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- Герман Мелвилл
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- Моби Дик
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Belated
,
and
not
innocently
,
one
bitter
winter
's
midnight
,
on
the
road
running
between
two
country
towns
,
the
blacksmith
half-stupidly
felt
the
deadly
numbness
stealing
over
him
,
and
sought
refuge
in
a
leaning
,
dilapidated
barn
.
The
issue
was
,
the
loss
of
the
extremities
of
both
feet
.
Out
of
this
revelation
,
part
by
part
,
at
last
came
out
the
four
acts
of
the
gladness
,
and
the
one
long
,
and
as
yet
uncatastrophied
fifth
act
of
the
grief
of
his
life
's
drama
.
He
was
an
old
man
,
who
,
at
the
age
of
nearly
sixty
,
had
postponedly
encountered
that
thing
in
sorrow
's
technicals
called
ruin
.
He
had
been
an
artisan
of
famed
excellence
,
and
with
plenty
to
do
;
owned
a
house
and
garden
;
embraced
a
youthful
,
daughter-like
,
loving
wife
,
and
three
blithe
,
ruddy
children
;
every
Sunday
went
to
a
cheerful-looking
church
,
planted
in
a
grove
.
But
one
night
,
under
cover
of
darkness
,
and
further
concealed
in
a
most
cunning
disguisement
,
a
desperate
burglar
slid
into
his
happy
home
,
and
robbed
them
all
of
everything
.
And
darker
yet
to
tell
,
the
blacksmith
himself
did
ignorantly
conduct
this
burglar
into
his
family
's
heart
.
It
was
the
Bottle
Conjuror
!
Upon
the
opening
of
that
fatal
cork
,
forth
flew
the
fiend
,
and
shrivelled
up
his
home
.
Now
,
for
prudent
,
most
wise
,
and
economic
reasons
,
the
blacksmith
's
shop
was
in
the
basement
of
his
dwelling
,
but
with
a
separate
entrance
to
it
;
so
that
always
had
the
young
and
loving
healthy
wife
listened
with
no
unhappy
nervousness
,
but
with
vigorous
pleasure
,
to
the
stout
ringing
of
her
young-armed
old
husband
's
hammer
;
whose
reverberations
,
muffled
by
passing
through
the
floors
and
walls
,
came
up
to
her
,
not
unsweetly
,
in
her
nursery
;
and
so
,
to
stout
Labor
's
iron
lullaby
,
the
blacksmith
's
infants
were
rocked
to
slumber
.
Oh
,
woe
on
woe
!
Oh
,
Death
,
why
canst
thou
not
sometimes
be
timely
?
Hadst
thou
taken
this
old
blacksmith
to
thyself
ere
his
full
ruin
came
upon
him
,
then
had
the
young
widow
had
a
delicious
grief
,
and
her
orphans
a
truly
venerable
,
legendary
sire
to
dream
of
in
their
after
years
;
and
all
of
them
a
care-killing
competency
.
But
Death
plucked
down
some
virtuous
elder
brother
,
on
whose
whistling
daily
toil
solely
hung
the
responsibilities
of
some
other
family
,
and
left
the
worse
than
useless
old
man
standing
,
till
the
hideous
rot
of
life
should
make
him
easier
to
harvest
.
Why
tell
the
whole
?
The
blows
of
the
basement
hammer
every
day
grew
more
and
more
between
;
and
each
blow
every
day
grew
fainter
than
the
last
;
the
wife
sat
frozen
at
the
window
,
with
tearless
eyes
,
glitteringly
gazing
into
the
weeping
faces
of
her
children
;
the
bellows
fell
;
the
forge
choked
up
with
cinders
;
the
house
was
sold
;
the
mother
dived
down
into
the
long
church-yard
grass
;
her
children
twice
followed
her
thither
;
and
the
houseless
,
familyless
old
man
staggered
off
a
vagabond
in
crape
;
his
every
woe
unreverenced
;
his
grey
head
a
scorn
to
flaxen
curls
!
Death
seems
the
only
desirable
sequel
for
a
career
like
this
;
but
Death
is
only
a
launching
into
the
region
of
the
strange
Untried
;
it
is
but
the
first
salutation
to
the
possibilities
of
the
immense
Remote
,
the
Wild
,
the
Watery
,
the
Unshored
;
therefore
,
to
the
death-longing
eyes
of
such
men
,
who
still
have
left
in
them
some
interior
compunctions
against
suicide
,
does
the
all-contributed
and
all-receptive
ocean
alluringly
spread
forth
his
whole
plain
of
unimaginable
,
taking
terrors
,
and
wonderful
,
new-life
adventures
;
and
from
the
hearts
of
infinite
Pacifics
,
the
thousand
mermaids
sing
to
them
--
"
Come
hither
,
broken-hearted
;
here
is
another
life
without
the
guilt
of
intermediate
death
;
here
are
wonders
supernatural
,
without
dying
for
them
.
Come
hither
!
bury
thyself
in
a
life
which
,
to
your
now
equally
abhorred
and
abhorring
,
landed
world
,
is
more
oblivious
than
death
dome
hither
!
put
up
thy
grave-stone
,
too
,
within
the
churchyard
,
and
come
hither
,
till
we
marry
thee
!
"
Hearkening
to
these
voices
,
East
and
West
,
by
early
sunrise
,
and
by
fall
of
eve
,
the
blacksmith
's
soul
responded
,
Aye
,
I
come
!
And
so
Perth
went
a-whaling
.
With
matted
beard
,
and
swathed
in
a
bristling
shark-skin
apron
,
about
mid-day
,
Perth
was
standing
between
his
forge
and
anvil
,
the
latter
placed
upon
an
iron-wood
log
,
with
one
hand
holding
a
pike-head
in
the
coals
,
and
with
the
other
at
his
forge
's
lungs
,
when
Captain
Ahab
came
along
,
carrying
in
his
hand
a
small
rusty-looking
leathern
bag
.
While
yet
a
little
distance
from
the
forge
,
moody
Ahab
paused
;
till
at
last
,
Perth
,
withdrawing
his
iron
from
the
fire
,
began
hammering
it
upon
the
anvil
--
the
red
mass
sending
off
the
sparks
in
thick
hovering
flights
,
some
of
which
flew
close
to
Ahab
.
"
Are
these
thy
Mother
Carey
's
chickens
,
Perth
?
they
are
always
flying
in
thy
wake
;
birds
of
good
omen
,
too
,
but
not
to
all
;
--
look
here
,
they
burn
;
but
thou
--
thou
liv
's
t
among
them
without
a
scorch
.
"
