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1This is much; yet Ahab's larger, darker, deeper part remains unhinted. But vain to popularize profundities, and all
2truth is profound. Winding far down from within the very heart of this spiked Hotel de Cluny where we here
3stand--however grand and wonderful, now quit it;--and take your way, ye nobler, sadder souls, to those vast Roman halls
4of Thermes; where far beneath the fantastic towers of man's upper earth, his root of grandeur, his whole awful essence
5sits in bearded state; an antique buried beneath antiquities, and throned on torsoes! So with a broken throne, the great
6gods mock that captive king; so like a Caryatid, he patient sits, upholding on his frozen brow the piled entablatures of
7ages. Wind ye down there, ye prouder, sadder souls! question that proud, sad king! A family likeness! aye, he did beget
8ye, ye young exiled royalties; and from your grim sire only will the old State-secret come. Now, in his heart, Ahab had
9some glimpse of this, namely: all my means are sane, my motive and my object mad. Yet without power to kill, or change,
10or shun the fact; he likewise knew that to mankind he did long dissemble; in some sort, did still. But that thing of his
11dissembling was only subject to his perceptibility, not to his will determinate. Nevertheless, so well did he succeed in
12that dissembling, that when with ivory leg he stepped ashore at last, no Nantucketer thought him otherwise than but
13naturally grieved, and that to the quick, with the terrible casualty which had overtaken him. The report of his
14undeniable delirium at sea was likewise popularly ascribed to a kindred cause. And so too, all the added moodiness which
15always afterwards, to the very day of sailing in the Pequod on the present voyage, sat brooding on his brow. Nor is it
16so very unlikely, that far from distrusting his fitness for another whaling voyage, on account of such dark symptoms,
17the calculating people of that prudent isle were inclined to harbor the conceit, that for those very reasons he was all
18the better qualified and set on edge, for a pursuit so full of rage and wildness as the bloody hunt of whales. Gnawed
19within and scorched without, with the infixed, unrelenting fangs of some incurable idea; such an one, could he be found,
20would seem the very man to dart his iron and lift his lance against the most appalling of all brutes. Or, if for any
21reason thought to be corporeally incapacitated for that, yet such an one would seem superlatively competent to cheer and
22howl on his underlings to the attack. But be all this as it may, certain it is, that with the mad secret of his unabated
23rage bolted up and keyed in him, Ahab had purposely sailed upon the present voyage with the one only and all-engrossing
24object of hunting the White Whale. Had any one of his old acquaintances on shore but half dreamed of what was lurking in
25him then, how soon would their aghast and righteous souls have wrenched the ship from such a fiendish man! They were
26bent on profitable cruises, the profit to be counted down in dollars from the mint. He was intent on an audacious,
27immitigable, and supernatural revenge. Here, then, was this grey-headed, ungodly old man, chasing with curses a Job's
28whale round the world, at the head of a crew, too, chiefly made up of mongrel renegades, and castaways, and
29cannibals--morally enfeebled also, by the incompetence of mere unaided virtue or right-mindedness in Starbuck, the
30invulnerable jollity of indifference and recklessness in Stubb, and the pervading mediocrity in Flask. Such a crew, so
31officered, seemed specially picked and packed by some infernal fatality to help him to his monomaniac revenge. How it
32was that they so aboundingly responded to the old man's ire--by what evil magic their souls were possessed, that at
33times his hate seemed almost theirs; the White Whale as much their insufferable foe as his; how all this came to
34be--what the White Whale was to them, or how to their unconscious understandings, also, in some dim, unsuspected way, he
35might have seemed the gliding great demon of the seas of life,--all this to explain, would be to dive deeper than
36Ishmael can go. The subterranean miner that works in us all, how can one tell whither leads his shaft by the ever
37shifting, muffled sound of his pick? Who does not feel the irresistible arm drag? What skiff in tow of a seventy-four
38can stand still? For one, I gave myself up to the abandonment of the time and the place; but while yet all a-rush to
39encounter the whale, could see naught in that brute but the deadliest ill.
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