ship starts upon this voyage, Starbuck.”

“Aye, sir, thou wilt have it so.”

“Some ships sail from their ports, and ever afterwards are missing, Starbuck!”

“Truth, sir: saddest truth.”

“Some men die at ebb tide; some at low water; some at the full of the flood; — and I feel now like a billow that’s all one crested comb, Starbuck.

I am old; — shake hands with me, man.”

Their hands met; their eyes fastened; Starbuck’s tears the glue.

“Oh, my captain, my captain! — noble heart — go not — go not! — see, it’s a brave man that weeps; how great the agony of the persuasion then!”