#mdlyrics

[mobydickmusical]

Dave Malloy – The Sermon

[MAPPLE] / God spoke to Jonah in his head / God spoke to Jonah in his head / Filled his heart with words of dread / And Jonah believed every word he said / God spoke to Jonah in

I’ve already posted the lyrics for all the songs that’ve been previewed thus far under #mdlyrics, but I’m going to eventually add them onto Genius, so I can annotate them a little better, so they’re a bit more readable, and because I get bored 

[mobydickmusical]

Moby Dick musical lyrics: The Pacific

- These are not official lyrics, they’re transcribed by me.

- Source novel quotes for the lyrics, and notes, are under the cut.

THE PACIFIC

Track: 21

Characters: Ishmael* (solo with backing vocals)

Range: D3-E4**

As heard on Dave Malloy’s SoundCloud 

[ISHMAEL]*

Three years at sea

The day becomes the night, the night becomes the day

The drowsy wind blows

And the tranced ship rolls

We vacantly gaze on the infinity of waves

And the cadence of our gaze becomes our thoughts among the waves

And no one grew into anything new

We just became the worse of what we were

No one grew into anything new

We just became the worse of what we were

Three years at sea

No news, no gazettes

No startling accounts of the common place

Deluding us into excitement

No bankrupt securities, no decisions on dinner

A sublime uneventfulness

And no one grew into anything new

We just became the worse of what we were

No one grew into anything new

We just became the worse of what we were

Joy and sorrow, hope and fear

Have been ground to finest dust

Powered in the clamped mortar of our captain’s iron soul

Beneath us lurk the many monsters of the sea

The horrors in the mirk wait for me

And I thought I could just dip my toes in

I didn’t think I would lose my soul in this silver asylum

But I let myself disappear

I let myself disappear

(No one grew into anything new

We just became the worst of what we were

No one grew…)

Oh, lull me to sleep

Oh, opiate, vacant waves

Oh, lull me to sleep

Oh, opiate, vacant waves

Oh, lull me to sleep

Oh, opiate, vacant waves

Oh, lull me to sleep

Oh, opiate, vacant waves

SOURCE QUOTES AND NOTES

This song has been previewed both on Dave’s SoundCloud, and performed by Shoba Narayan at her 54 Below show. **These obviously have different ranges, as well as just slightly different lyrics. For both, I’ve taken Dave for the authority on this. 

*I’m also not 100% certain this song is sung by Ishmael, but this uncertainty is mostly because of Shoba performing it while Ishmael is a baritenor. Just based on the song itself, I think it’d be a reasonable assumption Ishmael sings it.

Though the song is named after Ch 111 The Pacific, and the mood/imagery is somewhat similar to the chapter, the lyrics aren’t at all sourced from it. They mostly follow Ch 36 The Mast-Head, with a little bit of Ch 130 The Hat. Dave’s “no one grew [...] of what we were” refrain seems to be all his own. 

Ch 35 The Mast-Head

In the serene weather of the tropics it is exceedingly pleasant the mast-head; nay, to a dreamy meditative man it is delightful. There you stand, a hundred feet above the silent decks, striding along the deep, as if the masts were gigantic stilts, while beneath you and between your legs, as it were, swim the hugest monsters of the sea, [...] There you stand, lost in the infinite series of the sea, with nothing ruffled but the waves. The tranced ship indolently rolls; the drowsy trade winds blow; everything resolves you into languor. For the most part, in this tropic whaling life, a sublime uneventfulness invests you; you hear no news; read no gazettes; extras with startling accounts of commonplaces never delude you into unnecessary excitements; you hear of no domestic afflictions; bankrupt securities; fall of stocks; are never troubled with the thought of what you shall have for dinner—for all your meals for three years and more are snugly stowed in casks, and your bill of fare is immutable.

///

For nowadays, the whale-fishery furnishes an asylum for many romantic, melancholy, and absent-minded young men, disgusted with the carking cares of earth, and seeking sentiment in tar and blubber. 

///

But lulled into such an opium-like listlessness of vacant, unconscious reverie is this absent-minded youth by the blending cadence of waves with thoughts, that at last he loses his identity; takes the mystic ocean at his feet for the visible image of that deep, blue, bottomless soul, pervading mankind and nature; and every strange, half-seen, gliding, beautiful thing that eludes him; every dimly-discovered, uprising fin of some undiscernible form, seems to him the embodiment of those elusive thoughts that only people the soul by continually flitting through it. 

