Moby Dick

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iron, men, the white whale's--no, no, no,--blistered fool! this hand did
dart it!--'tis in the fish!--Aloft there! Keep him nailed--Quick!--all
hands to the rigging of the boats--collect the oars--harpooneers!
the irons, the irons!--hoist the royals higher--a pull on all the
sheets!--helm there! steady, steady for your life! I'll ten times girdle
the unmeasured globe; yea and dive straight through it, but I'll slay
him yet!

"Great God! but for one single instant show thyself," cried Starbuck;
"never, never wilt thou capture him, old man--In Jesus' name no more of
this, that's worse than devil's madness. Two days chased; twice stove
to splinters; thy very leg once more snatched from under thee; thy evil
shadow gone--all good angels mobbing thee with warnings:--

"What more wouldst thou have?--Shall we keep chasing this murderous fish
till he swamps the last man? Shall we be dragged by him to the bottom
of the sea? Shall we be towed by him to the infernal world? Oh,