Chapter 19 The Prophet
Abridged
Text, followed by Abridger Notes, followed by multimedia, followed by Original
Text with deletions.
Chapter 19 The Prophet
“Shipmates, have ye shipped in that ship?”
Queequeg and I had just left the Pequod, and were sauntering away from the water, for the moment each occupied with his own thoughts, when the above words were put to us by a stranger, who, pausing before us, levelled his massive fore-finger at the vessel in question. He was but shabbily apparelled in faded jacket and patched trowsers; a rag of a black handkerchief investing his neck. A confluent small-pox had in all directions flowed over his face, and left it like the complicated ribbed bed of a torrent, when the rushing waters have been dried up.
“Have ye shipped in her?” he repeated.
“Yes,” said I, “we have just signed the articles.”
“Anything down there about your souls?”
“About what?”
“Oh, perhaps you hav’n’t got any,” he said quickly. “No matter though, I know many chaps that hav’n’t got any,—good luck to ’em; and they are all the better off for it. A soul’s a sort of a fifth wheel to a wagon.”
“What are you jabbering about, shipmate?” said I.
“He’s got enough, though, to make up for all deficiencies of that sort in other chaps,” abruptly said the stranger, placing a nervous emphasis upon the word he.
“Queequeg,” said I, “let’s go; this fellow has broken loose from somewhere; he’s talking about something and somebody we don’t know.”
“Stop!” cried the stranger. “Ye said true—ye hav’n’t seen Old Thunder yet, have ye? Captain Ahab.”
“What! the captain of our ship, the Pequod?”
“What do you know about him?”
“What did they tell you about him? Say that!”
“They didn’t tell much of anything about him; only I’ve heard that he’s a good whale-hunter, and a good captain to his crew.”
“That’s true, that’s true—yes, both true enough. But you must jump when he gives an order. Step and growl; growl and go—that’s the word with Captain Ahab. But nothing about his losing his leg last voyage, according to the prophecy. But hows’ever, mayhap, ye’ve heard tell about the leg, and how he lost it; aye, ye have heard of that, I dare say. Oh yes, that every one knows a’most—I mean they know he’s only one leg; and that a parmacetti took the other off.”
“My friend,” said I, “it seems to me that you must be a little damaged in the head. But if you are speaking of Captain Ahab, of that ship there, the Pequod, then let me tell you, that I know all about the loss of his leg.”
With finger pointed and eye levelled at the Pequod, the beggar-like stranger stood a moment, as if in a troubled reverie; then starting a little, turned and said:—“Ye’ve shipped, have ye? Names down on the papers? Well, well, what’s signed, is signed; and what’s to be, will be; and then again, perhaps it wont be, after all. Any how, it’s all fixed and arranged a’ready; and some sailors or other must go with him, I suppose; as well these as any other men, God pity ’em! Morning to ye, shipmates, morning; the ineffable heavens bless ye; I’m sorry I stopped ye.”
“Morning it is,” said I. “Come along, Queequeg, let’s leave this crazy man. But stop, tell me your name, will you?”
“Elijah.”
Link to Chapter 20 All Astir.
Abridger Notes
Elijah follows Ishmael and Queequeg for a spell, paragraphs which I deleted, but they do reinforce the ambivalence that Ismael feels towards Elijah, oscillating between skeptical curiosity and outright dismissal.
Chapter 19 The Prophet -- what exactly is the prophecy, or is there one?
ChatGPT 4o: The prophecy in Chapter 19: The Prophet is not a straightforward or explicit prediction but rather a series of ominous hints, ambiguous warnings, and cryptic allusions delivered by the ragged sailor Elijah. His words, layered with foreboding and irony, suggest a grim fate for those aboard the Pequod, though he never outright declares what will happen.
Key Elements of the Prophecy
1. Fate and Predestination
o Elijah repeatedly questions Ishmael and Queequeg about whether they have "shipped in that ship," implying that their decision is irreversible.
o He cryptically remarks, “What’s signed, is signed; and what’s to be, will be; and then again, perhaps it won’t be, after all.” This plays with the idea of fate versus free will, though it heavily implies that disaster is inevitable.
