market.”

“Nantucket market! Hoot! But come closer, Starbuck; thou requirest a little lower layer. If money’s to be the measurer, man, and the accountants have computed their great counting-house the globe, by girdling it with guineas, one to every three parts of an inch; then, let me tell thee, that my vengeance will fetch a great premium here!”

“Nantucket market! Hoot! But come closer, Starbuck. You need to look a little deeper. If money is the measure, man, and accountants have calculated the value of their vast counting house, the globe, by circling it with guineas, one for every three-quarters of an inch, then let me tell you, my vengeance will fetch a great premium here!”

“He smites his chest,” whispered Stubb, “what’s that for? methinks it rings most vast, but hollow.”

“He’s beating his chest,” whispered Stubb. “What’s that for? I think it sounds very deep, but hollow.”

“Vengeance on a dumb brute!” cried Starbuck, “that simply smote thee from blindest instinct! Madness! To be enraged with a dumb thing, Captain Ahab, seems blasphemous.”

“Revenge on a mindless animal!” cried Starbuck. “It struck you purely out of blind instinct! Madness! Captain Ahab, it seems blasphemous to be furious with an animal.”

“Hark ye yet again—the little lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event—in the living act, the undoubted deed—there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there’s naught beyond. But ’tis enough. He tasks me; he heaps me; I see in him outrageous strength, with an inscrutable malice sinewing it. That inscrutable thing is chiefly what I hate; and be the white whale agent, or be the white whale principal, I will wreak that hate upon him. Talk not to me of blasphemy, man; I’d strike the sun if it insulted me. For could the sun do that, then could I do the other; since there is ever a sort of fair play herein, jealousy presiding over all creations. But not my master, man, is even that fair play. Who’s over me? Truth hath no confines. Take off thine eye! more intolerable than fiends’ glarings is a doltish stare! So, so; thou reddenest and palest; my heat has melted thee to anger-glow. But look ye, Starbuck, what is said in heat, that thing unsays itself. There are men from whom warm words are small indignity. I meant not to incense thee. Let it go. Look! see yonder Turkish cheeks of spotted tawn—living, breathing pictures painted by the sun. The Pagan leopards—the unrecking and unworshipping things, that live; and seek, and give no reasons for the torrid life they feel! The crew, man, the crew! Are they not one and all with Ahab, in this matter of the whale? See Stubb! he laughs! See yonder Chilian! he snorts to think of it. Stand up amid the general hurricane, thy one tost sapling cannot, Starbuck! And what is it? Reckon it. ’Tis but to help strike a fin; no wondrous feat for Starbuck. What is it more? From this one poor hunt, then, the best lance out of all Nantucket, surely he will not hang back, when every foremast-hand has clutched a whetstone? Ah! constrainings seize thee; I see! the billow lifts thee! Speak, but speak!—Aye, aye! thy silence, then, that voices thee. (Aside) Something shot from my dilated nostrils, he has inhaled it in his lungs. Starbuck now is mine; cannot oppose me now, without rebellion.”

“Listen again. There is a deeper layer. All visible things, man, are only cardboard masks. But in every event, in every living act and unmistakable deed, something unknown yet rational shows its features from behind the mindless mask. If a man must strike, let him strike through the mask! How can a prisoner get outside except by breaking through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, pushed close against me. Sometimes I think there is nothing beyond it. But that is enough. He torments me. He overwhelms me. I see outrageous strength in him, powered by a malice I cannot understand. It is chiefly that unfathomable thing I hate. Whether the white whale is its agent or acts on his own, I will take out that hate on him. Do not talk to me of blasphemy, man. I would strike the sun if it insulted me. For if the sun could insult me, then I could strike it. There is always a kind of fair play in these things, with jealousy ruling over all creations. But even that fair play is not my master, man. Who is above me? Truth has no limits. Stop staring at me! A fool’s stare is harder to bear than the glares of demons! There, there. You turn red and then pale. My heat has stirred you to a glow of anger. But look, Starbuck, words spoken in anger cancel themselves out. From some men, heated words are a small insult. I did not mean to anger you. Let it go. Look! See those Turkish cheeks, spotted and tawny, living, breathing pictures painted by the sun. The Pagan leopards, living creatures that neither worry nor worship. They live and seek, and give no reasons for the burning life they feel! The crew, man, the crew! Are they not, every one of them, with Ahab in this matter of the whale? Look at Stubb! He laughs! Look at that Chilian! He snorts at the thought of it. Starbuck, your one tossed sapling cannot stand against the whole hurricane! And what does it amount to? Think about it. It is only a matter of helping strike a fin. That is no extraordinary feat for Starbuck. What more is there to it? Surely the best lance in all Nantucket will not hold back from this one poor hunt, when every foremast-hand has grabbed a whetstone? Ah! Forces are taking hold of you. I see it! The wave lifts you! Speak, just speak! Yes, yes! Your silence, then, that speaks for you. (Aside) Something shot from my flared nostrils. He has breathed it into his lungs. Starbuck is mine now. He cannot oppose me now without rebellion.”

