the works of edgar allan poe-2-第50部分

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days；　I　had　given　myself　up　entirely　to　wine；　and　its　maddening
influence　upon　my　hereditary　temper　rendered　me　more　and　more
impatient　of　control。　I　began　to　murmur；　　to　hesitate；　　to
resist。　And　was　it　only　fancy　which　induced　me　to　believe　that；　with
the　increase　of　my　own　firmness；　that　of　my　tormentor　underwent　a
proportional　diminution？　Be　this　as　it　may；　I　now　began　to　feel　the
inspiration　of　a　burning　hope；　and　at　length　nurtured　in　my　secret
thoughts　a　stern　and　desperate　resolution　that　I　would　submit　no
longer　to　be　enslaved。

It　was　at　Rome；　during　the　Carnival　of　18　　；　that　I　attended　a
masquerade　in　the　palazzo　of　the　Neapolitan　Duke　Di　Broglio。　I　had
indulged　more　freely　than　usual　in　the　excesses　of　the　wine…table；
and　now　the　suffocating　atmosphere　of　the　crowded　rooms　irritated　me
beyond　endurance。　The　difficulty；　too；　of　forcing　my　way　through　the
mazes　of　the　company　contributed　not　a　little　to　the　ruffling　of　my
temper；　for　I　was　anxiously　seeking；　（let　me　not　say　with　what
unworthy　motive）　the　young；　the　gay；　the　beautiful　wife　of　the　aged
and　doting　Di　Broglio。　With　a　too　unscrupulous　confidence　she　had
previously　communicated　to　me　the　secret　of　the　costume　in　which　she
would　be　habited；　and　now；　having　caught　a　glimpse　of　her　person；　I
was　hurrying　to　make　my　way　into　her　presence。　　At　this　moment　I
felt　a　light　hand　placed　upon　my　shoulder；　and　that　ever…remembered；
low；　damnable　whisper　within　my　ear。

In　an　absolute　phrenzy　of　wrath；　I　turned　at　once　upon　him　who　had
thus　interrupted　me；　and　seized　him　violently　by　tile　collar。　He　was
attired；　as　I　had　expected；　in　a　costume　altogether　similar　to　my
own；　wearing　a　Spanish　cloak　of　blue　velvet；　begirt　about　the　waist
with　a　crimson　belt　sustaining　a　rapier。　A　mask　of　black　silk
entirely　covered　his　face。

〃Scoundrel！〃　I　said；　in　a　voice　husky　with　rage；　while　every　syllable
I　uttered　seemed　as　new　fuel　to　my　fury；　〃scoundrel！　impostor！
accursed　villain！　you　shall　not　　you　shall　not　dog　me　unto　death！
Follow　me；　or　I　stab　you　where　you　stand！〃　　and　I　broke　my　way　from
the　ball…room　into　a　small　ante…chamber　adjoining　　dragging　him
unresistingly　with　me　as　I　went。

Upon　entering；　I　thrust　him　furiously　from　me。　He　staggered　against
the　wall；　while　I　closed　the　door　with　an　oath；　and　commanded　him　to
draw。　He　hesitated　but　for　an　instant；　then；　with　a　slight　sigh；　drew
in　silence；　and　put　himself　upon　his　defence。

The　contest　was　brief　indeed。　I　was　frantic　with　every　species　of
wild　excitement；　and　felt　within　my　single　arm　the　energy　and　power
of　a　multitude。　In　a　few　seconds　I　forced　him　by　sheer　strength
against　the　wainscoting；　and　thus；　getting　him　at　mercy；　plunged　my
sword；　with　brute　ferocity；　repeatedly　through　and　through　his　bosom。

At　that　instant　some　person　tried　the　latch　of　the　door。　I　hastened
to　prevent　an　intrusion；　and　then　immediately　returned　to　my　dying
antagonist。　But　what　human　language　can　adequately　portray　that
astonishment；　that　horror　which　possessed　me　at　the　spectacle　then
presented　to　view？　The　brief　moment　in　which　I　averted　my　eyes　had
been　sufficient　to　produce；　apparently；　a　material　change　in　the
arrangements　at　the　upper　or　farther　end　of　the　room。　A　large　mirror；
　so　at　first　it　seemed　to　me　in　my　confusion　　now　stood　where
none　had　been　perceptible　before；　and；　as　I　stepped　up　to　it　in
extremity　of　terror；　mine　own　image；　but　with　features　all　pale　and
dabbled　in　blood；　advanced　to　meet　me　with　a　feeble　and　tottering
gait。