Ch 130 The Hat

Alike, joy and sorrow, hope and fear, seemed ground to finest dust, and powdered, for the time, in the clamped mortar of Ahab's iron soul.

[mobydickmusical]

Moby Dick musical lyrics: Dusk

- These are not official lyrics, they’re transcribed by me. 

- Source novel quotes for the lyrics, and notes, are under the cut.

DUSK

Track: 19

Characters: Starbuck (solo)

Range: A3-D5

As performed by Starr Busby/ Eisa Davis April 9 2018

Dusk

The Sun sinks away

Twilight’s last goodbye before the darkness

God, please light my way

Tell me how to get through this

Dusk

My soul is more than matched

She’s beaten blue and black

By a madman, he shouts and screams

He drilled deep down, blasted all my reason out of me

Terrible and cruel old man

Yet in his eyes I see a sadness

Shrivels me up, tears me in two

God, please help me help this man

I can’t leave him

Something has tied me to this man and I’ve no knife to cut the line

Something has tied me to this man and I’ve no knife to cut the line

Something has tied to this man

I hope

That the waters are wide enough

That the voids are vast enough

That he never, never finds what he is looking for

That he never, never finds what he is looking for

That he never, never finds what he is looking for

That he never, never finds what he is looking for

I hope

That God hides that whale like a goldfish

That God hides that whale like a goldfish

SOURCE QUOTES AND NOTES

The lyrics are for the mostly close to the novel (the chapter Dusk is written as a monologue for Starbuck), with some added phrases. 

The first verse with the description of the literal dusk and metaphorical tie-in isn’t from the book. It’s added to replicate the structure of Ahab’s solo earlier in the show, Sunset. 

The other main difference is honing in on, or adding, specific emotive language so we feel all the more pity for Starbuck’s situation. 

...I also feel like these kind of changes for this song will make more sense when we’ve heard how Dave portrays The Cabin, the previous song based on a chapter in which Starbuck confronts Ahab, ending in Ahab threatening Starbuck with a gun. Dusk in the book isn’t actually connected with this interaction at all (it happens long before it) so changing the lyrics to emotionally reflect that seems pretty reasonable just in itself. Then you add trying to create a specific emotional reception to that. 

Ch 38 Dusk

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 [...] 

[...]  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!

And other vaguely similar bits and pieces, potentially:

Ch 36 The Quarter-Deck

"God keep me! - keep us all!" murmured Starbuck, lowly.

Ch 51 The Spirit-Spout

Terrible old man! thought Starbuck with a shudder, sleeping in this gale, still thou steadfastly eyest thy purpose.

[mobydickmusical]

Moby Dick musical lyrics: Sunset

- These are not official lyrics, they’re transcribed by me. 

- Source novel quotes for the lyrics are under the cut.

SUNSET 

Track: 9

Character: Ahab (solo with backing vocals)

Range: A2-F4 (as performed by Dave Malloy Dec 8 2018)

Sunset

The warm waves blush like wine

The blue, the gold

The sun goes down and my soul mounts up

My pipe

What business have I with this pipe?

Mild white vapors for mild white hair

Not torn gray locks like mine

Time was, when the sunset soothed

Time was, when my pipe’s smoke charmed

No more

This lovely light

It lights not me

Loveliness is anguish

I am damned in the midst of paradise

This crown I wear made of iron not gold, is so heavy

Its jagged edge, it beats against my brain

But the men I lead, their souls are sold, they’re ready

To burn and bleed and hunt until you’re slain

You knocked me down

Then you ran and hid

Ahab’s compliments to you

But now Ahab’s up again

My soul is grooved to run on iron rails

I will rush through hearts of mountains

Over gorges, under raging riverbeds

Now, see if he can swerve me

My soul is grooved to run on iron rails

I will rush through hearts of mountains

Over gorges, under raging riverbeds

Now, see if he can swerve me

As the sun goes down

I will throw my pipe into the sea

Now, see if you can swerve me

This lovely light

It lights not me

Loveliness is anguish

I am damned in the midst of paradise

SOURCE QUOTES

Ch 30 The Pipe

"How now," he soliloquized at last, withdrawing the tube, "this smoking no longer soothes. Oh, my pipe! hard must it go with me if thy charm be gone! Here have I been unconsciously toiling, not pleasuring,—aye, and ignorantly smoking to windward all the while; to windward, and with such nervous whiffs, as if, like the dying whale, my final jets were the strongest and fullest of trouble. What business have I with this pipe? This thing that is meant for sereneness, to send up mild white vapors among mild white hairs, not among torn iron-grey locks like mine. I'll smoke no more—"

He tossed the still lighted pipe into the sea.

