is done! We head for Nantucket! Come, my Captain, study out the course, and let us away! See, see! The boy’s face from the window! The boy’s hand on the hill!”

But Ahab’s glance was averted; like a blighted fruit tree he shook, and cast his last, cindered apple to the soil.

“What is it, what nameless, inscrutable, unearthly thing is it; what cozening, hidden lord and master, and cruel, remorseless emperor commands me; that against all natural lovings and longings, I so keep pushing, and crowding, and jamming myself on all the time; recklessly making me ready to do what in my own proper, natural heart, I durst not so much as dare?

Is Ahab, Ahab? Is it I, God, or who, that lifts this arm? But if the great sun move not of