the works of edgar allan poe-2-第33部分

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　　　Bewildered；　I　flew　to　the　ottoman；　and　endeavored　to　arouse　the
sleeper　to　a　sense　of　the　startling　intelligence。　　But　his　limbs　were
rigid　…　his　lips　were　livid　…　his　lately　beaming　eyes　were　riveted　in
_death_。　　I　staggered　back　towards　the　table　…　my　hand　fell　upon　a
cracked　and　blackened　goblet　…　and　a　consciousness　of　the　entire　and
terrible　truth　flashed　suddenly　over　my　soul。

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THE　PIT　AND　THE　PENDULUM

Impia　tortorum　longos　hic　turba　furores
Sanguinis　innocui；　non　satiata；　aluit。
Sospite　nunc　patria；　fracto　nunc　funeris　antro；
Mors　ubi　dira　fuit　vita　salusque　patent。

＇_Quatrain　composed　for　the　gates　of　a　market　to　he　erected　upon　the
site　of　the　Jacobin　Club　House　at　Paris_。＇

I　WAS　sick　　sick　unto　death　with　that　long　agony；　and　when　they　at
length　unbound　me；　and　I　was　permitted　to　sit；　I　felt　that　my　senses
were　leaving　me。　The　sentence　　the　dread　sentence　of　death　　was
the　last　of　distinct　accentuation　which　reached　my　ears。　After　that；
the　sound　of　the　inquisitorial　voices　seemed　merged　in　one　dreamy
indeterminate　hum。　It　conveyed　to　my　soul　the　idea　of　revolution　
perhaps　from　its　association　in　fancy　with　the　burr　of　a　mill　wheel。
This　only　for　a　brief　period；　for　presently　I　heard　no　more。　Yet；　for
a　while；　I　saw；　but　with　how　terrible　an　exaggeration！　I　saw　the　lips
of　the　black…robed　judges。　They　appeared　to　me　white　　whiter　than
the　sheet　upon　which　I　trace　these　words　　and　thin　even　to
grotesqueness；　thin　with　the　intensity　of　their　expression　of
firmness　　of　immoveable　resolution　　of　stern　contempt　of　human
torture。　I　saw　that　the　decrees　of　what　to　me　was　Fate；　were　still
issuing　from　those　lips。　I　saw　them　writhe　with　a　deadly　locution。　I
saw　them　fashion　the　syllables　of　my　name；　and　I　shuddered　because　no
sound　succeeded。　I　saw；　too；　for　a　few　moments　of　delirious　horror；
the　soft　and　nearly　imperceptible　waving　of　the　sable　draperies　which
enwrapped　the　walls　of　the　apartment。　And　then　my　vision　fell　upon
the　seven　tall　candles　upon　the　table。　At　first　they　wore　the　aspect
of　charity；　and　seemed　white　and　slender　angels　who　would　save　me；
but　then；　all　at　once；　there　came　a　most　deadly　nausea　over　my
spirit；　and　I　felt　every　fibre　in　my　frame　thrill　as　if　I　had　touched
the　wire　of　a　galvanic　battery；　while　the　angel　forms　became
meaningless　spectres；　with　heads　of　flame；　and　I　saw　that　from　them
there　would　be　no　help。　And　then　there　stole　into　my　fancy；　like　a
rich　musical　note；　the　thought　of　what　sweet　rest　there　must　be　in
the　grave。　The　thought　came　gently　and　stealthily；　and　it　seemed　long
before　it　attained　full　appreciation；　but　just　as　my　spirit　came　at
length　properly　to　feel　and　entertain　it；　the　figures　of　the　judges
vanished；　as　if　magically；　from　before　me；　the　tall　candles　sank　into
nothingness；　their　flames　went　out　utterly；　the　blackness　of　darkness
supervened；　all　sensations　appeared　swallowed　up　in　a　mad　rushing
descent　as　of　the　soul　into　Hades。　Then　silence；　and　stillness；　night
were　the　universe。