Ch 37 Sunset

Yonder, by the ever-brimming goblet's rim, the warm waves blush like wine. The gold brow plumbs the blue. The diver sun—slow dived from noon,—goes down; my soul mounts up! she wearies with her endless hill. Is, then, the crown too heavy that I wear? this Iron Crown of Lombardy. Yet is it bright with many a gem; I, the wearer, see not its far flashings; but darkly feel that I wear that, that dazzlingly confounds. 'Tis iron—that I know—not gold. 'Tis split, too—that I feel; the jagged edge galls me so, my brain seems to beat against the solid metal; aye, steel skull, mine; the sort that needs no helmet in the most brain- battering fight!

Dry heat upon my brow? Oh! time was, when as the sunrise nobly spurred me, so the sunset soothed. No more. This lovely light, it lights not me; all loveliness is anguish to me, since I can ne'er enjoy. Gifted with the high perception, I lack the low, enjoying power; damned, most subtly and most malignantly! damned in the midst of Paradise!

///

No, ye've knocked me down, and I am up again; but ye have run and hidden. Come forth from behind your cotton bags! I have no long gun to reach ye. Come, Ahab's compliments to ye; come and see if ye can swerve me. Swerve me? ye cannot swerve me, else ye swerve yourselves! man has ye there. Swerve me? The path to my fixed purpose is laid with iron rails, whereon my soul is grooved to run. Over unsounded gorges, through the rifled hearts of mountains, under torrents' beds, unerringly I rush! Naught's an obstacle, naught's an angle to the iron way!

[mobydickmusical]

Moby Dick musical lyrics: Cetology

- These are not official lyrics, they’re transcribed by me. 

- Source novel quotes for the lyrics are under the cut.

CETOLOGY

Track: 10 

Character: Ishmael (solo)

Range: G#2-G4 (as performed by Dave Malloy April 9 2018)

Already we have boldly launched upon the deep

And soon we shall be lost

In its harbourless, unshored immensity  

So ere that come to pass

Let us get into the famous, long and boring

Whaling chapters!

I shall start

By classifying all the whales

But this is a ponderous task

And I shall not pretend to be exhaustive

For who am I

That I should try to hook leviathan’s nose?

Who am I?

Though I have sailed and swam through vast oceans and libraries

Still I'm sometimes dumb about things outside my mind

Everything I read might be wrong

Sometimes libraries lie

Though I'd never mean to steer you wrong

I just might be unreliable

I am on my own

It's my me and my white bread head

And the ocean is too deep for me to fathom

And life is just too big for me to bear

But who am I to compare my despair with the shaking of the sea?

Who am I to give to voices I could never be?

But I will try

So here we go:

A whale is a spouting fish with a horizontal tail

There, you have him!

And you may classify him thus:

Finback whale, Humpback whale

Razor-back whale, Black fish whale

Sperm whale, Right whale

Sulphur-bottom whale and Blue whale

Grampus whale, Thrasher whale

Elephant whale, Iceberg whale

Cape whale, Narwhale

Pudding-headed whale and Junk whale

Cannon whale, Leading whale

Bottle-nosed whale, Coppered whale

Scragg whale, Quog whale

Killer whale and of course white whale

And porpoises, porpoises

Huzza, Algerine, Mealy-mouthed porpoises

Yes, porpoises are whales too, ooh...

But these are just some words classified

In a guidebook on a dusty shelf

Who knows what they feel inside?

Who knows what they name themselves?

And there's other ones that I don't know

There's so much that I don't know

For who am I?

Sometimes I wish these whales could swim

In an ocean that's free of men like me

Their deep aquatic paradise

Devoid of slack-jawed hunters

And the poison of our wake

Cause men like me try anything

And most everything we try

Turns out to be some big mistake

Like this could be an amazing song

Tying each type of whale to bigger themes

Like God, determinism, ecology and capitalism

Race, monomaniacism, or America!

But it was stated at the outset that this system

Would not be here perfected

And you cannot but plainly see I’ve kept my word

For who am I?

Oh god, keep me from ever completing anything...!

