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- Герман Мелвилл
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- Моби Дик
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- Стр. 253/297
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"
Old
Thunder
!
"
said
Ahab
,
groping
his
way
along
the
bulwarks
to
his
pivot-hole
;
but
suddenly
finding
his
path
made
plain
to
him
by
elbowed
lances
of
fire
.
Now
,
as
the
lightning
rod
to
a
spire
on
shore
is
intended
to
carry
off
the
perilous
fluid
into
the
soil
;
so
the
kindred
rod
which
at
sea
some
ships
carry
to
each
mast
,
is
intended
to
conduct
it
into
the
water
.
But
as
this
conductor
must
descend
to
considerable
depth
,
that
its
end
may
avoid
all
contact
with
the
hull
;
and
as
moreover
,
if
kept
constantly
towing
there
,
it
would
be
liable
to
many
mishaps
,
besides
interfering
not
a
little
with
some
of
the
rigging
,
and
more
or
less
impeding
the
vessel
's
way
in
the
water
;
because
of
all
this
,
the
lower
parts
of
a
ship
's
lightning-rods
are
not
always
overboard
;
but
are
generally
made
in
long
slender
links
,
so
as
to
be
the
more
readily
hauled
up
into
the
chains
outside
,
or
thrown
down
into
the
sea
,
as
occasion
may
require
.
"
The
rods
!
the
rods
!
"
cried
Starbuck
to
the
crew
,
suddenly
admonished
to
vigilance
by
the
vivid
lightning
that
had
just
been
darting
flambeaux
,
to
light
Ahab
to
his
post
.
"
Are
they
overboard
?
drop
them
over
,
fore
and
aft
.
Quick
!
"
"
Avast
!
"
cried
Ahab
;
"
let
's
have
fair
play
here
,
though
we
be
the
weaker
side
.
Yet
I
'll
contribute
to
raise
rods
on
the
Himmalehs
and
Andes
,
that
all
the
world
may
be
secured
;
but
out
on
privileges
!
Let
them
be
,
sir
.
"
"
Look
aloft
!
"
cried
Starbuck
.
"
The
corpusants
!
the
corpusants
!
All
the
yard-arms
were
tipped
with
a
pallid
fire
;
and
touched
at
each
tri-pointed
lightning-rod-end
with
three
tapering
white
flames
,
each
of
the
three
tall
masts
was
silently
burning
in
that
sulphurous
air
,
like
three
gigantic
wax
tapers
before
an
altar
.
"
Blast
the
boat
!
let
it
go
!
"
cried
Stubb
at
this
instant
,
as
a
swashing
sea
heaved
up
under
his
own
little
craft
so
that
its
gunwale
violently
jammed
his
hand
,
as
he
was
passing
a
lashing
.
"
Blast
it
!
"
--
but
slipping
backward
on
the
deck
,
his
uplifted
eyes
caught
the
flames
;
and
immediately
shifting
his
tone
he
cried
--
"
The
corpusants
have
mercy
on
us
all
!
"
To
sailors
,
oaths
are
household
words
;
they
will
swear
in
the
trance
of
the
calm
,
and
in
the
teeth
of
the
tempest
;
they
will
imprecate
curses
from
the
topsail-yard-arms
,
when
most
they
teeter
over
to
a
seething
sea
;
but
in
all
my
voyagings
,
seldom
have
I
heard
a
common
oath
when
God
's
burning
finger
has
been
laid
on
the
ship
;
when
His
"
Mene
,
Mene
,
Tekel
Upharsin
"
has
been
woven
into
the
shrouds
and
the
cordage
.
