- description
- # Stubb's interpretation of the doubloon
## Overview
This section, titled "Stubb's interpretation of the doubloon," is an excerpt from Herman Melville's novel *Moby Dick*. It details Stubb's philosophical and astrological interpretation of the doubloon nailed to the mast of the *Pequod*. The text was extracted on January 30, 2026, from the digital file [moby_dick.txt](arke:01KG89J198KE6FY8WPVJQQRCZ6).
## Context
This section is part of [CHAPTER 99. The Doubloon.](arke:01KG8AMA8Z935HRK7VVGR9ARH4) within the larger [Melville Complete Works](arke:01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW) collection. It immediately follows [Stubb's initial observations](arke:01KG8ANJN9X0YQG3GC20PVYZM2) about the doubloon and is succeeded by [Flask's more pragmatic interpretation](arke:01KG8ANJN9SAP2K7XTYYFA4PH1) of the coin. The chapter features various crew members offering their personal interpretations of the doubloon, which serves as a symbolic focal point.
## Contents
In this section, Stubb, using a Massachusetts calendar and Bowditch's navigator, interprets the zodiac symbols on the doubloon as a metaphorical representation of the "life of man in one round chapter." He systematically goes through each zodiac sign, assigning a stage or event in human life to it: Aries (begetting), Taurus (first bumps), Gemini (Virtue and Vice), Cancer (being dragged back), Leo (fierce bites), Virgo (first love and marriage), Libra (happiness weighed and found wanting), Scorpio (stings), Sagittarius (arrows), Capricornus (tossed by a battering-ram), Aquarius (drowning), and Pisces (sleep). Stubb concludes his interpretation with a declaration of his own jolly nature, despite life's troubles, before Flask approaches the doubloon.
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- Stubb's interpretation of the doubloon
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- 2026-01-30T20:49:12.946Z
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- text
- then should there be in this doubloon of the Equator that is so killing
wonderful? By Golconda! let me read it once. Halloa! here’s signs and
wonders truly! That, now, is what old Bowditch in his Epitome calls the
zodiac, and what my almanac below calls ditto. I’ll get the almanac and
as I have heard devils can be raised with Daboll’s arithmetic, I’ll try
my hand at raising a meaning out of these queer curvicues here with the
Massachusetts calendar. Here’s the book. Let’s see now. Signs and
wonders; and the sun, he’s always among ’em. Hem, hem, hem; here they
are—here they go—all alive:—Aries, or the Ram; Taurus, or the Bull and
Jimimi! here’s Gemini himself, or the Twins. Well; the sun he wheels
among ’em. Aye, here on the coin he’s just crossing the threshold
between two of twelve sitting-rooms all in a ring. Book! you lie there;
the fact is, you books must know your places. You’ll do to give us the
bare words and facts, but we come in to supply the thoughts. That’s my
small experience, so far as the Massachusetts calendar, and Bowditch’s
navigator, and Daboll’s arithmetic go. Signs and wonders, eh? Pity if
there is nothing wonderful in signs, and significant in wonders!
There’s a clue somewhere; wait a bit; hist—hark! By Jove, I have it!
Look you, Doubloon, your zodiac here is the life of man in one round
chapter; and now I’ll read it off, straight out of the book. Come,
Almanack! To begin: there’s Aries, or the Ram—lecherous dog, he begets
us; then, Taurus, or the Bull—he bumps us the first thing; then Gemini,
or the Twins—that is, Virtue and Vice; we try to reach Virtue, when lo!
comes Cancer the Crab, and drags us back; and here, going from Virtue,
Leo, a roaring Lion, lies in the path—he gives a few fierce bites and
surly dabs with his paw; we escape, and hail Virgo, the Virgin! that’s
our first love; we marry and think to be happy for aye, when pop comes
Libra, or the Scales—happiness weighed and found wanting; and while we
are very sad about that, Lord! how we suddenly jump, as Scorpio, or the
Scorpion, stings us in the rear; we are curing the wound, when whang
come the arrows all round; Sagittarius, or the Archer, is amusing
himself. As we pluck out the shafts, stand aside! here’s the
battering-ram, Capricornus, or the Goat; full tilt, he comes rushing,
and headlong we are tossed; when Aquarius, or the Water-bearer, pours
out his whole deluge and drowns us; and to wind up with Pisces, or the
Fishes, we sleep. There’s a sermon now, writ in high heaven, and the
sun goes through it every year, and yet comes out of it all alive and
hearty. Jollily he, aloft there, wheels through toil and trouble; and
so, alow here, does jolly Stubb. Oh, jolly’s the word for aye! Adieu,
Doubloon! But stop; here comes little King-Post; dodge round the
try-works, now, and let’s hear what he’ll have to say. There; he’s
before it; he’ll out with something presently. So, so; he’s beginning.”
- title
- Stubb's interpretation of the doubloon