ERE now it has been related how Ahab was wont to pace his quarter-deck, taking regular turns at either limit, the binnacle and mainmast; but in the multiplicity of other things requiring narration it has not been added how that sometimes in these walks, when most plunged in his mood, he was wont to pause in turn at each spot, and stand there strangely eyeing the particular object before him. When he halted before the binnacle, with his glance fastened on the pointed needle in the compass, that glance shot like a javelin with the pointed intensity of his purpose; and when resuming his walk he again paused before the mainmast, then, as the same riveted glance fastened upon the riveted gold coin there, he still wore the same aspect of nailed firmness, only dashed with a certain wild longing, if not hopefulness.
But one morning, turning to pass the doubloon, he seemed to be newly attracted by the strange figures and inscriptions stamped on it, as though now for the first time beginning to interpret for himself in some monomaniac way whatever significance might lurk in them. And some certain significance lurks in all things, else all things are little worth, and the round world itself but an empty cipher, except to sell by the cartload, as they do hills about Boston, to fill up some morass in the Milky Way.
Now this doubloon was of purest, virgin gold, raked somewhere out of the heart of gorgeous hills, whence, east and west, over golden sands, the head-waters of many a Pactolus flows. And though now nailed amidst all the rustiness of iron bolts and the verdigris of copper spikes, yet, untouchable and immaculate to any foulness, it still preserved its Quito glow. Nor, though placed amongst a ruthless crew and every hour passed by ruthless hands, and through the live-long nights shrouded with thick darkness which might cover any pilfering approach, nevertheless every sunrise found the doubloon where the sunset left it last. For it was set apart and sanctified to one awe-striking end; and however wanton in their sailor ways, one and all, the mariners revered it as the White Whales talisman. Sometimes they talked it over in the weary watch by night, wondering whose it was to be at last, and whether he would ever live to spend it.
Now those noble golden coins of South America are as medals of the sun and tropic token-pieces. Here palms, alpacas, and volcanoes; suns disks and stars; ecliptics, horns-of-plenty, and rich banners waving, are in luxuriant profusion stamped; so that the precious gold seems almost to derive an added preciousness and enhancing glories, by passing through those fancy mints, so Spanishly poetic.
It so chanced that the doubloon of the Pequod was a most wealthy example of these things. On its round border it bore the letters, REPUBLICA DEL ECUADOR: QUITO. So this bright coin came from a country planted in the middle of the world, and beneath the great equator, and named after it; and it had been cast midway up the Andes, in the unwaning clime that knows no autumn. Zoned by those letters you saw the likeness of three Andes summits; from one a flame; a tower on another; on the third a crowing cock; while arching over all was a segment of the partitioned zodiac, the signs all marked with their usual cabalistics, and the keystone sun entering the equinoctial point at Libra.
There s something ever egotistical in mountain-tops and towers, and all other grand and lofty things; look here,three peaks as proud as Lucifer. The firm tower, that is Ahab; the volcano, that is Ahab; the courageous, the undaunted, and victorious fowl, that, too, is Ahab; all are Ahab; and this round gold is but the image of the rounder globe, which, like a magicians glass, to each and every man in turn but mirrors back his own mysterious self. Great pains, small gains for those who ask the world to solve them; it cannot solve itself. Methinks now this coined sun wears a ruddy face; but see! aye, he enters the sign of storms, the equinox! and but six months before he wheeled out of a former equinox at Aries! From storm to storm! So be it, then. Born in throes, tis fit that man should live in pains and die in pangs! So be it, then! Here s stout stuff for woe to work on. So be it, then.
No fairy fingers can have pressed the gold, but devils claws must have left their mouldings there since yesterday, murmured Starbuck to himself, leaning against the bulwarks. The old man seems to read Belshazzars awful writing. I have never marked the coin inspectingly. He goes below; let me read. A dark valley between three mighty, heaven-abiding peaks, that almost seem the Trinity, in some faint earthly symbol. So in this vale of Death, God girds us round; and over all our gloom, the sun of Righteousness still shines a beacon and a hope. If we bend down our eyes, the dark vale shows her mouldy soil; but if we lift them, the bright sun meets our glance half-way, to cheer. Yet, oh, the great sun is no fixture; and if, at midnight, we would fain snatch some sweet solace from him, we gaze for him in vain! This coin speaks wisely, mildly, truly, but still sadly to me. I will quit it, lest Truth shake me falsely.
