the works of edgar allan poe-2-第29部分

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worldly　advantages　accruing　from　my　sin。　But　there　arrived　at　length
an　epoch；　from　which　the　pleasurable　feeling　grew；　by　scarcely
perceptible　gradations；　into　a　haunting　and　harassing　thought。　It
harassed　because　it　haunted。　I　could　scarcely　get　rid　of　it　for　an
instant。　It　is　quite　a　common　thing　to　be　thus　annoyed　with　the
ringing　in　our　ears；　or　rather　in　our　memories；　of　the　burthen　of
some　ordinary　song；　or　some　unimpressive　snatches　from　an　opera。　Nor
will　we　be　the　less　tormented　if　the　song　in　itself　be　good；　or　the
opera　air　meritorious。　In　this　manner；　at　last；　I　would　perpetually
catch　myself　pondering　upon　my　security；　and　repeating；　in　a　low
undertone；　the　phrase；　〃I　am　safe。〃

One　day；　whilst　sauntering　along　the　streets；　I　arrested　myself　in
the　act　of　murmuring；　half　aloud；　these　customary　syllables。　In　a　fit
of　petulance；　I　remodelled　them　thus；　〃I　am　safe　　I　am　safe　　yes
　if　I　be　not　fool　enough　to　make　open　confession！〃

No　sooner　had　I　spoken　these　words；　than　I　felt　an　icy　chill　creep　to
my　heart。　I　had　had　some　experience　in　these　fits　of　perversity；
（whose　nature　I　have　been　at　some　trouble　to　explain）；　and　I
remembered　well　that　in　no　instance　I　had　successfully　resisted　their
attacks。　And　now　my　own　casual　self…suggestion　that　I　might　possibly
be　fool　enough　to　confess　the　murder　of　which　I　had　been　guilty；
confronted　me；　as　if　the　very　ghost　of　him　whom　I　had　murdered　　and
beckoned　me　on　to　death。

At　first；　I　made　an　effort　to　shake　off　this　nightmare　of　the　soul。　I
walked　vigorously　　faster　　still　faster　　at　length　I　ran。　I
felt　a　maddening　desire　to　shriek　aloud。　Every　succeeding　wave　of
thought　overwhelmed　me　with　new　terror；　for；　alas！　I　well；　too　well
understood　that　to　think；　in　my　situation；　was　to　be　lost。　I　still
quickened　my　pace。　I　bounded　like　a　madman　through　the　crowded
thoroughfares。　At　length；　the　populace　took　the　alarm；　and　pursued
me。　I　felt　then　the　consummation　of　my　fate。　Could　I　have　torn　out　my
tongue；　I　would　have　done　it；　but　a　rough　voice　resounded　in　my　ears
　a　rougher　grasp　seized　me　by　the　shoulder。　I　turned　　I　gasped
for　breath。　For　a　moment　I　experienced　all　the　pangs　of　suffocation；
I　became　blind；　and　deaf；　and　giddy；　and　then　some　invisible　fiend；　I
thought；　struck　me　with　his　broad　palm　upon　the　back。　The　long
imprisoned　secret　burst　forth　from　my　soul。

They　say　that　I　spoke　with　a　distinct　enunciation；　but　with　marked
emphasis　and　passionate　hurry；　as　if　in　dread　of　interruption　before
concluding　the　brief；　but　pregnant　sentences　that　consigned　me　to　the
hangman　and　to　hell。

Having　related　all　that　was　necessary　for　the　fullest　judicial
conviction；　I　fell　prostrate　in　a　swoon。

