summaryrefslogtreecommitdiff
path: root/1062-0.txt
diff options
context:
space:
mode:
Diffstat (limited to '1062-0.txt')
-rw-r--r--1062-0.txt740
1 files changed, 740 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/1062-0.txt b/1062-0.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c09b538
--- /dev/null
+++ b/1062-0.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,740 @@
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1062 ***
+
+This is our second experimental effort at cataloguing multiple items in
+a single file. In the first instance we use the same index number for
+each item, and just used multiple entries for that file in the index.
+In this, the second instance, we have used separate index numbers for
+the collection and for all the entries in that collection. Let us know
+which you prefer. We have traditionally used the smallest number of
+index entries--as somewhat of a protest against others who have copied
+Etexts and wanted it to appear as if they had more Etext than Project
+Gutenberg or various other etext collections. We want to make our
+Etexts as easy as possible to find and work with, but, not to "pad" our
+work. However, we prefer to post short works for you in collections,
+to eliminate you having to download all 11 kilobytes of our header and
+"legal fine print" to get files of sizes less than the headers. Please
+email me on this. Thanks! Michael S. Hart, hart@pobox.com
+
+
+
+
+The Raven
+
+by Edgar Allan Poe
+
+October, 1997 [Etext #1064]*
+
+
+
+THE RAVEN
+
+
+
+ Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
+ Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore--
+ While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
+ As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
+ "'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door--
+ Only this and nothing more."
+
+ Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
+ And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
+ Eagerly I wished the morrow;--vainly I had sought to borrow
+ From my books surcease of sorrow--sorrow for the lost Lenore--
+ For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore--
+ Nameless here for evermore.
+
+ And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
+ Thrilled me--filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
+ So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
+ "'Tis some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door--
+ Some late visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door;
+ This it is and nothing more."
+
+ Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
+ "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
+ But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
+ And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
+ That I scarce was sure I heard you"--here I opened wide the door--
+ Darkness there and nothing more.
+
+ Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
+ Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
+ But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
+ And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?"
+ This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"--
+ Merely this and nothing more.
+
+ Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
+ Soon again I heard a tapping something louder than before.
+ "Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;
+ Let me see, then, what thereat is and this mystery explore--
+ Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;--
+ 'Tis the wind and nothing more.
+
+ Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
+ In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore.
+ Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he,
+ But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door--
+ Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door--
+ Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
+
+ Then the ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
+ By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
+ "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
+ Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore--
+ Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
+ Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
+
+ Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
+ Though its answer little meaning--little relevancy bore;
+ For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
+ Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door--
+ Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
+ With such name as "Nevermore."
+
+ But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
+ That one word, as if its soul in that one word he did outpour
+ Nothing farther then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered--
+ Till I scarcely more than muttered: "Other friends have flown before--
+ On the morrow _he_ will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before."
+ Then the bird said "Nevermore."
+
+ Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
+ "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
+ Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
+ Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore--
+ Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
+ Of 'Never--nevermore.'"
+
+ But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
+ Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
+ Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
+ Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore--
+ What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
+ Meant in croaking "Nevermore."
+
+ This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
+ To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
+ This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
+ On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
+ But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er
+ _She_ shall press, ah, nevermore!
+
+ Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
+ Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
+ "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee--by these angels he hath sent thee
+ Respite--respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
+ Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
+ Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
+
+ "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!--
+ Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
+ Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted--
+ On this home by Horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore--
+ Is there--_is_ there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me, I implore!"
+ Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
+
+ "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!
+ By that Heaven that bends above us--by that God we both adore--
+ Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
+ It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore--
+ Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
+ Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
+
+ "Be that our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting--
+ "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
+ Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul has spoken!
+ Leave my loneliness unbroken!--quit the bust above my door!
+ Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
+ Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
+
+ And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
+ On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
+ And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming
+ And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadows on the floor;
+ And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
+ Shall be lifted--nevermore!
+
+
+
+
+The Masque of the Red Death
+
+by Edgar Allan Poe
+
+October, 1997 [Etext #1064]*
+
+
+
+
+The Masque of the Red Death
+
+
+The "Red Death" had long devastated the country. No pestilence had
+ever been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its
+seal--the redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp pains, and
+sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with
+dissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the
+face of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid
+and from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,
+progress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an
+hour.
+
+But the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his
+dominions were half depopulated, he summoned to his presence a thousand
+hale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his
+court, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his
+castellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,
+the creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong
+and lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The
+courtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and
+welded the bolts. They resolved to leave means neither of ingress nor
+egress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The
+abbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might
+bid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of
+itself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The
+prince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were
+buffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there
+were musicians, there was Beauty, there was wine. All these and
+security were within. Without was the "Red Death".
+
+It was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,
+and while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince
+Prospero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most
+unusual magnificence.
+
+It was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of
+the rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.
