“Aye, sir,” said Stubb⁠—“caught among the tangles of your line⁠—I thought I saw him dragging under.”

“ My line! my line? Gone?⁠—gone? What means that little word?⁠—What death-knell rings in it, that old Ahab shakes as if he were the belfry. The harpoon, too!⁠—toss over the litter there⁠—d’ye see it?⁠—the forged iron, men, the white whale’s⁠—no, no, no⁠—blistered fool! this hand did dart it!⁠—’tis in the fish!⁠—Aloft there! Keep him nailed⁠—Quick!⁠—all hands to the rigging of the boats⁠—collect the oars⁠—harpooneers! the irons, the irons!⁠—hoist the royals higher⁠—a pull on all the sheets!⁠—helm there! steady, steady for your life! I’ll ten times girdle the unmeasured globe; yea and dive straight through it, but I’ll slay him yet!”