2. Ahab's Ominous Nature
o He refers to Ahab as “Old Thunder”, emphasizing his tempestuous and dangerous nature.
o He claims that Ahab will never be “all right” again, linking the captain’s personal state to a broader sense of doom.
3. Hints About Ahab’s Past and the White Whale
o Elijah alludes to “that thing that happened to him off Cape Horn”, “the deadly skrimmage with the Spaniard”, and “the silver calabash”, which are mysterious references to Ahab’s violent and possibly supernatural encounters.
o The most significant mention is of Ahab losing his leg “according to the prophecy”, suggesting that Ahab was already warned about his fate and still pursued it.
4. Concern for the Crew’s Souls
o He provocatively asks Ishmael and Queequeg, “Anything down there about your souls?”, implying that their signing onto the ship might have deeper consequences than they realize.
o He remarks that some sailors “haven’t got any” souls and that “God pity ‘em”, suggesting a doomed voyage where divine intervention or judgment may play a role.
5. His Own Omission from the Voyage
o Elijah ends with a telling line: “Oh! when ye get there, tell ’em I’ve concluded not to make one of ‘em.” This reinforces that he knows something ominous about the voyage but deliberately avoids directly stating it.
The Role of Elijah as a Prophet
- The name Elijah itself is significant—Melville draws from the biblical prophet Elijah, who warned of divine wrath and catastrophe.
- Like a prophet, this Elijah speaks in riddles, warning Ishmael without fully revealing what he knows.
- His indirect approach leaves Ishmael uncertain whether he is a madman or a genuine oracle.
Conclusion: A Warning, Not a Direct Prophecy
Elijah does not provide a clear-cut prophecy but instead sows doubt and dread through insinuation. His cryptic manner reflects the novel’s broader themes of fate, obsession, and doom. While Ishmael dismisses him as a “humbug”, readers, with hindsight, recognize his words as an eerie foreshadowing of the Pequod’s tragic fate.
Multimedia Chapter 19 The Prophet
Original Chapter 19 The
Prophet with Deletions
“Shipmates, have ye shipped in that ship?”
Queequeg and I had just left the Pequod, and were sauntering away from the water, for the moment each occupied with his own thoughts, when the above words were put to us by a stranger, who, pausing before us, levelled his massive fore-finger at the vessel in question. He was but shabbily apparelled in faded jacket and patched trowsers; a rag of a black handkerchief investing his neck. A confluent small-pox had in all directions flowed over his face, and left it like the complicated ribbed bed of a torrent, when the rushing waters have been dried up.
“Have ye shipped in her?” he repeated.
“You mean the ship
Pequod, I suppose,” said I, trying to gain a little more time for an
uninterrupted look at him.
“Aye, the Pequod—that
ship there,” he said, drawing back his whole arm, and then rapidly shoving it
straight out from him, with the fixed bayonet of his pointed finger darted full
at the object.
“Yes,” said I, “we have just signed the articles.”
“Anything down there about your souls?”
“About what?”
“Oh, perhaps you hav’n’t got any,” he said quickly. “No matter though, I know many chaps that hav’n’t got any,—good luck to ’em; and they are all the better off for it. A soul’s a sort of a fifth wheel to a wagon.”
“What are you jabbering about, shipmate?” said I.
“He’s got enough, though, to make up for all deficiencies of that sort in other chaps,” abruptly said the stranger, placing a nervous emphasis upon the word he.
“Queequeg,” said I, “let’s go; this fellow has broken loose from somewhere; he’s talking about something and somebody we don’t know.”
“Stop!” cried the stranger. “Ye said true—ye hav’n’t seen Old Thunder yet, have ye?”
“Who’s Old Thunder?”
said I, again riveted with the insane earnestness of his manner.
“Captain Ahab.”
“What! the captain of our ship, the Pequod?”
“Aye, among some of us
old sailor chaps, he goes by that name. Ye hav’n’t seen him yet, have ye?”
“No, we hav’n’t.
He’s sick they say, but is getting better, and will be all right again before
long.”
“All right again before
long!” laughed the stranger, with a solemnly derisive sort of laugh. “Look ye;
when captain Ahab is all right, then this left arm of mine will be all right;
not before.”
