第一百二十一章 午夜——艏楼舷墙
午夜——艏楼舷墙
斯达巴克和弗拉斯克站在上面，给悬挂在那里的锚增加捆绑的绳索。
"不，斯塔布；你可以使劲砸那个绳结，但你永远别想让我明白你刚才说的话。而且，多久以前你才说过完全相反的话？你难道没说过，凡是亚哈船长指挥的船，那船上的保险单就该多付些额外费用，就好比船尾装满了火药桶，船头堆满了火柴盒？别急，现在，你难道没这么说过？"
"好吧，就算我说过，那又怎样？从那以后，我的肉体都换了一半，我的想法为什么不能变？再说了，就算我们船尾装满了火药桶，船头堆满了火柴盒；在这种湿漉漉的水花里，火柴盒他妈的怎么能着火呢？哎呀，我的小兄弟，你头发挺红，可现在你也发不了火啊。抖抖身子；你是宝瓶座，或者说打水的人，弗拉斯克；你衣领里都能装满水罐了。你难道没看出来，这些额外的风险，海上保险公司有额外的保障？这里就有消火栓，弗拉斯克。不过，再听听，我来回答你另一件事。先把你的腿从这锚冠上拿开，这样我才能把绳子绕过去；现在听着。暴风雨中，握住桅杆避雷针，与暴风雨中紧挨着一根没有避雷针的桅杆站着，有什么天大的区别？你这榆木脑袋，你难道不明白，除非桅杆先被击中，否则握着避雷针的人是不会受伤的吗？那你又在胡扯些什么？一百艘船里没有一艘装避雷针，而亚哈——没错，老兄，还有我们所有人——依我看，当时并不比现在航行在海上的一万艘船上的所有船员更危险。哎呀，你这根中柱，你，我猜你大概想让全世界每个人都戴一顶帽子，帽檐上竖着一根小避雷针，像民兵军官的羽毛饰一样，身后还拖着一条像绶带似的东西。弗拉斯克，你为什么不讲点道理？讲道理很容易；那你为什么不懂呢？任何长半只眼睛的人都能明白。"
"我可不知道，斯塔布。有时候你会发现讲道理挺难的。"
"是啊，当一个家伙浑身湿透的时候，确实很难讲道理，这是事实。我也快被这浪花浇透了。没关系；抓住那边的弯头，把绳子递过来。我看我们现在把这些锚绑得好像再也不打算用了似的。把这两只锚拴在这儿，弗拉斯克，就像把一个人的双手反绑在背后。它们真是又大又慷慨的手，没错。这是你的铁拳，嘿？抓得还挺牢！我在想，弗拉斯克，这个世界是不是拴在某个地方；如果是的话，它晃荡的缆绳倒是长得离奇。好了，把那绳结锤下去，我们就干完了。就这样；除了踏上陆地，甲板上落脚是最舒服的了。我说，帮我把上衣下摆拧干，行吗？谢谢。他们总笑话长外套，弗拉斯克；可在我看来，在海上遇到风暴时，就该一直穿长尾大衣。那衣摆这样逐渐变细，正好能导水，明白吗。三角帽也是同样的道理；那翘起的帽檐就像山墙端的排水槽，弗拉斯克。我可不穿什么猴子夹克和油布雨衣了；我得穿上燕尾服，戴上海狸帽，就这样。哈喽！嚯！我的油布雨衣掉到船外去了；天哪，天哪，这来自天堂的风怎么这么无礼！今晚可真够呛，小伙子。"
_Stubb and Flask mounted on them, and passing additional lashings over
the anchors there hanging._
“No, Stubb; you may pound that knot there as much as you please, but
you will never pound into me what you were just now saying. And how
long ago is it since you said the very contrary? Didn’t you once say
that whatever ship Ahab sails in, that ship should pay something extra
on its insurance policy, just as though it were loaded with powder
barrels aft and boxes of lucifers forward? Stop, now; didn’t you say
so?”
“Well, suppose I did? What then? I’ve part changed my flesh since that
time, why not my mind? Besides, supposing we _are_ loaded with powder
barrels aft and lucifers forward; how the devil could the lucifers get
afire in this drenching spray here? Why, my little man, you have pretty
red hair, but you couldn’t get afire now. Shake yourself; you’re
Aquarius, or the water-bearer, Flask; might fill pitchers at your coat
collar. Don’t you see, then, that for these extra risks the Marine
Insurance companies have extra guarantees? Here are hydrants, Flask.
But hark, again, and I’ll answer ye the other thing. First take your
leg off from the crown of the anchor here, though, so I can pass the
rope; now listen. What’s the mighty difference between holding a mast’s
lightning-rod in the storm, and standing close by a mast that hasn’t
got any lightning-rod at all in a storm? Don’t you see, you
timber-head, that no harm can come to the holder of the rod, unless the
mast is first struck? What are you talking about, then? Not one ship in
a hundred carries rods, and Ahab,—aye, man, and all of us,—were in no
more danger then, in my poor opinion, than all the crews in ten
thousand ships now sailing the seas. Why, you King-Post, you, I suppose
you would have every man in the world go about with a small
lightning-rod running up the corner of his hat, like a militia
officer’s skewered feather, and trailing behind like his sash. Why
don’t ye be sensible, Flask? it’s easy to be sensible; why don’t ye,
then? any man with half an eye can be sensible.”
“I don’t know that, Stubb. You sometimes find it rather hard.”
“Yes, when a fellow’s soaked through, it’s hard to be sensible, that’s
a fact. And I am about drenched with this spray. Never mind; catch the
turn there, and pass it. Seems to me we are lashing down these anchors
now as if they were never going to be used again. Tying these two
anchors here, Flask, seems like tying a man’s hands behind him. And
what big generous hands they are, to be sure. These are your iron
fists, hey? What a hold they have, too! I wonder, Flask, whether the
world is anchored anywhere; if she is, she swings with an uncommon long
cable, though. There, hammer that knot down, and we’ve done. So; next
to touching land, lighting on deck is the most satisfactory. I say,
just wring out my jacket skirts, will ye? Thank ye. They laugh at
long-togs so, Flask; but seems to me, a long tailed coat ought always
to be worn in all storms afloat. The tails tapering down that way,
serve to carry off the water, d’ye see. Same with cocked hats; the
cocks form gable-end eave-troughs, Flask. No more monkey-jackets and
tarpaulins for me; I must mount a swallow-tail, and drive down a
beaver; so. Halloa! whew! there goes my tarpaulin overboard; Lord,
Lord, that the winds that come from heaven should be so unmannerly!
This is a nasty night, lad.”