I　had　swooned；　but　still　will　not　say　that　all　of　consciousness　was
lost。　What　of　it　there　remained　I　will　not　attempt　to　define；　or　even
to　describe；　yet　all　was　not　lost。　In　the　deepest　slumber　　no！　In
delirium　　no！　In　a　swoon　　no！　In　death　　no！　even　in　the　grave
all　is　not　lost。　Else　there　is　no　immortality　for　man。　Arousing　from
the　most　profound　of　slumbers；　we　break　the　gossamer　web　of　some
dream。　Yet　in　a　second　afterward；　（so　frail　may　that　web　have　been）
we　remember　not　that　we　have　dreamed。　In　the　return　to　life　from　the
swoon　there　are　two　stages；　first；　that　of　the　sense　of　mental　or
spiritual；　secondly；　that　of　the　sense　of　physical；　existence。　It
seems　probable　that　if；　upon　reaching　the　second　stage；　we　could
recall　the　impressions　of　the　first；　we　should　find　these　impressions
eloquent　in　memories　of　the　gulf　beyond。　And　that　gulf　is　　what？
How　at　least　shall　we　distinguish　its　shadows　from　those　of　the　tomb？
But　if　the　impressions　of　what　I　have　termed　the　first　stage；　are
not；　at　will；　recalled；　yet；　after　long　interval；　do　they　not　come
unbidden；　while　we　marvel　whence　they　come？　He　who　has　never　swooned；
is　not　he　who　finds　strange　palaces　and　wildly　familiar　faces　in
coals　that　glow；　is　not　he　who　beholds　floating　in　mid…air　the　sad
visions　that　the　many　may　not　view；　is　not　he　who　ponders　over　the
perfume　of　some　novel　flower　　is　not　he　whose　brain　grows
bewildered　with　the　meaning　of　some　musical　cadence　which　has　never
before　arrested　his　attention。

Amid　frequent　and　thoughtful　endeavors　to　remember；　amid　earnest
struggles　to　regather　some　token　of　the　state　of　seeming　nothingness
into　which　my　soul　had　lapsed；　there　have　been　moments　when　I　have
dreamed　of　success；　there　have　been　brief；　very　brief　periods　when　I
have　conjured　up　remembrances　which　the　lucid　reason　of　a　later　epoch
assures　me　could　have　had　reference　only　to　that　condition　of　seeming
unconsciousness。　These　shadows　of　memory　tell；　indistinctly；　of　tall
figures　that　lifted　and　bore　me　in　silence　down　　down　　still　down
　till　a　hideous　dizziness　oppressed　me　at　the　mere　idea　of　the
interminableness　of　the　descent。　They　tell　also　of　a　vague　horror　at
my　heart；　on　account　of　that　heart's　unnatural　stillness。　Then　comes
a　sense　of　sudden　motionlessness　throughout　all　things；　as　if　those
who　bore　me　（a　ghastly　train！）　had　outrun；　in　their　descent；　the
limits　of　the　limitless；　and　paused　from　the　wearisomeness　of　their
toil。　After　this　I　call　to　mind　flatness　and　dampness；　and　then　all
is　madness　　the　madness　of　a　memory　which　busies　itself　among
forbidden　things。

Very　suddenly　there　came　back　to　my　soul　motion　and　sound　　the
tumultuous　motion　of　the　heart；　and；　in　my　ears；　the　sound　of　its
beating。　Then　a　pause　in　which　all　is　blank。　Then　again　sound；　and
motion；　and　touch　　a　tingling　sensation　pervading　my　frame。　Then
the　mere　consciousness　of　existence；　without　thought　　a　condition
which　lasted　long。　Then；　very　suddenly；　thought；　and　shuddering
terror；　and　earnest　endeavor　to　comprehend　my　true　state。　Then　a
strong　desire　to　lapse　into　insensibility。　Then　a　rushing　revival　of
soul　and　a　successful　effort　to　move。　And　now　a　full　memory　of　the
trial；　of　the　judges；　of　the　sable　draperies；　of　the　sentence；　of　the
sickness；　of　the　swoon。　Then　entire　forgetfulness　of　all　that
followed；　of　all　that　a　later　day　and　much　earnestness　of　endeavor
have　enabled　me　vaguely　to　recall。

