Moby Dick Page #2

who destroys all sin

though he pluck it out...

from under the robes

of senators and judges!

And eternal delight shall be his...

who, coming to lay him down, can say:

"O Father...

"mortal or immortal...

"here I die.

"l have striven to be thine...

"more than to be this world's...

"or mine own.

"Yet this is nothing.

"l leave eternity to thee.

"For what is man...

"that he should live out

the lifetime of his God?"

And 50.

Three time I count 50.

Many pages, many.

A big book.

You know words?

I know picture. This whale.

You speak words.

"The heart of the whale is larger...

"than the pipe of the waterworks

at London Bridge.

"The water in that pipe

is not so thick or fast...

"as the blood pumping

from the heart of the whale."

True. Thank you.

Queequeg...

who are you? Where are you from?

My father king. I chief.

My uncle a high priest in islands...

west south far away.

Ship come by island.

I take canoe, I sail, I swim...

I climb rope, I hide.

Ship take me far. Many years.

See all world.

Odd. Many is the Christian wishes

he was a dark man on a cannibal isle.

-What next, Queequeg?

-Sail ship. You?

Tomorrow I hope to sign aboard any ship

in search of whales.

I sign, too. Your boat, my boat.

I eat same food. We sail on same waters.

We kill same whale.

We friends.

Same blood, same head, all same.

Well, which will it be, Queequeg?

The Tit-bit? Not a bad ship.

What do you say to the Devil-dam?

Pequod.

Well, now.

Look at the ivory she's wearing.

She's all tricked out

in the bones of her victims.

Those cleats made from whale's teeth.

And the tiller, Queequeg,

it's carved from a whale's jaw.

Ahoy there! Someone aboard?

Is this the captain of the Pequod?

What doest thee want of the captain?

We were thinking of shipping.

Thee art thinking of shipping.

I art.... I mean, I doest.

-Making sport of me, lad?

-No. I just fell into that manner of speech.

If I weren't a Quaker and a man of peace...

I'd fetch thee clout on the side of thy head,

my lad, just to make sure.

I see thee art no New Bedford man.

Doest know nothing at all about whaling,

I daresay.

I've had several voyages

in the merchant service.

Merchant service? Flukes, man.

-What takes thee whaling?

-Sir, I want to see what whaling is like.

Have you seen Ahab,

the captain of this ship?

If you want to know what whaling is...

then you'll know by clapping an eye

on Captain Ahab.

You'll see a man torn apart

from crown to heel...

and spliced together with

sperm whalebone in place of what's missing.

His looks tell more than any church-had

sermon about the mortality of man.

And a whale did that?

A whale as big as an island.

Art thee the man to pitch a harpoon

down a whale's throat and jump after it?

I am, sir...

if it should be positively indispensable

to do so.

Come along, then.

Bildad, stir yourself.

This young man says he wants to ship.

-Hast ever been a pirate, hast thee?

-Never.

-Didst not murder thy last captain at sea?

-lndeed not.

He'll do.

-What pay shall we give him?

-The 777th part.

-Would not be too much?

-For this strapping lad? Not half enough.

Captain Peleg, thee hast a generous heart.

But thee must consider the duty thee owest

to the other owners of this ship...

widows and orphans, many of them.

If we too abundantly reward

the labors of this young man...

we'll be taking bread from their mouths.

I'm putting him down

for the 300th part of the profit.

You hear, Bildad? The 300th part, I say.

"Lay not up for yourself

treasures upon earth...

"where moth and rust do corrupt."

-My last pay was--

-The 777th part seems fair enough to me.

-The 300th.

-Don't thank me, lad. I only do thee justice.

What holds thee? Sign.

-Sir, it's Captain Ahab.

-What about him?

Was not Ahab of old a very wicked king?

And when he was slain,

did the dogs not lick his blood?

Look, lad,

Captain Ahab did not name himself.

Sign the paper now, and wrong him not

because he happens to have a wicked name.

Now for that son of darkness

that is thy friend.

Queequeg, step forward.

What say you, Bildad?

I suspect thee art not a Christian.

Doest thee attend church on Sundays?

Doest thee know and obey

the Ten Commandments?

God, man.

Take the pen. Make thy mark.

Sign now for a 60th part of our profit.

Put there, quick.

Lantern kegs:
15.

Rubber pipes:
10.

Avast, there!

Are you going aboard, shipmate?

Have you signed to sail on that ship?

Have you signed to sail the Pequod, I say?

Was there anything down

about signing away your souls?

-What?

-Perhaps you haven't got any.

-Have you met old Ahab yet?

-What are you jabbering about?

Did they say how his mother birthed him,

gave him his evil name, and died?

How God's lightning struck down

and branded him?

How he spat in the holy goblet

in church of Valparaiso?

Did they tell you about his last voyage?

I know all about him being crippled

by a whale. Come on.

All about it? You're sure you do? Sure?

Did they say how the whale marked him

inside and out...

and a mischief was worked on his soul?

No, I don't think they did.

-Who'd know? Not many, I guess.

-You can't fool us.

It's very easy for a man to look like

he's got a great secret.

I have, lad.

At sea one day,

you'll smell land where there be no land.

On that day, Ahab will go to his grave,

but he'll rise again within the hour.

He will rise and beckon.

Then all, all save one, shall follow.

Morning, shipmates. Morning.

May the heavens bless you.

Hey, you.

-What's your name?

-Elijah.

My name is Elijah.

-Bible?

-No, thank you, Aunt Charity, I have mine.

Bible?

-Thank you, ma'am.

-God bless you.

Don't whale it too much on the Lord's day.

But don't lose a fair chance, either.

Spring, you sons of bachelors!

Jump, spring, there, green pants!

You, Scotchcap!

-Yes?

-Spring!

Good white cedar plank is 3% more this year

than the last.

Hoist the yards!

Our boots and clothes are all in pawn

Go down, you blood red roses, go down

And it's mighty drafty

round the Cape of Storms

Go down, you blood red roses, go down

Oh, you pinks and posies

Go down, you blood red roses, go down

Take care of the butter.

20 cents a pound, it is.

Bildad, stop palavering away.

Three years is a long while going.

God have you in his holy keeping.

For that is where them whalefish blow

Go down, you blood red roses

Avast! Heave it!

Heave it there!

Heave away, forward.

There 's some that's bound

for New York town

And others is bound for France

Heave away, my Johnny

Heave away

And some that's bound for the Bengal Bay

To teach them whales to dance

And away, my Johnny boy

We're all bound to go

Come all you hard-weathered sailors

Who round the Cape of Storms

Heave away, my Johnny

Heave away

Be sure your boots and oilskins on

Or you'll wish you'd never been born

And away, my Johnny boy

We 're all bound to go

Set the topsails!

Up helm.

And around the world!

The Pequod beat an easterly course

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