“God keep me!—keep us all!” murmured Starbuck, lowly.

“God protect me! Protect us all!” Starbuck murmured softly.

But in his joy at the enchanted, tacit acquiescence of the mate, Ahab did not hear his foreboding invocation; nor yet the low laugh from the hold; nor yet the presaging vibrations of the winds in the cordage; nor yet the hollow flap of the sails against the masts, as for a moment their hearts sank in. For again Starbuck’s downcast eyes lighted up with the stubbornness of life; the subterranean laugh died away; the winds blew on; the sails filled out; the ship heaved and rolled as before. Ah, ye admonitions and warnings! why stay ye not when ye come? But rather are ye predictions than warnings, ye shadows! Yet not so much predictions from without, as verifications of the foregoing things within. For with little external to constrain us, the innermost necessities in our being, these still drive us on.

But Ahab was delighted by the mate’s spellbound, silent agreement. He did not hear the mate’s ominous invocation, or the low laugh from the hold. Nor did he hear the warning tremors of the wind in the ropes, or the hollow flapping of the sails against the masts, as their hearts seemed to sink for a moment. For Starbuck’s downcast eyes lit up again with the stubbornness of life. The laugh from below died away. The winds blew on. The sails filled out. The ship heaved and rolled as before. Ah, warnings and cautions! Why do you not stay when you come? But you are predictions rather than warnings, you shadows! Yet you are not so much predictions from outside as confirmations of what has already happened within us. For even when little outside us compels us, the deepest necessities of our being still drive us on.

“The measure! the measure!” cried Ahab.

“The measure! The measure!” Ahab shouted.

Receiving the brimming pewter, and turning to the harpooneers, he ordered them to produce their weapons. Then ranging them before him near the capstan, with their harpoons in their hands, while his three mates stood at his side with their lances, and the rest of the ship’s company formed a circle round the group; he stood for an instant searchingly eyeing every man of his crew. But those wild eyes met his, as the bloodshot eyes of the prairie wolves meet the eye of their leader, ere he rushes on at their head in the trail of the bison; but, alas! only to fall into the hidden snare of the Indian.

He took the brimming pewter cup, turned to the harpooneers, and ordered them to bring out their weapons. Then he lined them up before him near the capstan, holding their harpoons. His three mates stood at his side with their lances, and the rest of the crew formed a circle around them. For a moment, he stood studying each man’s face. But their wild eyes met his like the bloodshot eyes of prairie wolves meeting their leader’s gaze. The leader is about to charge ahead of them on the trail of the bison, only, alas, to fall into an Indian’s hidden trap.

“Drink and pass!” he cried, handing the heavy charged flagon to the nearest seaman. “The crew alone now drink. Round with it, round! Short draughts—long swallows, men; ’tis hot as Satan’s hoof. So, so; it goes round excellently. It spiralizes in ye; forks out at the serpent-snapping eye. Well done; almost drained. That way it went, this way it comes. Hand it me—here’s a hollow! Men, ye seem the years; so brimming life is gulped and gone. Steward, refill!

“Drink and pass it on!” he cried, handing the heavy, full flagon to the nearest sailor. “Only the crew drinks now. Pass it around, around! Small drinks, long swallows, men. It’s hot as Satan’s hoof. There, there, it’s going around splendidly. It spirals inside you and flashes out through your eyes like a striking serpent. Well done, almost empty. It went that way, and now it comes back this way. Hand it to me. It’s empty! Men, you’re like the years. A life so full is swallowed up and gone. Steward, fill it again!”

“Attend now, my braves. I have mustered ye all round this capstan; and ye mates, flank me with your lances; and ye harpooneers, stand there with your irons; and ye, stout mariners, ring me in, that I may in some sort revive a noble custom of my fisherman fathers before me. O men, you will yet see that—Ha! boy, come back? bad pennies come not sooner. Hand it me. Why, now, this pewter had run brimming again, wer’t not thou St. Vitus’ imp—away, thou ague!

“Listen now, my braves. I have gathered you all around this capstan. Mates, stand beside me with your lances. Harpooneers, stand there with your harpoons. And you, strong sailors, form a ring around me. In this way, I can bring back something of a noble custom of my fisherman fathers before me. Oh, men, you will yet see that... Ha! Boy, are you back? Even a bad penny would not turn up sooner. Hand it to me. Why, this pewter mug would have been brimming over again if you weren’t such an imp of St. Vitus. Away with you, you shivering fit!”

