the works of edgar allan poe-2-第36部分

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apartment。　For　many　minutes　of　a　dreamy　and　trembling　abstraction；　I
busied　myself　in　vain；　unconnected　conjecture。　During　this　period；　I
became　aware；　for　the　first　time；　of　the　origin　of　the　sulphurous
light　which　illumined　the　cell。　It　proceeded　from　a　fissure；　about
half　an　inch　in　width；　extending　entirely　around　the　prison　at　the
base　of　the　walls；　which　thus　appeared；　and　were；　completely
separated　from　the　floor。　I　endeavored；　but　of　course　in　vain；　to
look　through　the　aperture。

As　I　arose　from　the　attempt；　the　mystery　of　the　alteration　in　the
chamber　broke　at　once　upon　my　understanding。　I　have　observed　that；
although　the　outlines　of　the　figures　upon　the　walls　were　sufficiently
distinct；　yet　the　colors　seemed　blurred　and　indefinite。　These　colors
had　now　assumed；　and　were　momentarily　assuming；　a　startling　and　most
intense　brilliancy；　that　gave　to　the　spectral　and　fiendish
portraitures　an　aspect　that　might　have　thrilled　even　firmer　nerves
than　my　own。　Demon　eyes；　of　a　wild　and　ghastly　vivacity；　glared　upon
me　in　a　thousand　directions；　where　none　had　been　visible　before；　and
gleamed　with　the　lurid　lustre　of　a　fire　that　I　could　not　force　my
imagination　to　regard　as　unreal。

Unreal！　　Even　while　I　breathed　there　came　to　my　nostrils　the　breath
of　the　vapour　of　heated　iron！　A　suffocating　odour　pervaded　the
prison！　A　deeper　glow　settled　each　moment　in　the　eyes　that　glared　at
my　agonies！　A　richer　tint　of　crimson　diffused　itself　over　the
pictured　horrors　of　blood。　I　panted！　I　gasped　for　breath！　There　could
be　no　doubt　of　the　design　of　my　tormentors　　oh！　most　unrelenting！
oh！　most　demoniac　of　men！　I　shrank　from　the　glowing　metal　to　the
centre　of　the　cell。　Amid　the　thought　of　the　fiery　destruction　that
impended；　the　idea　of　the　coolness　of　the　well　came　over　my　soul　like
balm。　I　rushed　to　its　deadly　brink。　I　threw　my　straining　vision
below。　The　glare　from　the　enkindled　roof　illumined　its　inmost
recesses。　Yet；　for　a　wild　moment；　did　my　spirit　refuse　to　comprehend
the　meaning　of　what　I　saw。　At　length　it　forced　　it　wrestled　its　way
into　my　soul　　it　burned　itself　in　upon　my　shuddering　reason。　　Oh！
for　a　voice　to　speak！　　oh！　horror！　　oh！　any　horror　but　this！　With
a　shriek；　I　rushed　from　the　margin；　and　buried　my　face　in　my　hands　
weeping　bitterly。

The　heat　rapidly　increased；　and　once　again　I　looked　up；　shuddering　as
with　a　fit　of　the　ague。　There　had　been　a　second　change　in　the　cell　
and　now　the　change　was　obviously　in　the　form。　As　before；　it　was　in
vain　that　I；　at　first；　endeavoured　to　appreciate　or　understand　what
was　taking　place。　But　not　long　was　I　left　in　doubt。　The　Inquisitorial
vengeance　had　been　hurried　by　my　two…fold　escape；　and　there　was　to　be
no　more　dallying　with　the　King　of　Terrors。　The　room　had　been　square。
I　saw　that　two　of　its　iron　angles　were　now　acute　　two；
consequently；　obtuse。　The　fearful　difference　quickly　increased　with　a
low　rumbling　or　moaning　sound。　In　an　instant　the　apartment　had
shifted　its　form　into　that　of　a　lozenge。　But　the　alteration　stopped
not　here…I　neither　hoped　nor　desired　it　to　stop。　I　could　have　clasped
the　red　walls　to　my　bosom　as　a　garment　of　eternal　peace。　〃Death；〃　I
said；　〃any　death　but　that　of　the　pit！〃　Fool！　might　I　have　not　known
that　into　the　pit　it　was　the　object　of　the　burning　iron　to　urge　me？
Could　I　resist　its　glow？　or；　if　even　that；　could　I　withstand　its
pressure　And　now；　flatter　and　flatter　grew　the　lozenge；　with　a
rapidity　that　left　me　no　time　for　contemplation。　Its　centre；　and　of
course；　its　greatest　width；　came　just　over　the　yawning　gulf。　I　shrank
back　　but　the　closing　walls　pressed　me　resistlessly　onward。　At
length　for　my　seared　and　writhing　body　there　was　no　longer　an　inch　of
foothold　on　the　firm　floor　of　the　prison。　I　struggled　no　more；　but
the　agony　of　my　soul　found　vent　in　one　loud；　long；　and　final　scream
of　despair。　I　felt　that　I　tottered　upon　the　brink　　I　averted　my
eyes　

