Chapter 17

by Herman Melville

　　TOWARDS THE END OF WHICH THE HERB-DOCTOR PROVES HIMSELF A FORGIVER OFINJURIES.In a kind of ante-cabin, a number of respectable looking people, maleand female, way-passengers, recently come on board, are listlesslysitting in a mutually shy sort of silence.Holding up a small, square bottle, ovally labeled with the engraving ofa countenance full of soft pity as that of the Romish-painted Madonna,the herb-doctor passes slowly among them, benignly urbane, turning thisway and that, saying:--"Ladies and gentlemen, I hold in my hand here the Samaritan PainDissuader, thrice-blessed discovery of that disinterested friend ofhumanity whose portrait you see. Pure vegetable extract. Warranted toremove the acutest pain within less than ten minutes. Five hundreddollars to be forfeited on failure. Especially efficacious in heartdisease and tic-douloureux. Observe the expression of this pledgedfriend of humanity.--Price only fifty cents."In vain. After the first idle stare, his auditors--in pretty goodhealth, it seemed--instead of encouraging his politeness, appeared, ifanything, impatient of it; and, perhaps, only diffidence, or some smallregard for his feelings, prevented them from telling him so. But,insensible to their coldness, or charitably overlooking it, he morewooingly than ever resumed: "May I venture upon a small supposition?Have I your kind leave, ladies and gentlemen?"To which modest appeal, no one had the kindness to answer a syllable."Well," said he, resignedly, "silence is at least not denial, and may beconsent. My supposition is this: possibly some lady, here present, has adear friend at home, a bed-ridden sufferer from spinal complaint. If so,what gift more appropriate to that sufferer than this tasteful littlebottle of Pain Dissuader?"Again he glanced about him, but met much the same reception as before.Those faces, alien alike to sympathy or surprise, seemed patiently tosay, "We are travelers; and, as such, must expect to meet, and quietlyput up with, many antic fools, and more antic quacks.""Ladies and gentlemen," (deferentially fixing his eyes upon their nowself-complacent faces) "ladies and gentlemen, might I, by your kindleave, venture upon one other small supposition? It is this: that thereis scarce a sufferer, this noonday, writhing on his bed, but in his hourhe sat satisfactorily healthy and happy; that the Samaritan PainDissuader is the one only balm for that to which each livingcreature--who knows?--may be a draughted victim, present or prospective.In short:--Oh, Happiness on my right hand, and oh, Security on my left,can ye wisely adore a Providence, and not think it wisdom toprovide?--Provide!" (Uplifting the bottle.)What immediate effect, if any, this appeal might have had, is uncertain.For just then the boat touched at a houseless landing, scooped, as by aland-slide, out of sombre forests; back through which led a road, thesole one, which, from its narrowness, and its being walled up with storyon story of dusk, matted foliage, presented the vista of some cavernousold gorge in a city, like haunted Cock Lane in London. Issuing from thatroad, and crossing that landing, there stooped his shaggy form in thedoor-way, and entered the ante-cabin, with a step so burdensome thatshot seemed in his pockets, a kind of invalid Titan in homespun; hisbeard blackly pendant, like the Carolina-moss, and dank with cypressdew; his countenance tawny and shadowy as an iron-ore country in aclouded day. In one hand he carried a heavy walking-stick of swamp-oak;with the other, led a puny girl, walking in moccasins, not improbablyhis child, but evidently of alien maternity, perhaps Creole, or evenCamanche. Her eye would have been large for a woman, and was inky as thepools of falls among mountain-pines. An Indian blanket, orange-hued, andfringed with lead tassel-work, appeared that morning to have shieldedthe child from heavy showers. Her limbs were tremulous; she seemed alittle Cassandra, in nervousness.No sooner was the pair spied by the herb-doctor, than with a cheerfulair, both arms extended like a host's, he advanced, and taking thechild's reluctant hand, said, trippingly: "On your travels, ah, mylittle May Queen? Glad to see you. What pretty moccasins. Nice to dancein." Then with a half caper sang-- "'Hey diddle, diddle, the cat and the fiddle; The cow jumped over the moon.' Come, chirrup, chirrup, my little robin!"Which playful welcome drew no responsive playfulness from the child, norappeared to gladden or conciliate the father; but rather, if anything,to dash the dead weight of his heavy-hearted expression with a smilehypochondriacally scornful.Sobering down now, the herb-doctor addressed the stranger in a manly,business-like way--a transition which, though it might seem a littleabrupt, did not appear constrained, and, indeed, served to show that hisrecent levity was less the habit of a frivolous nature, than the froliccondescension of a kindly heart."Excuse me," said he, "but, if I err not, I was speaking to you theother day;--on a Kentucky boat, wasn't it?""Never to me," was the reply; the voice deep and lonesome enough to havecome from the bottom of an abandoned coal-shaft."Ah!--But am I again mistaken, (his eye falling on the swamp-oak stick,)or don't you go a little lame, sir?""Never was lame in my life.""Indeed? I fancied I had perceived not a limp, but a hitch, a slighthitch;--some experience in these things--divined some hidden cause ofthe hitch--buried bullet, may be--some dragoons in the Mexican wardischarged with such, you know.--Hard fate!" he sighed, "little pity forit, for who sees it?