Stand not by me, but stand under me, whoever you are that will now help Stubb; for Stubb, too, sticks here.
I grin at thee, thou grinning whale!
Who ever helped Stubb, or kept Stubb awake, but Stubb’s own unwinking eye?
And now poor Stubb goes to bed upon a mattrass that is all too soft; would it were stuffed with brushwood!
I grin at thee, thou grinning whale!
Look ye, sun, moon, and stars!
I call ye assassins of as good a fellow as ever spouted up his ghost.
For all that, I would yet ring glasses with ye, would ye but hand the cup!
Oh, oh!
oh, oh!
thou grinning whale, but there’ll be plenty of gulping soon!
Why fly ye not, O Ahab!
For me, off shoes and jacket to it; let Stubb die in his drawers!
A most mouldy and over salted death, though;—cherries!
cherries!
cherries!
Oh, Flask, for one red cherry ere we die!