Thus　it　appeared；　I　say；　but　was　not。　It　was　my　antagonist　　it　was
Wilson；　who　then　stood　before　me　in　the　agonies　of　his　dissolution。
His　mask　and　cloak　lay；　where　he　had　thrown　them；　upon　the　floor。　Not
a　thread　in　all　his　raiment　　not　a　line　in　all　the　marked　and
singular　lineaments　of　his　face　which　was　not；　even　in　the　most
absolute　identity；　mine　own！

It　was　Wilson；　but　he　spoke　no　longer　in　a　whisper；　and　I　could　have
fancied　that　I　myself　was　speaking　while　he　said：

〃You　have　conquered；　and　I　yield。　Yet；　henceforward　art　thou　also
dead　　dead　to　the　World；　to　Heaven　and　to　Hope！　In　me　didst　thou
exist　　and；　in　my　death；　see　by　this　image；　which　is　thine　own；　how
utterly　thou　hast　murdered　thyself。〃

~~~　End　of　Text　~~~



The　Tell…Tale　Heart。

　　　　TRUE！　…　nervous　…　very；　very　dreadfully　nervous　I　had　been　and
am；　but　why　will　you　say　that　I　am　mad？　The　disease　had　sharpened　my
senses　…　not　destroyed　…　not　dulled　them。　Above　all　was　the　sense　of
hearing　acute。　I　heard　all　things　in　the　heaven　and　in　the　earth。　I
heard　many　things　in　hell。　How；　then；　am　I　mad？　Hearken！　and　observe
how　healthily　…　how　calmly　I　can　tell　you　the　whole　story。

It　is　impossible　to　say　how　first　the　idea　entered　my　brain；　but　once
conceived；　it　haunted　me　day　and　night。　Object　there　was　none。
Passion　there　was　none。　I　loved　the　old　man。　He　had　never　wronged　me。
He　had　never　given　me　insult。　For　his　gold　I　had　no　desire。　I　think
it　was　his　eye！　yes；　it　was　this！　He　had　the　eye　of　a　vulture　…　a
pale　blue　eye；　with　a　film　over　it。　Whenever　it　fell　upon　me；　my
blood　ran　cold；　and　so　by　degrees　…　very　gradually　…　I　made　up　my
mind　to　take　the　life　of　the　old　man；　and　thus　rid　myself　of　the　eye
forever。

Now　this　is　the　point。　You　fancy　me　mad。　Madmen　know　nothing。　But　you
should　have　seen　me。　You　should　have　seen　how　wisely　I　proceeded　…
with　what　caution　…　with　what　foresight　…　with　what　dissimulation　I
went　to　work！　I　was　never　kinder　to　the　old　man　than　during　the　whole
week　before　I　killed　him。　And　every　night；　about　midnight；　I　turned
the　latch　of　his　door　and　opened　it　…　oh　so　gently！　And　then；　when　I
had　made　an　opening　sufficient　for　my　head；　I　put　in　a　dark　lantern；
all　closed；　closed；　that　no　light　shone　out；　and　then　I　thrust　in　my
head。　Oh；　you　would　have　laughed　to　see　how　cunningly　I　thrust　it　in！
I　moved　it　slowly　…　very；　very　slowly；　so　that　I　might　not　disturb
the　old　man's　sleep。　It　took　me　an　hour　to　place　my　whole　head　within
the　opening　so　far　that　I　could　see　him　as　he　lay　upon　his　bed。　Ha！
would　a　madman　have　been　so　wise　as　this；　And　then；　when　my　head　was
well　in　the　room；　I　undid　the　lantern　cautiously…oh；　so　cautiously　…
cautiously　（for　the　hinges　creaked）　…　I　undid　it　just　so　much　that　a
single　thin　ray　fell　upon　the　vulture　eye。　And　this　I　did　for　seven
long　nights　…　every　night　just　at　midnight　…　but　I　found　the　eye
always　closed；　and　so　it　was　impossible　to　do　the　work；　for　it　was
not　the　old　man　who　vexed　me；　but　his　Evil　Eye。　And　every　morning；
when　the　day　broke；　I　went　boldly　into　the　chamber；　and　spoke
courageously　to　him；　calling　him　by　name　in　a　hearty　tone；　and
inquiring　how　he　has　passed　the　night。　So　you　see　he　would　have　been
a　very　profound　old　man；　indeed；　to　suspect　that　every　night；　just　at
twelve；　I　looked　in　upon　him　while　he　slept。

