Dusk

By the Mainmast; Starbuck leaning against it.

By the mainmast, Starbuck leans against it.

My soul is more than matched; she’s overmanned; and by a madman! Insufferable sting, that sanity should ground arms on such a field! But he drilled deep down, and blasted all my reason out of me! I think I see his impious end; but feel that I must help him to it. Will I, nill I, the ineffable thing has tied me to him; tows me with a cable I have no knife to cut. Horrible old man! Who’s over him, he cries;—aye, he would be a democrat to all above; look, how he lords it over all below! Oh! I plainly see my miserable office,—to obey, rebelling; and worse yet, to hate with touch of pity! For in his eyes I read some lurid woe would shrivel me up, had I it. Yet is there hope. Time and tide flow wide. The hated whale has the round watery world to swim in, as the small gold-fish has its glassy globe. His heaven-insulting purpose, God may wedge aside. I would up heart, were it not like lead. But my whole clock’s run down; my heart the all-controlling weight, I have no key to lift again.

My soul has more than met its match. It has been overpowered, and by a madman! What an unbearable humiliation, for sanity to lay down its arms on such a battlefield! But he drilled deep inside me and blasted away all my reason! I think I can see his ungodly end, but I feel I must help him reach it. Whether I want to or not, the thing beyond words has tied me to him. It tows me with a cable I have no knife to cut. Horrible old man! He asks who is above him. Yes, he would have all those above him treat him as their equal. But look how he lords it over everyone below him! Oh, I can see my miserable duty plainly: to obey while rebelling, and worse still, to hate him with a touch of pity! For in his eyes I see a terrible misery that would shrivel me up if I felt it myself. Yet there is hope. Time and tide flow far and wide. The hated whale has the whole watery world to swim in, just as a small goldfish has its glass bowl. God may turn aside his purpose, which insults heaven. I would raise my spirits if my heart were not like lead. But my whole clock has run down. My heart is the weight that drives it all, and I have no key to wind it up again.

[A burst of revelry from the forecastle.]

[A burst of celebration from the sailors' quarters.]

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!

Oh, God! To sail with such a heathen crew, with so little of their human mothers in them! They were whelped somewhere by the sharklike sea. The white whale is their demigorgon. Listen! Those hellish orgies, that revelry, are at the front of the ship! Notice the unbroken silence at the back! It seems to me a picture of life. The cheerful, battle-ready, bantering bow cuts through the sparkling sea. But it only drags dark Ahab behind it. He broods in his cabin at the stern, built over the dead water of the wake. Farther behind, the wake pursues him with its wolfish gurgling. The long howl pierces me! Quiet, you revelers, and set the watch! Oh, life! At an hour like this, my soul is beaten down and forced to face knowledge, as wild, untamed creatures are forced to feed. Oh, life! Now I feel the horror hidden within you! But that horror is not me! It is outside me! And with the tender human feeling still in me, I will try to fight you, you grim, phantom futures! Stand by me, hold me, bind me, O blessed influences!