“Advance, ye mates! Cross your lances full before me. Well done! Let me touch the axis.” So saying, with extended arm, he grasped the three level, radiating lances at their crossed centre; while so doing, suddenly and nervously twitched them; meanwhile, glancing intently from Starbuck to Stubb; from Stubb to Flask. It seemed as though, by some nameless, interior volition, he would fain have shocked into them the same fiery emotion accumulated within the Leyden jar of his own magnetic life. The three mates quailed before his strong, sustained, and mystic aspect. Stubb and Flask looked sideways from him; the honest eye of Starbuck fell downright.

“Step forward, mates! Cross your lances right in front of me. Well done! Let me touch the center.” As he spoke, he reached out and grasped the three level lances where they crossed. He suddenly gave them a nervous twitch, while looking intently from Starbuck to Stubb, then from Stubb to Flask. It seemed as if, by some unnamed inner act of will, he wanted to shock them with his own fiery emotion. That emotion had built up within the Leyden jar of his own magnetic life. The three mates shrank before his powerful, steady, and mysterious gaze. Stubb and Flask looked away, while Starbuck lowered his honest eyes.

“In vain!” cried Ahab; “but, maybe, ’tis well. For did ye three but once take the full-forced shock, then mine own electric thing, that had perhaps expired from out me. Perchance, too, it would have dropped ye dead. Perchance ye need it not. Down lances! And now, ye mates, I do appoint ye three cupbearers to my three pagan kinsmen there—yon three most honorable gentlemen and noblemen, my valiant harpooneers. Disdain the task? What, when the great Pope washes the feet of beggars, using his tiara for ewer? Oh, my sweet cardinals! your own condescension, that shall bend ye to it. I do not order ye; ye will it. Cut your seizings and draw the poles, ye harpooneers!”

“In vain!” cried Ahab. “But maybe that is for the best. For if you three had taken the full force of the shock even once, my own electric thing, that might have left me. Perhaps it would have struck you dead, too. Perhaps you do not need it. Lower your lances! And now, mates, I appoint you three cupbearers to my three pagan kinsmen there. They are those three most honorable gentlemen and noblemen, my brave harpooneers. Do you look down on the task? Why, the great Pope washes the feet of beggars, using his tiara as a pitcher! Oh, my sweet cardinals! Your own willingness to humble yourselves, that shall make you do it. I do not order you. You choose to do it. Cut your lashings and pull out the poles, harpooneers!”

Silently obeying the order, the three harpooneers now stood with the detached iron part of their harpoons, some three feet long, held, barbs up, before him.

The three harpooners silently obeyed the order. They stood before him, each holding the detached iron part of his harpoon with the barbs pointing up. Each iron was about three feet long.

“Stab me not with that keen steel! Cant them; cant them over! know ye not the goblet end? Turn up the socket! So, so; now, ye cup-bearers, advance. The irons! take them; hold them while I fill!” Forthwith, slowly going from one officer to the other, he brimmed the harpoon sockets with the fiery waters from the pewter.

“Don't stab me with that sharp steel! Tilt them over! Don't you know the socket is like a goblet? Turn it upward! That's it. Now, cupbearers, come forward. Take the harpoons and hold them while I fill them!” Then he slowly went from one officer to the next, filling the harpoon sockets to the brim with the fiery liquid from the pewter vessel.

“Now, three to three, ye stand. Commend the murderous chalices! Bestow them, ye who are now made parties to this indissoluble league. Ha! Starbuck! but the deed is done! Yon ratifying sun now waits to sit upon it. Drink, ye harpooneers! drink and swear, ye men that man the deathful whaleboat’s bow—Death to Moby Dick! God hunt us all, if we do not hunt Moby Dick to his death!” The long, barbed steel goblets were lifted; and to cries and maledictions against the white whale, the spirits were simultaneously quaffed down with a hiss. Starbuck paled, and turned, and shivered. Once more, and finally, the replenished pewter went the rounds among the frantic crew; when, waving his free hand to them, they all dispersed; and Ahab retired within his cabin.

“Now you stand three against three. Present the murderous cups! Pass them to those who have now joined this unbreakable pact. Ha! Starbuck! But the deed is done! That sun is now waiting to set on it and seal it. Drink, harpooneers! Drink and swear, you men who stand in the bow of the deadly whaleboat. Death to Moby Dick! May God hunt us all if we do not hunt Moby Dick to his death!” The long, barbed steel cups were raised. With cries and curses against the white whale, the men drank the liquor together with a hiss. Starbuck turned pale, turned away, and shivered. One last time, the refilled pewter cup went around among the frenzied crew. Then Ahab waved his free hand to them, and they all dispersed. Ahab withdrew into his cabin.