Upon　the　eighth　night　I　was　more　than　usually　cautious　in　opening　the
door。　A　watch's　minute　hand　moves　more　quickly　than　did　mine。　Never
before　that　night　had　I　felt　the　extent　of　my　own　powers　…　of　my
sagacity。　I　could　scarcely　contain　my　feelings　of　triumph。　To　think
that　there　I　was；　opening　the　door；　little　by　little；　and　he　not　even
to　dream　of　my　secret　deeds　or　thoughts。　I　fairly　chuckled　at　the
idea；　and　perhaps　he　heard　me；　for　he　moved　on　the　bed　suddenly；　as
if　startled。　Now　you　may　think　that　I　drew　back　…　but　no。　His　room
was　as　black　as　pitch　with　the　thick　darkness；　（for　the　shutters　were
close　fastened；　through　fear　of　robbers；）　and　so　I　knew　that　he　could
not　see　the　opening　of　the　door；　and　I　kept　pushing　it　on　steadily；
steadily。

I　had　my　head　in；　and　was　about　to　open　the　lantern；　when　my　thumb
slipped　upon　the　tin　fastening；　and　the　old　man　sprang　up　in　bed；
crying　out　…　〃Who's　there？〃

I　kept　quite　still　and　said　nothing。　For　a　whole　hour　I　did　not　move
a　muscle；　and　in　the　meantime　I　did　not　hear　him　lie　down。　He　was
still　sitting　up　in　the　bed　listening；　…　just　as　I　have　done；　night
after　night；　hearkening　to　the　death　watches　in　the　wall。

Presently　I　heard　a　slight　groan；　and　I　knew　it　was　the　groan　of
mortal　terror。　It　was　not　a　groan　of　pain　or　of　grief　…　oh；　no！　…　it
was　the　low　stifled　sound　that　arises　from　the　bottom　of　the　soul
when　overcharged　with　awe。　I　knew　the　sound　well。　Many　a　night；　just
at　midnight；　when　all　the　world　slept；　it　has　welled　up　from　my　own
bosom；　deepening；　with　its　dreadful　echo；　the　terrors　that　distracted
me。　I　say　I　knew　it　well。　I　knew　what　the　old　man　felt；　and　pitied
him；　although　I　chuckled　at　heart。　I　knew　that　he　had　been　lying
awake　ever　since　the　first　slight　noise；　when　he　had　turned　in　the
bed。　His　fears　had　been　ever　since　growing　upon　him。　He　had　been
trying　to　fancy　them　causeless；　but　could　not。　He　had　been　saying　to
himself　…　〃It　is　nothing　but　the　wind　in　the　chimney　…　it　is　only　a
mouse　crossing　the　floor；〃　or　〃It　is　merely　a　cricket　which　has　made
a　single　chirp。〃　Yes；　he　had　been　trying　to　comfort　himself　with
these　suppositions：　but　he　had　found　all　in　vain。　All　in　vain；
because　Death；　in　approaching　him　had　stalked　with　his　black　shadow
before　him；　and　enveloped　the　victim。　And　it　was　the　mournful
influence　of　the　unperceived　shadow　that　caused　him　to　feel　…
although　he　neither　saw　nor　heard　…　to　feel　the　presence　of　my　head
within　the　room。

When　I　had　waited　a　long　time；　very　patiently；　without　hearing　him
lie　down；　I　resolved　to　open　a　little　…　a　very；　very　little　crevice
in　the　lantern。　So　I　opened　it　…　you　cannot　imagine　how　stealthily；
stealthily　…　until；　at　length　a　simple　dim　ray；　like　the　thread　of
the　spider；　shot　from　out　the　crevice　and　fell　full　upon　the　vulture
eye。

It　was　open　…　wide；　wide　open　…　and　I　grew　furious　as　I　gazed　upon
it。　I　saw　it　with　perfect　distinctness　…　all　a　dull　blue；　with　a
hideous　veil　over　it　that　chilled　the　very　marrow　in　my　bones；　but　I
could　see　nothing　else　of　the　old　man's　face　or　person：　for　I　had
directed　the　ray　as　if　by　instinct；　precisely　upon　the　damned　spot。

And　have　I　not　told　you　that　what　you　mistake　for　madness　is　but
over…acuteness　of　the　sense？　…　now；　I　say；　there　came　to　my　ears　a
low；　dull；　quick　sound；　such　as　a　watch　makes　when