Moby Dick; or, The Whale (version 2) — 39: First night-watch

(_Stubb solus, and 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— 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.

CHAPTER XL. MIDNIGHT, FORECASTLE.