But　why　shall　I　say　more？　To…day　I　wear　these　chains；　and　am　here！
To…morrow　I　shall　be　fetterless！　　but　where？

~~~　End　of　Text　~~~



THE　ISLAND　OF　THE　FAY

Nullus　enim　locus　sine　genio　est。　　_Servius_。

〃LA　MUSIQUE；〃　says　Marmontel；　in　those　〃Contes　Moraux〃　｛*1｝　which　in
all　our　translations；　we　have　insisted　upon　calling　〃Moral　Tales；〃　as
if　in　mockery　of　their　spirit　　〃la　musique　est　le　seul　des　talents
qui　jouissent　de　lui…meme；　tous　les　autres　veulent　des　temoins。〃　He
here　confounds　the　pleasure　derivable　from　sweet　sounds　with　the
capacity　for　creating　them。　No　more　than　any　other　talent；　is　that
for　music　susceptible　of　complete　enjoyment；　where　there　is　no　second
party　to　appreciate　its　exercise。　And　it　is　only　in　common　with　other
talents　that　it　produces　effects　which　may　be　fully　enjoyed　in
solitude。　The　idea　which　the　raconteur　has　either　failed　to　entertain
clearly；　or　has　sacrificed　in　its　expression　to　his　national　love　of
point；　is；　doubtless；　the　very　tenable　one　that　the　higher　order　of
music　is　the　most　thoroughly　estimated　when　we　are　exclusively　alone。
The　proposition；　in　this　form；　will　be　admitted　at　once　by　those　who
love　the　lyre　for　its　own　sake；　and　for　its　spiritual　uses。　But　there
is　one　pleasure　still　within　the　reach　of　fallen　mortality　and
perhaps　only　one　　which　owes　even　more　than　does　music　to　the
accessory　sentiment　of　seclusion。　I　mean　the　happiness　experienced　in
the　contemplation　of　natural　scenery。　In　truth；　the　man　who　would
behold　aright　the　glory　of　God　upon　earth　must　in　solitude　behold
that　glory。　To　me；　at　least；　the　presence　　not　of　human　life　only；
but　of　life　in　any　other　form　than　that　of　the　green　things　which
grow　upon　the　soil　and　are　voiceless　　is　a　stain　upon　the　landscape
　is　at　war　with　the　genius　of　the　scene。　I　love；　indeed；　to　regard
the　dark　valleys；　and　the　gray　rocks；　and　the　waters　that　silently
smile；　and　the　forests　that　sigh　in　uneasy　slumbers；　and　the　proud
watchful　mountains　that　look　down　upon　all；　　I　love　to　regard　these
as　themselves　but　the　colossal　members　of　one　vast　animate　and
sentient　whole　　a　whole　whose　form　（that　of　the　sphere）　is　the　most
perfect　and　most　inclusive　of　all；　whose　path　is　among　associate
planets；　whose　meek　handmaiden　is　the　moon；　whose　mediate　sovereign
is　the　sun；　whose　life　is　eternity；　whose　thought　is　that　of　a　God；
whose　enjoyment　is　knowledge；　whose　destinies　are　lost　in　immensity；
whose　cognizance　of　ourselves　is　akin　with　our　own　cognizance　of　the
animalculae　which　infest　the　brain　　a　being　which　we；　in
consequence；　regard　as　purely　inanimate　and　material　much　in　the　same
manner　as　these　animalculae　must　thus　regard　us。

Our　telescopes　and　our　mathematical　investigations　assure　us　on　every
hand　　notwithstanding　the　cant　of　the　more　ignorant　of　the
priesthood　　that　space；　and　therefore　that　bulk；　is　an　important
consideration　in　the　eyes　of　the　Almighty。　The　cycles　in　which　the
stars　move　are　those　best　adapted　for　the　evolution；　without
collision；　of　the　greatest　possible　number　of　bodies。　The　forms　of
those　bodies　are　accurately　such　as；　within　a　given　surface；　to
include　the　greatest　possible　amount　of　matter；　　while　the　surfaces
themselves　are　so　disposed　as　to　accommodate　a　denser　population　than
could　be　accommodated　on　the　same　surfaces　otherwise　arranged。　Nor　is
it　any　argument　against　bulk　being　an　object　with　God；　that　space
itself　is　infinite；　for　there　may　be　an　infinity　of　matter　to　fill
it。　And　since　we　see　clearly　that　the　endowment　of　matter　with
vitality　is　a　principle　　indeed；　as　far　as　our　judgments　extend；
the　leading　principle　in　the　operations　of　Deity；　　it　is　scarcely
logical　to　imagine　it　confined　to　the　regions　of　the　minute；　where　we