There　was　a　discordant　hum　of　human　voices！　There　was　a　loud　blast　as
of　many　trumpets！　There　was　a　harsh　grating　as　of　a　thousand
thunders！　The　fiery　walls　rushed　back！　An　outstretched　arm　caught　my
own　as　I　fell；　fainting；　into　the　abyss。　It　was　that　of　General
Lasalle。　The　French　army　had　entered　Toledo。　The　Inquisition　was　in
the　hands　of　its　enemies。

~~~　End　of　Text　~~~



THE　PREMATURE　BURIAL

　　　　THERE　are　certain　themes　of　which　the　interest　is　all…absorbing；
but　which　are　too　entirely　horrible　for　the　purposes　of　legitimate
fiction。　These　the　mere　romanticist　must　eschew；　if　he　do　not　wish　to
offend　or　to　disgust。　They　are　with　propriety　handled　only　when　the
severity　and　majesty　of　Truth　sanctify　and　sustain　them。　We　thrill；
for　example；　with　the　most　intense　of　〃pleasurable　pain〃　over　the
accounts　of　the　Passage　of　the　Beresina；　of　the　Earthquake　at　Lisbon；
of　the　Plague　at　London；　of　the　Massacre　of　St。　Bartholomew；　or　of
the　stifling　of　the　hundred　and　twenty…three　prisoners　in　the　Black
Hole　at　Calcutta。　But　in　these　accounts　it　is　the　fact　…　　it　is　the
reality　…　　it　is　the　history　which　excites。　As　inventions；　we
should　regard　them　with　simple　abhorrence。

I　have　mentioned　some　few　of　the　more　prominent　and　august　calamities
on　record；　but　in　these　it　is　the　extent；　not　less　than　the　character
of　the　calamity；　which　so　vividly　impresses　the　fancy。　I　need　not
remind　the　reader　that；　from　the　long　and　weird　catalogue　of　human
miseries；　I　might　have　selected　many　individual　instances　more
replete　with　essential　suffering　than　any　of　these　vast　generalities
of　disaster。　The　true　wretchedness；　indeed　　the　ultimate　woe　…　
is　particular；　not　diffuse。　That　the　ghastly　extremes　of　agony　are
endured　by　man　the　unit；　and　never　by　man　the　mass　…　　for　this　let
us　thank　a　merciful　God！

To　be　buried　while　alive　is；　beyond　question；　the　most　terrific　of
these　extremes　which　has　ever　fallen　to　the　lot　of　mere　mortality。
That　it　has　frequently；　very　frequently；　so　fallen　will　scarcely　be
denied　by　those　who　think。　The　boundaries　which　divide　Life　from
Death　are　at　best　shadowy　and　vague。　Who　shall　say　where　the　one
ends；　and　where　the　other　begins？　We　know　that　there　are　diseases　in
which　occur　total　cessations　of　all　the　apparent　functions　of
vitality；　and　yet　in　which　these　cessations　are　merely　suspensions；
properly　so　called。　They　are　only　temporary　pauses　in　the
incomprehensible　mechanism。　A　certain　period　elapses；　and　some　unseen
mysterious　principle　again　sets　in　motion　the　magic　pinions　and　the
wizard　wheels。　The　silver　cord　was　not　for　ever　loosed；　nor　the
golden　bowl　irreparably　broken。　But　where；　meantime；　was　the　soul？

Apart；　however；　from　the　inevitable　conclusion；　a　priori　that　such
causes　must　produce　such　effects　…　　that　the　well…known　occurrence
of　such　cases　of　suspended　animation　must　naturally　give　rise；　now
and　then；　to　premature　interments　　apart　from　this　consideration；
we　have　the　direct　testimony　of　medical　and　ordinary　experience　to
prove　that　a　vast　number　of　such　interments　have　actually　taken
place。　I　might　refer　at　once；　if　necessary　to　a　hundred　well