SOURCE QUOTES

These are all just from the title chapter, since this song essentially takes a very succinct slice of it, then adds in sections of Dave’s further thoughts to leave us with some more modern and more in-your-face message-telling. 

Ch 32 Cetology

Already we are boldly launched upon the deep; but soon we shall be lost in its unshored, harborless immensities. Ere that come to pass; ere the Pequod's weedy hull rolls side by side with the barnacled hulls of the Leviathan; at the outset it is but well to attend to a matter almost indispensable to a thorough appreciative understanding of the more special leviathanic revelations and allusions of all sorts which are to follow.

It is some systematized exhibition of the whale in his broad genera, that I would now fain put before you. Yet is it no easy task. The classification of the constituents of a chaos, nothing less is here essayed. Listen to what the best and latest authorities have laid down.

///

[...] As no better man advances to take this matter in hand, I hereupon offer my own poor endeavors. I promise nothing complete; because any human thing supposed to be complete, must for that very reason infallibly be faulty. I shall not pretend to a minute anatomical description of the various species, or—in this place at least—to much of any description. My object here is simply to project the draught of a systematization of cetology. I am the architect, not the builder.

But it is a ponderous task; no ordinary letter-sorter in the Post-office is equal to it. To grope down into the bottom of the sea after them; to have one's hands among the unspeakable foundations, ribs, and very pelvis of the world; this is a fearful thing. What am I that I should essay to hook the nose of this Leviathan! The awful tauntings in Job might well appal me. "Will he (the Leviathan) make a covenant with thee? Behold the hope of him is vain!" But I have swam through libraries and sailed through oceans; I have had to do with whales with these visible hands; I am in earnest; and I will try.

///

Next: how shall we define the whale, by his obvious externals, so as conspicuously to label him for all time to come? To be short, then, a whale is a spouting fish with a horizontal tail. There you have him.

///

[...] These include the smaller whales.—I., The Huzza Porpoise; II., The Algerine Porpoise; III., The Mealy-mouthed Porpoise.

To those who have not chanced specially to study the subject, it may possibly seem strange, that fishes not commonly exceeding four or five feet should be marshalled among WHALES—a word, which, in the popular sense, always conveys an idea of hugeness. But the creatures set down above as Duodecimoes are infallibly whales, by the terms of my definition of what a whale is—i.e. a spouting fish, with a horizontal tail.

///

But there are a rabble of uncertain, fugitive, half-fabulous whales, which, as an American whaleman, I know by reputation, but not personally. I shall enumerate them by their forecastle appellations; for possibly such a list may be valuable to future investigators, who may complete what I have here but begun. If any of the following whales, shall hereafter be caught and marked, then he can readily be incorporated into this System, according to his Folio, Octavo, or Duodecimo magnitude:—The Bottle-Nose Whale; the Junk Whale; the Pudding-Headed Whale; the Cape Whale; the Leading Whale; the Cannon Whale; the Scragg Whale; the Coppered Whale; the Elephant Whale; the Iceberg Whale; the Quog Whale; the Blue Whale; etc.

///

Finally: It was stated at the outset, that this system would not be here, and at once, perfected. You cannot but plainly see that I have kept my word. But I now leave my cetological System standing thus unfinished, even as the great Cathedral of Cologne was left, with the crane still standing upon the top of the uncompleted tower. For small erections may be finished by their first architects; grand ones, true ones, ever leave the copestone to posterity. God keep me from ever completing anything. [...]

[mobydickmusical]

Moby Dick musical lyrics: A Squeeze Of The Hand

- These are not official lyrics, they’re transcribed by me.

- The song includes 7 solos, for unknown characters as of yet. For the moment, I’ve numbered them. 

- Source novel quotes for the lyrics, and notes, are under the cut.

