{"id":"01KFNR8B8XGTWQWZB3B936W0ZF","cid":"bafkreihalo4z53ujab6aonohlktj445vc72z4i2lffnhcn75xjsofao3y4","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":16777,"extracted_at":"2026-01-23T15:41:06.396Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 3","source_file":"01KFNR0Z394A878Y5AQ63MQEM2","start_line":16718,"text":"those who ask the world to solve them; it cannot solve itself. Methinks\r\nnow this coined sun wears a ruddy face; but see! aye, he enters the\r\nsign of storms, the equinox! and but six months before he wheeled out\r\nof a former equinox at Aries! From storm to storm! So be it, then. Born\r\nin throes, ’tis fit that man should live in pains and die in pangs! So\r\nbe it, then! Here’s stout stuff for woe to work on. So be it, then.”\r\n\r\n“No fairy fingers can have pressed the gold, but devil’s claws must\r\nhave left their mouldings there since yesterday,” murmured Starbuck to\r\nhimself, leaning against the bulwarks. “The old man seems to read\r\nBelshazzar’s awful writing. I have never marked the coin inspectingly.\r\nHe goes below; let me read. A dark valley between three mighty,\r\nheaven-abiding peaks, that almost seem the Trinity, in some faint\r\nearthly symbol. So in this vale of Death, God girds us round; and over\r\nall our gloom, the sun of Righteousness still shines a beacon and a\r\nhope. If we bend down our eyes, the dark vale shows her mouldy soil;\r\nbut if we lift them, the bright sun meets our glance half way, to\r\ncheer. Yet, oh, the great sun is no fixture; and if, at midnight, we\r\nwould fain snatch some sweet solace from him, we gaze for him in vain!\r\nThis coin speaks wisely, mildly, truly, but still sadly to me. I will\r\nquit it, lest Truth shake me falsely.”\r\n\r\n“There now’s the old Mogul,” soliloquized Stubb by the try-works, “he’s\r\nbeen twigging it; and there goes Starbuck from the same, and both with\r\nfaces which I should say might be somewhere within nine fathoms long.\r\nAnd all from looking at a piece of gold, which did I have it now on\r\nNegro Hill or in Corlaer’s Hook, I’d not look at it very long ere\r\nspending it. Humph! in my poor, insignificant opinion, I regard this as\r\nqueer. I have seen doubloons before now in my voyagings; your doubloons\r\nof old Spain, your doubloons of Peru, your doubloons of Chili, your\r\ndoubloons of Bolivia, your doubloons of Popayan; with plenty of gold\r\nmoidores and pistoles, and joes, and half joes, and quarter joes. What\r\nthen should there be in this doubloon of the Equator that is so killing\r\nwonderful? By Golconda! let me read it once. Halloa! here’s signs and\r\nwonders truly! That, now, is what old Bowditch in his Epitome calls the\r\nzodiac, and what my almanac below calls ditto. I’ll get the almanac and\r\nas I have heard devils can be raised with Daboll’s arithmetic, I’ll try\r\nmy hand at raising a meaning out of these queer curvicues here with the\r\nMassachusetts calendar. Here’s the book. Let’s see now. Signs and\r\nwonders; and the sun, he’s always among ’em. Hem, hem, hem; here they\r\nare—here they go—all alive:—Aries, or the Ram; Taurus, or the Bull and\r\nJimimi! here’s Gemini himself, or the Twins. Well; the sun he wheels\r\namong ’em. Aye, here on the coin he’s just crossing the threshold\r\nbetween two of twelve sitting-rooms all in a ring. Book! you lie there;\r\nthe fact is, you books must know your places. You’ll do to give us the\r\nbare words and facts, but we come in to supply the thoughts. That’s my\r\nsmall experience, so far as the Massachusetts calendar, and Bowditch’s\r\nnavigator, and Daboll’s arithmetic go. Signs and wonders, eh? Pity if\r\nthere is nothing wonderful in signs, and significant in wonders!\r\nThere’s a clue somewhere; wait a bit; hist—hark! By Jove, I have it!\r\nLook you, Doubloon, your zodiac here is the life of man in one round\r\nchapter; and now I’ll read it off, straight out of the book. Come,\r\nAlmanack! To begin: there’s Aries, or the Ram—lecherous dog, he begets\r\nus; then, Taurus, or the Bull—he bumps us the first thing; then Gemini,\r\nor the Twins—that is, Virtue and Vice; we try to reach Virtue, when lo!\r\ncomes Cancer the Crab, and drags us back; and here, going from Virtue,\r\nLeo, a roaring Lion, lies in the path—he gives a few fierce bites and\r\nsurly dabs with his paw; we escape, and hail Virgo, the Virgin! that’s\r\nour first love; we marry and think to be happy for aye, when pop comes\r\nLibra, or the Scales—happiness weighed and found wanting; and while we\r","title":"Chunk 3"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KFNR8380YKNGSF7KBSA9YC6S","peer_label":"Stowing Down and Clearing Up","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KFNR8380YKNGSF7KBSA9YC6S","peer_label":"Stowing Down and Clearing Up","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":"01KFNR8B95N3G4T8GKX7CV8N1C","peer_label":"Chunk 2","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-23T15:41:06.865Z","ts":"2026-01-23T15:41:19.981Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}