{"id":"01KFNR88HCHR758M8TP81C7FCB","cid":"bafkreiatwjwg62fcdj3e472vollap5mfut5bnlsuuiagzep5nrab3ut2eq","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":7204,"extracted_at":"2026-01-23T15:41:03.420Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KFNR0Z394A878Y5AQ63MQEM2","start_line":7121,"text":"it, stig it, quig it, bell-boy! Make fire-flies; break the jinglers!\r\n\r\nPIP. Jinglers, you say?—there goes another, dropped off; I pound it so.\r\n\r\nCHINA SAILOR. Rattle thy teeth, then, and pound away; make a pagoda of\r\nthyself.\r\n\r\nFRENCH SAILOR. Merry-mad! Hold up thy hoop, Pip, till I jump through\r\nit! Split jibs! tear yourselves!\r\n\r\nTASHTEGO. (_Quietly smoking._) That’s a white man; he calls that fun:\r\nhumph! I save my sweat.\r\n\r\nOLD MANX SAILOR. I wonder whether those jolly lads bethink them of what\r\nthey are dancing over. I’ll dance over your grave, I will—that’s the\r\nbitterest threat of your night-women, that beat head-winds round\r\ncorners. O Christ! to think of the green navies and the green-skulled\r\ncrews! Well, well; belike the whole world’s a ball, as you scholars\r\nhave it; and so ’tis right to make one ballroom of it. Dance on, lads,\r\nyou’re young; I was once.\r\n\r\n3D NANTUCKET SAILOR. Spell oh!—whew! this is worse than pulling after\r\nwhales in a calm—give us a whiff, Tash.\r\n\r\n(_They cease dancing, and gather in clusters. Meantime the sky\r\ndarkens—the wind rises_.)\r\n\r\nLASCAR SAILOR. By Brahma! boys, it’ll be douse sail soon. The sky-born,\r\nhigh-tide Ganges turned to wind! Thou showest thy black brow, Seeva!\r\n\r\nMALTESE SAILOR. (_Reclining and shaking his cap_.) It’s the waves—the\r\nsnow’s caps turn to jig it now. They’ll shake their tassels soon. Now\r\nwould all the waves were women, then I’d go drown, and chassee with\r\nthem evermore! There’s naught so sweet on earth—heaven may not match\r\nit!—as those swift glances of warm, wild bosoms in the dance, when the\r\nover-arboring arms hide such ripe, bursting grapes.\r\n\r\nSICILIAN SAILOR. (_Reclining_.) Tell me not of it! Hark ye, lad—fleet\r\ninterlacings of the limbs—lithe swayings—coyings—flutterings! lip!\r\nheart! hip! all graze: unceasing touch and go! not taste, observe ye,\r\nelse come satiety. Eh, Pagan? (_Nudging_.)\r\n\r\nTAHITAN SAILOR. (_Reclining on a mat_.) Hail, holy nakedness of our\r\ndancing girls!—the Heeva-Heeva! Ah! low veiled, high palmed Tahiti! I\r\nstill rest me on thy mat, but the soft soil has slid! I saw thee woven\r\nin the wood, my mat! green the first day I brought ye thence; now worn\r\nand wilted quite. Ah me!—not thou nor I can bear the change! How then,\r\nif so be transplanted to yon sky? Hear I the roaring streams from\r\nPirohitee’s peak of spears, when they leap down the crags and drown the\r\nvillages?—The blast! the blast! Up, spine, and meet it! (_Leaps to his\r\nfeet_.)\r\n\r\nPORTUGUESE SAILOR. How the sea rolls swashing ’gainst the side! Stand\r\nby for reefing, hearties! the winds are just crossing swords, pell-mell\r\nthey’ll go lunging presently.\r\n\r\nDANISH SAILOR. Crack, crack, old ship! so long as thou crackest, thou\r\nholdest! Well done! The mate there holds ye to it stiffly. He’s no more\r\nafraid than the isle fort at Cattegat, put there to fight the Baltic\r\nwith storm-lashed guns, on which the sea-salt cakes!\r\n\r\n4TH NANTUCKET SAILOR. He has his orders, mind ye that. I heard old Ahab\r\ntell him he must always kill a squall, something as they burst a\r\nwaterspout with a pistol—fire your ship right into it!\r\n\r\nENGLISH SAILOR. Blood! but that old man’s a grand old cove! We are the\r\nlads to hunt him up his whale!\r\n\r\nALL. Aye! aye!\r\n\r\nOLD MANX SAILOR. How the three pines shake! Pines are the hardest sort\r\nof tree to live when shifted to any other soil, and here there’s none\r\nbut the crew’s cursed clay. Steady, helmsman! steady. This is the sort\r\nof weather when brave hearts snap ashore, and keeled hulls split at\r\nsea. Our captain has his birthmark; look yonder, boys, there’s another\r\nin the sky—lurid-like, ye see, all else pitch black.\r\n\r\nDAGGOO. What of that? Who’s afraid of black’s afraid of me! I’m\r\nquarried out of it!\r\n\r\nSPANISH SAILOR. (_Aside_.) He wants to bully, ah!—the old grudge makes\r\nme touchy (_Advancing_.) Aye, harpooneer, thy race is the undeniable\r\ndark side of mankind—devilish dark at that. No offence.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KFNR84EW497GBXQNYGTEEYYT","peer_label":"40","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KFNR84EW497GBXQNYGTEEYYT","peer_label":"40","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"partOf"},{"peer":"01KFNR81RMVAX2BBMMBW51V97D","peer_label":"Moby Dick; Or, The Whale","peer_type":"novel","predicate":"partOf"},{"peer":"01KFNR0H0Q791Y1SMZWEQ09FGV","peer_label":"Moby Dick","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KFNR887QM2HHXMDBH11Y8Y8A","peer_label":"Chunk 2","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"},{"peer":"01KFNR889G1QFQ68PRWSB9Z7J3","peer_label":"Chunk 0","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-23T15:41:04.091Z","ts":"2026-01-23T15:41:16.565Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}