First Night Watch

2 min

Fore-Top.

Foretop.

(Stubb solus, and mending a brace.)

(Stubb alone, 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—

Ha! ha! ha! ha! Ahem! Let me clear my throat! I’ve been thinking about it ever since, and that laugh is what came of it. Why? Because a laugh is the wisest, easiest answer to everything strange. And whatever happens, one comfort always remains. That unfailing comfort is that it’s all predestined. I didn’t hear everything he said to Starbuck. But to my poor eye, Starbuck looked something like I felt the other evening. You can be sure the old Mogul has fixed him too. I caught on, I knew it. If I’d had the gift of prophecy, I could easily have predicted it. For I saw it the moment I laid eyes on his skull. Well, Stubb, wise Stubb, that’s my title. Well, Stubb, what do you make of it, Stubb? Here’s a carcass. I don’t know everything that may be coming. But whatever it is, I’ll face it laughing. What a mischievous grin lurks in all your horrors! I feel funny. Fa, la! lirra, skirra! What’s my juicy little pear at home doing now? Crying its eyes out? I dare say it’s giving a party for the latest harpooneers to arrive, 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.

That’s a fine verse. Who’s calling? Mr. Starbuck? Yes, sir. (Aside) He’s my superior, and he has his too, if I’m not mistaken. Yes, sir, I’ve just finished this job. Coming.