- description
- # CHAPTER 38. Dusk.
## Overview - What this is (type, form, dates, scope)
This is a section from the novel *Moby Dick* by Herman Melville, labeled "CHAPTER 38. Dusk." It is a textual excerpt extracted from the file [moby_dick.txt](arke:01KG89J198KE6FY8WPVJQQRCZ6) and is part of the [Melville Complete Works](arke:01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW) collection. The section was extracted on January 30, 2026, and edited manually by the Structure Extraction user.
## Context - Background and provenance from related entities
This section is part of the larger chapter, "BOOK III. (_Duodecimo_), CHAPTER III. (_Mealy-mouthed Porpoise_)" and follows "CHAPTER 37. Sunset." ([arke:01KG8AM6RTAHEBR36WZH65Y767]) and precedes "CHAPTER 39. First Night-Watch." ([arke:01KG8AM6RTP81674S2T7T8N5PJ]). The text was extracted from the source file *moby_dick.txt*, which is part of the Melville Complete Works collection.
## Contents - What it contains, key subjects and details
The chapter opens with Starbuck's soliloquy, reflecting on his situation and the influence of Ahab. Starbuck expresses his internal conflict, feeling bound to Ahab despite recognizing his madness. He describes his "miserable office,—to obey, rebelling; and worse yet, to hate with touch of pity!" The chapter then shifts to a description of the crew's revelry, contrasting it with the silence of the officers. Starbuck then reflects on the "latent horror" of life.
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- description_title
- CHAPTER 38. Dusk.
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- 2026-01-30T20:48:29.272Z
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- text
- CHAPTER 38. Dusk.
_By the Mainmast; Starbuck leaning against it_.
My soul is more than matched; she’s overmanned; and by a madman!
Insufferable sting, that sanity should ground arms on such a field! But
he drilled deep down, and blasted all my reason out of me! I think I
see his impious end; but feel that I must help him to it. Will I, nill
I, the ineffable thing has tied me to him; tows me with a cable I have
no knife to cut. Horrible old man! Who’s over him, he cries;—aye, he
would be a democrat to all above; look, how he lords it over all below!
Oh! I plainly see my miserable office,—to obey, rebelling; and worse
yet, to hate with touch of pity! For in his eyes I read some lurid woe
would shrivel me up, had I it. Yet is there hope. Time and tide flow
wide. The hated whale has the round watery world to swim in, as the
small gold-fish has its glassy globe. His heaven-insulting purpose, God
may wedge aside. I would up heart, were it not like lead. But my whole
clock’s run down; my heart the all-controlling weight, I have no key to
lift again.
[_A burst of revelry from the forecastle_.]
Oh, God! to sail with such a heathen crew that have small touch of
human mothers in them! Whelped somewhere by the sharkish sea. The white
whale is their demigorgon. Hark! the infernal orgies! that revelry is
forward! mark the unfaltering silence aft! Methinks it pictures life.
Foremost through the sparkling sea shoots on the gay, embattled,
bantering bow, but only to drag dark Ahab after it, where he broods
within his sternward cabin, builded over the dead water of the wake,
and further on, hunted by its wolfish gurglings. The long howl thrills
me through! Peace! ye revellers, and set the watch! Oh, life! ’tis in
an hour like this, with soul beat down and held to knowledge,—as wild,
untutored things are forced to feed—Oh, life! ’tis now that I do feel
the latent horror in thee! but ’tis not me! that horror’s out of me!
and with the soft feeling of the human in me, yet will I try to fight
ye, ye grim, phantom futures! Stand by me, hold me, bind me, O ye
blessed influences!
- title
- CHAPTER 38. Dusk.