So　far；　I　had　not　opened　my　eyes。　I　felt　that　I　lay　upon　my　back；
unbound。　I　reached　out　my　hand；　and　it　fell　heavily　upon　something
damp　and　hard。　There　I　suffered　it　to　remain　for　many　minutes；　while
I　strove　to　imagine　where　and　what　I　could　be。　I　longed；　yet　dared
not　to　employ　my　vision。　I　dreaded　the　first　glance　at　objects　around
me。　It　was　not　that　I　feared　to　look　upon　things　horrible；　but　that　I
grew　aghast　lest　there　should　be　nothing　to　see。　At　length；　with　a
wild　desperation　at　heart；　I　quickly　unclosed　my　eyes。　My　worst
thoughts；　then；　were　confirmed。　The　blackness　of　eternal　night
encompassed　me。　I　struggled　for　breath。　The　intensity　of　the　darkness
seemed　to　oppress　and　stifle　me。　The　atmosphere　was　intolerably
close。　I　still　lay　quietly；　and　made　effort　to　exercise　my　reason。　I
brought　to　mind　the　inquisitorial　proceedings；　and　attempted　from
that　point　to　deduce　my　real　condition。　The　sentence　had　passed；　and
it　appeared　to　me　that　a　very　long　interval　of　time　had　since
elapsed。　Yet　not　for　a　moment　did　I　suppose　myself　actually　dead。
Such　a　supposition；　notwithstanding　what　we　read　in　fiction；　is
altogether　inconsistent　with　real　existence；　　but　where　and　in　what
state　was　I？　The　condemned　to　death；　I　knew；　perished　usually　at　the
autos…da…fe；　and　one　of　these　had　been　held　on　the　very　night　of　the
day　of　my　trial。　Had　I　been　remanded　to　my　dungeon；　to　await　the　next
sacrifice；　which　would　not　take　place　for　many　months？　This　I　at　once
saw　could　not　be。　Victims　had　been　in　immediate　demand。　Moreover；　my
dungeon；　as　well　as　all　the　condemned　cells　at　Toledo；　had　stone
floors；　and　light　was　not　altogether　excluded。

A　fearful　idea　now　suddenly　drove　the　blood　in　torrents　upon　my
heart；　and　for　a　brief　period；　I　once　more　relapsed　into
insensibility。　Upon　recovering；　I　at　once　started　to　my　feet；
trembling　convulsively　in　every　fibre。　I　thrust　my　arms　wildly　above
and　around　me　in　all　directions。　I　felt　nothing；　yet　dreaded　to　move
a　step；　lest　I　should　be　impeded　by　the　walls　of　a　tomb。　Perspiration
burst　from　every　pore；　and　stood　in　cold　big　beads　upon　my　forehead。
The　agony　of　suspense　grew　at　length　intolerable；　and　I　cautiously
moved　forward；　with　my　arms　extended；　and　my　eyes　straining　from
their　sockets；　in　the　hope　of　catching　some　faint　ray　of　light。　I
proceeded　for　many　paces；　but　still　all　was　blackness　and　vacancy。　I
breathed　more　freely。　It　seemed　evident　that　mine　was　not；　at　least；
the　most　hideous　of　fates。

And　now；　as　I　still　continued　to　step　cautiously　onward；　there　came
thronging　upon　my　recollection　a　thousand　vague　rumors　of　the　horrors
of　Toledo。　Of　the　dungeons　there　had　been　strange　things　narrated　
fables　I　had　always　deemed　them　　but　yet　strange；　and　too　ghastly
to　repeat；　save　in　a　whisper。　Was　I　left　to　perish　of　starvation　in
this　subterranean　world　of　darkness；　or　what　fate；　perhaps　even　more
fearful；　awaited　me？　That　the　result　would　be　death；　and　a　death　of
more　than　customary　bitterness；　I　knew　too　well　the　character　of　my
judges　to　doubt。　The　mode　and　the　hour　were　all　that　occupied　or
distracted　me。

My　outstretched　hands　at　length　encountered　some　solid　obstruction。
It　was　a　wall；　seemingly　of　stone　masonry　　very　smooth；　slimy；　and
cold。　I　followed　it　up；　stepping　with　all　the　careful　distrust　with
which　certain　antique　narratives　had　inspired　me。　This　process；
however；　afforded　me　no　means　of　ascertaining　the　dimensions　of　my
dungeon；　as　I　might　make　its　circuit；　and　return　to　the　point　whence
I　set　out；　without　being　aware　of　the　fact；　so　perfectly　uniform
seemed　the　wall。　I　therefore　sought　the　knife　which　had　been　in　my
pocket；　when　led　into　the　inquisitorial　chamber；　but　it　was　gone；　my
clo