There now s the old Mogul, soliloquised Stubb by the try-works, he s been twigging it; and there goes Starbuck from the same, and both with faces which I should say might be somewhere within nine fathoms long. And all from looking at a piece of gold, which did I have it now on Negro Hill or in Corlaers Hook, I d not look at it very long ere spending it. Humph! in my poor, insignificant opinion, I regard this as queer. I have seen doubloons before now in my voyagings; your doubloons of old Spain, your doubloons of Peru, your doubloons of Chili, your doubloons of Bolivia, your doubloons of Popayan; with plenty of gold moidores and pistoles, and joes, and half joes, and quarter joes. What then should there be in this doubloon of the Equator that is so killing wonderful? By Golconda! let me read it once. Halloa! here s signs and wonders truly! That, now, is what old Bowditch in his Epitome calls the zodiac, and what my almanack below calls ditto. I ll get the almanack; and as I have heard devils can be raised with Dabolls arithmetic, I ll try my hand at raising a meaning out of these queer curvicues here with the Massachusetts calendar. Here s the book. Let s see now. Signs and wonders; and the sun, he s always among em. Hem, hem, hem; here they arehere they goall alive:Aries, or the Ram; Taurus, or the Bull, and Jimimi! here s Gemini himself, or the Twins. Well; the sun he wheels among em. Ay, here on the coin he s just crossing the threshold between two of twelve sitting-rooms all in a ring. Book! you lie there; the fact is, you books must know your places. You ll do to give us the bare words and facts, but we come in to supply the thoughts. That s my small experience, so far as the Massachusetts calendar, and Bowditchs navigator, and Dabolls arithmetic go. Signs and wonders, eh? Pity if there is nothing wonderful in signs, and significant in wonders! There s a clue somewhere; wait a bit; histhark! By Jove, I have it! Look you, Doubloon, your zodiac here is the life of man in one round chapter; and now I ll read it off, straight out of the book. Come, Almanack! To begin: there s Aries, or the Ramlecherous dog, he begets us; then, Taurus, or the Bullhe bumps us the first thing; then Gemini, or the Twinsthat is, Virtue and Vice; we try to reach Virtue, when lo! comes Cancer the Crab, and drags us back; and here, going from Virtue, Leo, a roaring Lion, lies in the pathhe gives a few fierce bites and surly dabs with his paw; we escape, and hail Virgo, the Virgin! that s our first love; we marry and think to be happy for aye, when pop comes Libra, or the Scaleshappiness weighed and found wanting; and while we are very sad about that, Lord! how we suddenly jump, as Scorpio, or the Scorpion, stings us in the rear; we are curing the wound, when whang come the arrows all round; Sagittarius, or the Archer, is amusing himself. As we pluck out the shafts, stand aside! here s the battering-ram, Capricornus, or the Goat; full tilt, he comes rushing, and headlong we are tossed; when Aquarius, or the Water-bearer, pours out his whole deluge and drowns us; and to wind up with Pisces, or the Fishes, we sleep. There s a sermon now, writ in high heaven, and the sun goes through it every year, and yet comes out of it all alive and hearty. Jollily he, aloft there, wheels through toil and trouble; and so, alow here, does jolly Stubb. Oh, jolly s the word for aye! Adieu, Doubloon! But stop; here comes little King-Post; dodge round the try-works, now, and let s hear what he ll have to say. There; he s before it; he ll out with something presently. So, so; he s beginning.
I see nothing here, but a round thing made of gold, and whoever raises a certain whale, this round thing belongs to him. So, what s all this staring been about? It is worth sixteen dollars, that s true; and at two cents the cigar, that s nine hundred and sixty cigars. I wont smoke dirty pipes like Stubb, but I like cigars, and here s nine hundred and sixty of them; so here goes Flask aloft to spy em out.
Shall I call that wise or foolish, now; if it be really wise it has a foolish look to it; yet, if it be really foolish, then has it a sort of wiseish look to it. But, avast; here comes our old Manxmanthe old hearse-driver, he must have been, that is, before he took to the sea. He luffs up before the doubloon; halloa, and goes round on the other side of the mast; why, there s a horse-shoe nailed on that side; and now he s back again; what does that mean? Hark! he s mutteringvoice like an old worn-out coffee-mill. Prick ears, and listen!
If the White Whale be raised, it must be in a month and a day, when the sun stands in some one of these signs. I ve studied signs, and know their marks; they were taught me twoscore years ago, by the old witch in Copenhagen. Now, in what sign will the sun then be? The horse-shoe sign; for there it is, right opposite the gold. And what s the horse-shoe sign? The lion is the horse-shoe signthe roaring and devouring lion. Ship, old ship! my old head shakes to think of thee.
There s another rendering now; but still one text. All sorts of men in one kind of world, you see. Dodge again! here comes Queequegall tattooinglooks like the signs of the Zodiac himself. What says the cannibal? As I live he s comparing notes; looking at his thigh-bone; thinks the sun is in the thigh, or in the calf, or in the bowels, I suppose, as the old women talk Surgeons Astronomy in the back country. And by Jove, he s found something there in the vicinity of his thighI guess it s Sagittarius, or the Archer. No: he dont know what to make of the doubloon; he takes it for an old button off some kings trowsers. But, aside again! here comes that ghost-devil, Fedallah; tail coiled out of sight as usual, oakum in the toes of his pumps as usual. What does he say, with that look of his? Ah, only makes a sign to the sign and bows himself; there is a sun on the coinfire-worshipper, depend upon it. Ho! more and more. This way comes Pippoor boy! would he had died, or I; he s half horrible to me. He too has been watching all of these interpretersmyself includedand look now, he comes to read, with that unearthly idiot face. Stand away again and hear him. Hark!
And I, you, and he; and we, ye, and they, are all bats; and I m a crow, especially when I stand atop of this pine-tree here. Caw! caw! caw! caw! caw! caw! Aint I a crow? And where s the scarecrow? There he stands; two bones stuck into a pair of old trowsers, and two more poked into the sleeves of an old jacket.
Wonder if he means me?complimentary!poor lad!I could go hang myself. Anyway, for the present, I ll quit Pips vicinity. I can stand the rest, for they have plain wits; but he s too crazy-witty for my sanity. So, so, I leave him muttering.
Here s the ships navel, this doubloon here, and they are all on fire to unscrew it. But, unscrew your navel, and what s the consequence? Then again, if it stays here, that is ugly, too, for when aught s nailed to the mast it s a sign that things grow desperate. Ha, ha! old Ahab! the White Whale; he ll nail ye! This is a pine-tree. My father, in old Tolland county, cut down a pine-tree once, and found a silver ring grown over in it; some old darkeys wedding ring. How did it get there? And so they ll say in the resurrection, when they come to fish up this old mast, and find a doubloon lodged in it, with bedded oysters for the shaggy bark. Oh, the gold! the precious, precious, gold!the green miser ll hoard ye soon! Hish! hish! God goes mong the worlds blackberrying. Cook! ho, cook! and cook us! Jenny! hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, Jenny, Jenny! and get your hoe-cake done!