authenticated　instances。　One　of　very　remarkable　character；　and　of
which　the　circumstances　may　be　fresh　in　the　memory　of　some　of　my
readers；　occurred；　not　very　long　ago；　in　the　neighboring　city　of
Baltimore；　where　it　occasioned　a　painful；　intense；　and
widely…extended　excitement。　The　wife　of　one　of　the　most　respectable
citizens…a　lawyer　of　eminence　and　a　member　of　Congress　　was　seized
with　a　sudden　and　unaccountable　illness；　which　completely　baffled　the
skill　of　her　physicians。　After　much　suffering　she　died；　or　was
supposed　to　die。　No　one　suspected；　indeed；　or　had　reason　to　suspect；
that　she　was　not　actually　dead。　She　presented　all　the　ordinary
appearances　of　death。　The　face　assumed　the　usual　pinched　and　sunken
outline。　The　lips　were　of　the　usual　marble　pallor。　The　eyes　were
lustreless。　There　was　no　warmth。　Pulsation　had　ceased。　For　three　days
the　body　was　preserved　unburied；　during　which　it　had　acquired　a　stony
rigidity。　The　funeral；　in　short；　was　hastened；　on　account　of　the
rapid　advance　of　what　was　supposed　to　be　decomposition。

The　lady　was　deposited　in　her　family　vault；　which；　for　three
subsequent　years；　was　undisturbed。　At　the　expiration　of　this　term　it
was　opened　for　the　reception　of　a　sarcophagus；　…　　but；　alas！　how
fearful　a　shock　awaited　the　husband；　who；　personally；　threw　open　the
door！　As　its　portals　swung　outwardly　back；　some　white…apparelled
object　fell　rattling　within　his　arms。　It　was　the　skeleton　of　his　wife
in　her　yet　unmoulded　shroud。

A　careful　investigation　rendered　it　evident　that　she　had　revived
within　two　days　after　her　entombment；　that　her　struggles　within　the
coffin　had　caused　it　to　fall　from　a　ledge；　or　shelf　to　the　floor；
where　it　was　so　broken　as　to　permit　her　escape。　A　lamp　which　had　been
accidentally　left；　full　of　oil；　within　the　tomb；　was　found　empty；　it
might　have　been　exhausted；　however；　by　evaporation。　On　the　uttermost
of　the　steps　which　led　down　into　the　dread　chamber　was　a　large
fragment　of　the　coffin；　with　which；　it　seemed；　that　she　had
endeavored　to　arrest　attention　by　striking　the　iron　door。　While　thus
occupied；　she　probably　swooned；　or　possibly　died；　through　sheer
terror；　and；　in　failing；　her　shroud　became　entangled　in　some　iron　
work　which　projected　interiorly。　Thus　she　remained；　and　thus　she
rotted；　erect。

In　the　year　1810；　a　case　of　living　inhumation　happened　in　France；
attended　with　circumstances　which　go　far　to　warrant　the　assertion
that　truth　is；　indeed；　stranger　than　fiction。　The　heroine　of　the
story　was　a　Mademoiselle　Victorine　Lafourcade；　a　young　girl　of
illustrious　family；　of　wealth；　and　of　great　personal　beauty。　Among
her　numerous　suitors　was　Julien　Bossuet；　a　poor　litterateur；　or
journalist　of　Paris。　His　talents　and　general　amiability　had
recommended　him　to　the　notice　of　the　heiress；　by　whom　he　seems　to
have　been　truly　beloved；　but　her　pride　of　birth　decided　her；　finally；
to　reject　him；　and　to　wed　a　Monsieur　Renelle；　a　banker　and　a
diplomatist　of　some　eminence。　After　marriage；　however；　this　gentleman
neglected；　and；　perhaps；　even　more　positively　ill…treated　her。　Having
passed　with　him　some　wretched　years；　she　died；　…　　at　leas