“What do you know about him?”
“What did they tell you about him? Say that!”
“They didn’t tell much of anything about him; only I’ve heard that he’s a good whale-hunter, and a good captain to his crew.”
“That’s true, that’s
true—yes, both true enough. But you must jump when he gives an order. Step and
growl; growl and go—that’s the word with Captain Ahab. But nothing about
that thing that happened to him off Cape Horn, long ago, when he lay like dead
for three days and nights; nothing about that deadly skrimmage with the
Spaniard afore the altar in Santa?—heard nothing about that, eh? Nothing about
the silver calabash he spat into? And nothing about his losing his leg last
voyage, according to the prophecy. Didn’t ye hear a word about them matters
and something more, eh? No, I don’t think ye did; how could ye? Who
knows it? Not all Nantucket, I guess. But hows’ever, mayhap, ye’ve heard
tell about the leg, and how he lost it; aye, ye have heard of that, I dare say.
Oh yes, that every one knows a’most—I mean they know he’s only one leg; and
that a parmacetti took the other off.”
“My friend,” said I, “what
all this gibberish of yours is about, I don’t know, and I don’t much care; for
it seems to me that you must be a little damaged in the head. But if you are
speaking of Captain Ahab, of that ship there, the Pequod, then let me tell you,
that I know all about the loss of his leg.”
“All about it, eh—sure
you do?—all?”
“Pretty sure.”
With finger pointed and eye levelled at the Pequod, the beggar-like stranger stood a moment, as if in a troubled reverie; then starting a little, turned and said:—“Ye’ve shipped, have ye? Names down on the papers? Well, well, what’s signed, is signed; and what’s to be, will be; and then again, perhaps it wont be, after all. Any how, it’s all fixed and arranged a’ready; and some sailors or other must go with him, I suppose; as well these as any other men, God pity ’em! Morning to ye, shipmates, morning; the ineffable heavens bless ye; I’m sorry I stopped ye.”
“Look here, friend,”
said I, “if you have anything important to tell us, out with it; but if you are
only trying to bamboozle us, you are mistaken in your game; that’s all I have
to say.”
“And it’s said very
well, and I like to hear a chap talk up that way; you are just the man for
him—the likes of ye. Morning to ye, shipmates, morning! Oh! when ye get there,
tell ’em I’ve concluded not to make one of ’em.”
“Ah, my dear fellow,
you can’t fool us that way—you can’t fool us. It is the easiest thing in the
world for a man to look as if he had a great secret in him.” “Morning to ye,
shipmates, morning.”
“Morning it is,” said I. “Come along, Queequeg, let’s leave this crazy man. But stop, tell me your name, will you?”
“Elijah.”
Elijah! thought I, and
we walked away, both commenting, after each other’s fashion, upon this ragged
old sailor; and agreed that he was nothing but a humbug, trying to be a
bugbear. But we had not gone perhaps above a hundred yards, when chancing to
turn a corner, and looking back as I did so, who should be seen but Elijah
following us, though at a distance. Somehow, the sight of him struck me so,
that I said nothing to Queequeg of his being behind, but passed on with my
comrade, anxious to see whether the stranger would turn the same corner that we
did. He did; and then it seemed to me that he was dogging us, but with what
intent I could not for the life of me imagine. This circumstance, coupled with
his ambiguous, half-hinting, half-revealing, shrouded sort of talk, now begat
in me all kinds of vague wonderments and half-apprehensions, and all connected
with the Pequod; and Captain Ahab; and the leg he had lost; and the Cape Horn
fit; and the silver calabash; and what Captain Peleg had said of him, when I
left the ship the day previous; and the prediction of the squaw Tistig; and the
voyage we had bound ourselves to sail; and a hundred other shadowy things.
I was resolved to
satisfy myself whether this ragged Elijah was really dogging us or not, and
with that intent crossed the way with Queequeg, and on that side of it retraced
our steps. But Elijah passed on, without seeming to notice us. This relieved
me; and once more, and finally as it seemed to me, I pronounced him in my
heart, a humbug.
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