Before this equatorial coin, Ahab, not unobserved by others,
was now pausing.
"There's something ever egotistical in mountain-tops
and towers, and all other grand and lofty things; look here,--
three peaks as proud as Lucifer. The firm tower, that is Ahab;
the volcano, that is Ahab; the courageous, the undaunted,
and victorious fowl, that, too, is Ahab; all are Ahab;
and this round gold is but the image of the rounder globe,
which, like a magician's glass, to each and every man in turn
but mirrors back his own mysterious self. Great pains,
small gains for those who ask the world to solve them; it cannot
solve itself. Methinks now this coined sun wears a ruddy face;
but see! aye, he enters the sign of storms, the equinox!
and but six months before he wheeled out of a former equinox
at Aries! From storm to storm! So be it, then. Born in throes,
't is fit that man should live in pains and die in pangs!
So be it, then! Here's stout stuff for woe to work on.
So be it, then."
"No fairy fingers can have pressed the gold, but devil's
claws must have left their mouldings there since yesterday,"
murmured Starbuck to himself, leaning against the bulwarks.
"The old man seems to read Belshazzar's awful writing.
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