A SQUEEZE OF THE HAND

Track: 15

Characters: Ishmael, soloists 1-7, and cast (crew of the Pequod)

As performed by the cast of Great Comet on Sep 2 2017

[ISHMAEL]

The sky is pure blue

And the sea serene and dreamy

[CREW]

Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze

Oh, all the morning long

[ISHMAEL]

And we squeeze out all the lumps

‘Til the oil’s smooth and creamy

[CREW]

Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze

Oh, sing our brotherly song

[1]

Feel the sperm in your hands

Feel the colors shift and shape

[CREW]

Oh, squeeze, squeeze, squeeze

Oh, all the morning long

[2]

Squeeze the soft gentle globules

‘Til they break like grapes

[CREW]

Oh, squeeze, squeeze, squeeze

Oh, sing our brotherly song

[3]

I squeezed that sperm ‘til I almost melted in it

I squeezed that sperm ‘til I became insane

[4]

Such a sweet, sweet cleanse

Mollifying and delicious

[CREW]

Oh, squeeze, squeeze, squeeze

Oh, all the morning long

[5]

As we bathe in that soap

Soft and rich and repetitious

[CREW]

Oh, squeeze, squeeze, squeeze

Oh, sing our brotherly song

[6]

And the vapors smell like wine

Or like violets in a field

[CREW]

Oh, squeeze, squeeze, squeeze

Oh, all the morning long

[7]

And when I saw my shipmates’ eyes

I was saved, I was healed

[CREW]

Oh, squeeze, squeeze, squeeze

Oh, sing our brotherly song

I squeezed that sperm ‘til I almost melted in it

I squeezed that sperm ‘til I became insane

[ISHMAEL]

Squeezing that sperm turned off my brain

My fingers felt like eels as they serpentined and spiralized

And soon I was squeezing the hands of my comrades too

Ooh…

[CREW]

Such an abounding, affectionate

Friendly, loving, sentimental feeling

Let us squeeze all day

Let us squeeze forever

Ooh… 

[ISHMAEL]

I wish we all could be more open

Wish we all could be more true

[CREW]

Oh, squeeze, squeeze, squeeze

Oh, all the morning long

[ISHMAEL + 7]

With a squeeze of the hand

I could melt into you

[CREW]

Oh, squeeze, squeeze, squeeze

Oh, sing our brotherly song

[THE CREW, in 3-part canon]

With a squeeze of the hand I could melt into you (x3)

[CREW]

I could melt into you

SOURCE QUOTES AND NOTES

This song’s preview was by Comet cast, rather than a workshop cast, meaning that besides Dave as Ishmael, the characters of the other soloists are unclear. There’s no indication in the lyrics because the text is originally Ishmael’s thoughts. The only thing I could really count as indicating character is solo 7 singing with Ishmael, since presumably that’s most likely to be Queequeg? But honestly I’m not sure so I’ll add the solos’s characters later.

The song was also performed acapella, unlike the rest of the songs previewed so far. I’d say this will likely be the same for the actual show. 

The lyrics are based on the first half of the chapter of the same name, all linked pretty directly, with some simplifications.They come from all throughout the section, which is reasonably short, so I’ve included almost the whole thing below. 

Ch 94 A Squeeze Of A Hand 

[...] It had cooled and crystallized to such a degree, that when, with several others, I sat down before a large Constantine's bath of it, I found it strangely concreted into lumps, here and there rolling about in the liquid part. It was our business to squeeze these lumps back into fluid. A sweet and unctuous duty! no wonder that in old times this sperm was such a favorite cosmetic. Such a clearer! such a sweetener! such a softener! such a delicious mollifier! After having my hands in it for only a few minutes, my fingers felt like eels, and began, as it were, to serpentine and spiralize.

As I sat there at my ease, cross-legged on the deck; after the bitter exertion at the windlass; under a blue tranquil sky; the ship under indolent sail, and gliding so serenely along; as I bathed my hands among those soft, gentle globules of infiltrated tissues, woven almost within the hour; as they richly broke to my fingers, and discharged all their opulence, like fully ripe grapes their wine; as I snuffed up that uncontaminated aroma,—literally and truly, like the smell of spring violets; I declare to you, that for the time I lived as in a musky meadow; I forgot all about our horrible oath; in that inexpressible sperm, I washed my hands and my heart of it; I almost began to credit the old Paracelsan superstition that sperm is of rare virtue in allaying the heat of anger: while bathing in that bath, I felt divinely free from all ill-will, or petulence, or malice, of any sort whatsoever.

Squeeze! squeeze! squeeze! all the morning long; I squeezed that sperm till I myself almost melted into it; I squeezed that sperm till a strange sort of insanity came over me; and I found myself unwittingly squeezing my co-laborers' hands in it, mistaking their hands for the gentle globules. Such an abounding, affectionate, friendly, loving feeling did this avocation beget; that at last I was continually squeezing their hands, and looking up into their eyes sentimentally; as much as to say,—Oh! my dear fellow beings, why should we longer cherish any social acerbities, or know the slightest ill-humor or envy! Come; let us squeeze hands all round; nay, let us all squeeze ourselves into each other; let us squeeze ourselves universally into the very milk and sperm of kindness.