--have you dropped anything?"Why, there is no telling, but the stranger was bowed over, and mighthave seemed bowing for the purpose of picking up something, were it notthat, as arrested in the imperfect posture, he for the moment soremained; slanting his tall stature like a mainmast yielding to thegale, or Adam to the thunder.The little child pulled him. With a kind of a surge he righted himself,for an instant looked toward the herb-doctor; but, either from emotionor aversion, or both together, withdrew his eyes, saying nothing.Presently, still stooping, he seated himself, drawing his child betweenhis knees, his massy hands tremulous, and still averting his face, whileup into the compassionate one of the herb-doctor the child turned afixed, melancholy glance of repugnance.The herb-doctor stood observant a moment, then said:"Surely you have pain, strong pain, somewhere; in strong frames pain isstrongest. Try, now, my specific," (holding it up). "Do but look at theexpression of this friend of humanity. Trust me, certain cure for anypain in the world. Won't you look?""No," choked the other."Very good. Merry time to you, little May Queen."And so, as if he would intrude his cure upon no one, moved pleasantlyoff, again crying his wares, nor now at last without result. Anew-comer, not from the shore, but another part of the boat, a sicklyyoung man, after some questions, purchased a bottle. Upon this, othersof the company began a little to wake up as it were; the scales ofindifference or prejudice fell from their eyes; now, at last, theyseemed to have an inkling that here was something not undesirable whichmight be had for the buying.But while, ten times more briskly bland than ever, the herb-doctor wasdriving his benevolent trade, accompanying each sale with added praisesof the thing traded, all at once the dusk giant, seated at somedistance, unexpectedly raised his voice with--"What was that you last said?"The question was put distinctly, yet resonantly, as when a greatclock-bell--stunning admonisher--strikes one; and the stroke, thoughsingle, comes bedded in the belfry clamor.All proceedings were suspended. Hands held forth for the specific werewithdrawn, while every eye turned towards the direction whence thequestion came. But, no way abashed, the herb-doctor, elevating his voicewith even more than wonted self-possession, replied--"I was saying what, since you wish it, I cheerfully repeat, that theSamaritan Pain Dissuader, which I here hold in my hand, will either cureor ease any pain you please, within ten minutes after its application.""Does it produce insensibility?""By no means. Not the least of its merits is, that it is not an opiate.It kills pain without killing feeling.""You lie! Some pains cannot be eased but by producing insensibility, andcannot be cured but by producing death."Beyond this the dusk giant said nothing; neither, for impairing theother's market, did there appear much need to. After eying the rudespeaker a moment with an expression of mingled admiration andconsternation, the company silently exchanged glances of mutual sympathyunder unwelcome conviction. Those who had purchased looked sheepish orashamed; and a cynical-looking little man, with a thin flaggy beard, anda countenance ever wearing the rudiments of a grin, seated alone in acorner commanding a good view of the scene, held a rusty hat before hisface.But, again, the herb-doctor, without noticing the retort, overbearingthough it was, began his panegyrics anew, and in a tone more assuredthan before, going so far now as to say that his specific was sometimesalmost as effective in cases of mental suffering as in cases ofphysical; or rather, to be more precise, in cases when, throughsympathy, the two sorts of pain coperated into a climax of both--insuch cases, he said, the specific had done very well. He cited anexample: Only three bottles, faithfully taken, cured a Louisiana widow(for three weeks sleepless in a darkened chamber) of neuralgic sorrowfor the loss of husband and child, swept off in one night by the lastepidemic. For the truth of this, a printed voucher was produced, dulysigned.While he was reading it aloud, a sudden side-blow all but felled him.It was the giant, who, with a countenance lividly epileptic withhypochondriac mania, exclaimed--"Profane fiddler on heart-strings! Snake!"More he would have added, but, convulsed, could not; so, without anotherword, taking up the child, who had followed him, went with a rockingpace out of the cabin."Regardless of decency, and lost to humanity!" exclaimed theherb-doctor, with much ado recovering himself. Then, after a pause,during which he examined his bruise, not omitting to apply externally alittle of his specific, and with some success, as it would seem, plainedto himself:"No, no, I won't seek redress; innocence is my redress. But," turningupon them all, "if that man's wrathful blow provokes me to no wrath,should his evil distrust arouse you to distrust? I do devoutly hope,"proudly raising voice and arm, "for the honor of humanity--hope that,despite this coward assault, the Samaritan Pain Dissuader standsunshaken in the confidence of all who hear me!"But, injured as he was, and patient under it, too, somehow his caseexcited as little compassion as his oratory now did enthusiasm. Still,pathetic to the last, he continued his appeals, notwithstanding thefrigid regard of the company, till, suddenly interrupting himself, asif in reply to a quick summons from without, he said hurriedly, "I come,I come," and so, with every token of precipitate dispatch, out of thecabin the herb-doctor went.