daily　trace　it；　and　not　extending　to　those　of　the　august。　As　we　find
cycle　within　cycle　without　end；　　yet　all　revolving　around　one
far…distant　centre　which　is　the　God…head；　may　we　not　analogically
suppose　in　the　same　manner；　life　within　life；　the　less　within　the
greater；　and　all　within　the　Spirit　Divine？　In　short；　we　are　madly
erring；　through　self…esteem；　in　believing　man；　in　either　his　temporal
or　future　destinies；　to　be　of　more　moment　in　the　universe　than　that
vast　〃clod　of　the　valley〃　which　he　tills　and　contemns；　and　to　which
he　denies　a　soul　for　no　more　profound　reason　than　that　he　does　not
behold　it　in　operation。　｛*2｝

These　fancies；　and　such　as　these；　have　always　given　to　my　meditations
among　the　mountains　and　the　forests；　by　the　rivers　and　the　ocean；　a
tinge　of　what　the　everyday　world　would　not　fail　to　term　fantastic。　My
wanderings　amid　such　scenes　have　been　many；　and　far…searching；　and
often　solitary；　and　the　interest　with　which　I　have　strayed　through
many　a　dim；　deep　valley；　or　gazed　into　the　reflected　Heaven　of　many　a
bright　lake；　has　been　an　interest　greatly　deepened　by　the　thought
that　I　have　strayed　and　gazed　alone。　What　flippant　Frenchman　was　it
who　said　in　allusion　to　the　well…known　work　of　Zimmerman；　that；　〃la
solitude　est　une　belle　chose；　mais　il　faut　quelqu'un　pour　vous　dire
que　la　solitude　est　une　belle　chose？〃　The　epigram　cannot　be
gainsayed；　but　the　necessity　is　a　thing　that　does　not　exist。

It　was　during　one　of　my　lonely　journeyings；　amid　a　far　distant　region
of　mountain　locked　within　mountain；　and　sad　rivers　and　melancholy
tarn　writhing　or　sleeping　within　all　　that　I　chanced　upon　a　certain
rivulet　and　island。　I　came　upon　them　suddenly　in　the　leafy　June；　and
threw　myself　upon　the　turf；　beneath　the　branches　of　an　unknown
odorous　shrub；　that　I　might　doze　as　I　contemplated　the　scene。　I　felt
that　thus　only　should　I　look　upon　it　　such　was　the　character　of
phantasm　which　it　wore。

On　all　sides　　save　to　the　west；　where　the　sun　was　about　sinking　
arose　the　verdant　walls　of　the　forest。　The　little　river　which　turned
sharply　in　its　course；　and　was　thus　immediately　lost　to　sight；　seemed
to　have　no　exit　from　its　prison；　but　to　be　absorbed　by　the　deep　green
foliage　of　the　trees　to　the　east　　while　in　the　opposite　quarter　（so
it　appeared　to　me　as　I　lay　at　length　and　glanced　upward）　there　poured
down　noiselessly　and　continuously　into　the　valley；　a　rich　golden　and
crimson　waterfall　from　the　sunset　fountains　of　the　sky。

About　midway　in　the　short　vista　which　my　dreamy　vision　took　in；　one
small　circular　island；　profusely　verdured；　reposed　upon　the　bosom　of
the　stream。

So　blended　bank　and　shadow　there

That　each　seemed　pendulous　in　air　　so　mirror…like　was　the　glassy
water；　that　it　was　scarcely　possible　to　say　at　what　point　upon　the
slope　of　the　emerald　turf　its　crystal　dominion　began。

My　position　enabled　me　to　include　in　a　single　view　both　the　eastern
and　western　extremities　of　the　islet；　and　I　observed　a
singularly…marked　difference　in　their　aspects。　The　latter　was　all　one
radiant　harem　of　garden　beauties。　It　glowed　and　blushed　beneath　the
eyes　of　the　slant　sunlight；　and　fairly　laughed　with　flowers。　The
grass　was　short；　springy；　sweet…scented；　and　Asphodel…interspersed。
The　trees　were　lithe；　mirthful；　erect　　bright；　slender；　and
graceful；　　of　eastern　figure　and　foliage；　with　bark　smooth；　glossy；
and　parti…colored。　There　seemed　a　deep　sense　of　life　and　joy　about
all；　and　although　no　airs　blew　from　out　the　heavens；　yet　every　thing
had　motion　through　the　gentle　sweepings　to　and　fro　of　innumerable
butterflies；　that　might　have　been　mistaken　for　tulips　with　wings。
｛*4｝

The　other　or　eastern　end　of　the　isle　was　whelmed　in　the　blackest
shade。　A　sombre；　yet　beautiful　an