Would that I could keep squeezing that sperm for ever! [...]

[mobydickmusical]

Moby Dick musical lyrics: The Whale As A Dish

- These are not official lyrics, they’re transcribed by me. 

- There are asterisks where there should be another line of lyrics but Dave forgot the words 

- Source novel quotes for the lyrics are under the cut.

THE WHALE AS A DISH

Track: 10

Character: Ishmael (solo)

Range: A2-G4 (as performed by Dave Malloy August 27 2017)

The whale as a dish

Not the most popular dish

It’s too big and too fat and too weird and too exceedingly rich

To be considered good by most

But five centuries ago

Whale tongue

Was an esteemed great delicacy in France

And King Henry the Eighth

Was known to be quite partial to barbecued porpoise

And I heard of an Inuit doctor

His name is Zogranda

Who recommends that infants suck on the blubber

“Incredibly nourishing and juicy” he says

******

Whale scraps

Would of course be fried into fritters, brown and crisp

And of the course the old monks of Dunfermline

Have a special recipe for broiled beluga

In which the meat is made in balls

About the size of billiard balls

Seasoned and spiced

And placed in an admirable sauce

But still

The whale as a dish

Not the most popular dish

It’s too big and too fat and too weird and too exceedingly rich

To be considered good by most

Oh, and then there’s the brain

Accounted a fine dish when prepared with great craft and skill

The casket of the skull is broken in two with an axe

And the two plump whitish lobes look just like two large ripe puddings

You can mix them up with flour and cook them up

Into a most delectable mess

Just don’t eat them too often

Because a diet of whale brains

Has been known to make a man think like a whale

And that’s why

The whale as a dish

Not the most popular dish

It’s too big and too fat and too weird and too exceedingly rich

To be considered…

Maybe whale would be a noble dish

If he weren’t so colossal a fright

But a hundred-foot-long meat pie

Tends to take away...

Your appetite!

SOURCE QUOTES

This song’s lyrics are pretty straight-forward, all closely resembling the title chapter. 

(Little note however that “three centuries” in the book has been changed to “five centuries”, presumably a small instance of the show mixing it up between the book’s context and the modern context)

Ch 65 The Whale As A Dish

It is upon record, that three centuries ago the tongue of the Right Whale was esteemed a great delicacy in France, and commanded large prices there. Also, that in Henry VIIIth's time, a certain cook of the court obtained a handsome reward for inventing an admirable sauce to be eaten with barbacued porpoises, which, you remember, are a species of whale. Porpoises, indeed, are to this day considered fine eating. The meat is made into balls about the size of billiard balls, and being well seasoned and spiced might be taken for turtle-balls or veal balls. The old monks of Dunfermline were very fond of them. They had a great porpoise grant from the crown.

The fact is, that among his hunters at least, the whale would by all hands be considered a noble dish, were there not so much of him; but when you come to sit down before a meat-pie nearly one hundred feet long, it takes away your appetite. 

///

[...] the Esquimaux are not so fastidious. We all know how they live upon whales, and have rare old vintages of prime old train oil. Zogranda, one of their most famous doctors, recommends strips of blubber for infants, as being exceedingly juicy and nourishing. And this reminds me that certain Englishmen, who long ago were accidentally left in Greenland by a whaling vessel—that these men actually lived for several months on the mouldy scraps of whales which had been left ashore after trying out the blubber. Among the Dutch whalemen these scraps are called "fritters;" which, indeed, they greatly resemble, being brown and crisp [...]

///

But what further depreciates the whale as a civilized dish, is his exceeding richness. He is the great prize ox of the sea, too fat to be delicately good. Look at his hump, which would be as fine eating as the buffalo's (which is esteemed a rare dish), were it not such a solid pyramid of fat. But the spermaceti itself, how bland and creamy that is; like the transparent, half-jellied, white meat of a cocoanut in the third month of its growth, yet far too rich to supply a substitute for butter. [...]

///

In the case of a small Sperm Whale the brains are accounted a fine dish. The casket of the skull is broken into with an axe, and the two plump, whitish lobes being withdrawn (precisely resembling two large puddings), they are then mixed with flour, and cooked into a most delectable mess [...]