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nydus/Moby DickPublic

Captain Ahab, having lost his leg to the white whale Moby Dick, travels the world on a quest for vengeance.

Page 716 of 735
Table of Contents

CXXXIV

“ 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!”

“Great God! but for one single instant show thyself,” cried Starbuck; “never, never wilt thou capture him, old man⁠—In Jesus’ name no more of this, that’s worse than devil’s madness. Two days chased; twice stove to splinters; thy very leg once more snatched from under thee; thy evil shadow gone⁠—all good angels mobbing thee with warnings:⁠—what more wouldst thou have?⁠—Shall we keep chasing this murderous fish till he swamps the last man? Shall we be dragged by him to the bottom of the sea? Shall we be towed by him to the infernal world? Oh, oh⁠—Impiety and blasphemy to hunt him more!”

“Starbuck, of late I’ve felt strangely moved to thee; ever since that hour we both saw⁠—thou know’st what, in one another’s eyes. But in this matter of the whale, be the front of thy face to me as the palm of this hand⁠—a lipless, unfeatured blank. Ahab is forever Ahab, man. This whole act’s immutably decreed. ’Twas rehearsed by thee and me a billion years before this ocean rolled. Fool! I am the Fates’ lieutenant; I act under orders. Look thou, underling! that thou obeyest mine.⁠—Stand round me, men. Ye see an old man cut down to the stump; leaning on a shivered lance; propped up on a lonely foot. ’Tis Ahab⁠—his body’s part; but Ahab’s soul’s a centipede, that moves upon a hundred legs. I feel strained, half stranded, as ropes that tow dismasted frigates in a gale; and I may look so. But ere I break, ye’ll hear me crack; and till ye hear that , know that Ahab’s hawser tows his purpose yet. Believe ye, men, in the

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