129. CHAPTER CXXIX.
THE CABIN.
(Ahab moving to go on deck; Pip catches him by the hand to
follow.)
“Lad, lad, I tell thee thou must not follow Ahab now. The
hour is coming when Ahab would not scare thee from him, yet
would not have thee by him. There is that in thee, poor lad,
which I feel too curing to my malady. Like cures like; and
for this hunt, my malady becomes my most desired health. Do
thou abide below here, where they shall serve thee, as if thou
wert the captain. Aye, lad, thou shalt sit here in my own
screwed chair; another screw to it, thou must be.”
“No, no, no! ye have not a whole body, sir; do ye but use
poor me for your one lost leg; only tread upon me, sir; I ask
no more, so I remain a part of ye.”
“Oh! spite of million villains, this makes me a bigot in the
fadeless fidelity of man!—and a black! and crazy!—but methinks
like-cures-like applies to him too; he grows so sane
again.”
“They tell me, sir, that Stubb did once desert poor little Pip,
whose drowned bones now show white, for all the blackness of
his living skin. But I will never desert ye, sir, as Stubb did
him. Sir, I must go with ye.”
“If thou speakest thus to me much more, Ahab's purpose
keels up in him. I tell thee no; it cannot be.”
“Oh good master, master, master!”
“Weep so, and I will murder thee! have a care, for Ahab
too is mad. Listen, and thou wilt often hear my ivory foot upon
the deck, and still know that I am there. And now I quit thee.
Thy hand!—Met! True art thou, lad, as the circumference
to its centre. So: God for ever bless thee; and if it come to
that,—God for ever save thee, let what will befall.”
(Ahab goes; Pip steps one step forward.)
“Here he this instant stood; I stand in his air,—but I'm
alone. Now were even poor Pip here I could endure it, but
he's missing. Pip! Pip! Ding, dong, ding! Who's seen Pip?
He must be up here; let's try the door. What? neither lock,
nor bolt, nor bar; and yet there's no opening it. It must be
the spell; he told me to stay here: Aye, and told me this
screwed chair was mine. Here, then, I'll seat me, against the
transom, in the ship's full middle, all her keel and her three
masts before me. Here, our old sailors say, in their black
seventy-fours great admirals sometimes sit at table, and lord it
over rows of captains and lieutenants. Ha! what's this? epaulets!
epaulets! the epaulets all come crowding! Pass round the
decanters; glad to see ye; fill up, monsieurs! What an odd
feeling, now, when a black boy's host to white men with gold
lace upon their coats!—Monsieurs, have ye seen one Pip?—a
little negro lad, five feet high, hang-dog look, and cowardly!
Jumped from a whale-boat once;—seen him? No! Well
then, fill up again, captains, and let's drink shame upon all
cowards! I name no names. Shame upon them! Put one
foot upon the table. Shame upon all cowards.—Hist! above
there, I hear ivory—Oh, master! master! I am indeed downhearted
when you walk over me. But here I'll stay, though
this stern strikes rocks; and they bulge through; and oysters
come to join me.”