+In many palaces, however, such suites form a long and straight vista,
+while the folding doors slide back nearly to the walls on either hand,
+so that the view of the whole extent is scarcely impeded. Here the
+case was very different, as might have been expected from the duke's
+love of the _bizarre_. The apartments were so irregularly disposed that
+the vision embraced but little more than one at a time. There was a
+sharp turn at every twenty or thirty yards, and at each turn a novel
+effect. To the right and left, in the middle of each wall, a tall and
+narrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued
+the windings of the suite. These windows were of stained glass whose
+colour varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations
+of the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was
+hung, for example in blue--and vividly blue were its windows. The
+second chamber was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the
+panes were purple. The third was green throughout, and so were the
+casements. The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange--the fifth
+with white--the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely
+shrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and
+down the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same
+material and hue. But in this chamber only, the colour of the windows
+failed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were
+scarlet--a deep blood colour. Now in no one of the seven apartments
+was there any lamp or candelabrum, amid the profusion of golden
+ornaments that lay scattered to and fro or depended from the roof.
+There was no light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle within the
+suite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite, there
+stood, opposite to each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of
+fire, that projected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly
+illumined the room. And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and
+fantastic appearances. But in the western or black chamber the effect
+of the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the
+blood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a
+look upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of
+the company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.
+
+It was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western
+wall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a
+dull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute-hand made the
+circuit of the face, and the hour was to be stricken, there came from
+the brazen lungs of the clock a sound which was clear and loud and deep
+and exceedingly musical, but of so peculiar a note and emphasis that,
+at each lapse of an hour, the musicians of the orchestra were
+constrained to pause, momentarily, in their performance, to harken to
+the sound; and thus the waltzers perforce ceased their evolutions; and
+there was a brief disconcert of the whole gay company; and, while the
+chimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew
+pale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows
+as if in confused revery or meditation. But when the echoes had fully
+ceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians
+looked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervousness and
+folly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, that the next
+chiming of the clock should produce in them no similar emotion; and
+then, after the lapse of sixty minutes, (which embrace three thousand
+and six hundred seconds of the Time that flies,) there came yet another
+chiming of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and
+tremulousness and meditation as before.
+
+But, in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent revel. The
+tastes of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colours and
+effects. He disregarded the _decora_ of mere fashion. His plans were
+bold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with barbaric lustre. There
+are some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he
+was not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be _sure_
+that he was not.
+
+He had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven
+chambers, upon occasion of this great _fĂȘte_; and it was his own guiding
+taste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were
+grotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy and
+phantasm--much of what has been since seen in "Hernani". There were
+arabesque figures with unsuited limbs and appointments. There were
+delirious fancies such as the madman fashions. There were much of the
+beautiful, much of the wanton, much of the _bizarre_, something of the
+terrible, and not a little of that which might have excited disgust.
+To and fro in the seven chambers there stalked, in fact, a multitude of
+dreams. And these--the dreams--writhed in and about taking hue from
+the rooms, and causing the wild music of the orchestra to seem as the
+echo of their steps. And, anon, there strikes the ebony clock which
+stands in the hall of the velvet. And then, for a moment, all is
+still, and all is silent save the voice of the clock. The dreams are
+stiff-frozen as they stand. But the echoes of the chime die away--they
+have endured but an instant--and a light, half-subdued laughter floats
+after them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the
+dreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue
+from the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the
+tripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,
+there are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning
+away; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;
+and the blackness of the sable drapery appals; and to him whose foot
+falls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a
+muffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears
+who indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.
+
+But these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat
+feverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until
+at length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And
+then the music ceased, as I have told; and the evolutions of the
+waltzers were quieted; and there was an uneasy cessation of all things
+as before. But now there were twelve strokes to be sounded by the bell
+of the clock; and thus it happened, perhaps, that more of thought
+crept, with more of time, into the meditations of the thoughtful among
+those who revelled. And thus too, it happened, perhaps, that before the
+last echoes of the last chime had utterly sunk into silence, there were
+many individuals in the crowd who had found leisure to become aware of
+the presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no
+single individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having
+spread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole
+company a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and
+surprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.
+
+In an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be
+supposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.
+In truth the masquerade licence of the night was nearly unlimited; but
+the figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the
+bounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the
+hearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.
+Even with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,
+there are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,
+indeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of
+the stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall
+and gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the
+grave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to
+resemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest
+scrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all
+this might have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers
+around. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the
+Red Death. His vesture was dabbled in _blood_--and his broad brow, with
+all the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.
+
+When the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image
+(which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain
+its role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be
+convulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror
+or distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.
+
+"Who dares,"--he demanded hoarsely of the courtiers who stood near
+him--"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and
+unmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the
+battlements!"
+
+It was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince
+Prospero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven
+rooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and
+the music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.
+
+It was in the blue room where stood the prince, with a group of pale
+courtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight
+rushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at
+the moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately
+step, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless
+awe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole
+party, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that,
+unimpeded, he passed within a yard of the prince's person; and, while
+the vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of
+the rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the
+same solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the
+first, through the blue chamber to the purple--through the purple to
+the green--through the green to the orange--through this again to the
+white--and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been
+made to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Prospero,
+maddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,
+rushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on
+account of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a
+drawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three
+or four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained
+the extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted
+his pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming
+upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate
+in death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of
+despair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the
+black apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect
+and motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in
+unutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,
+which they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any
+tangible form.
+
+And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come
+like a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the
+blood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing
+posture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with
+that of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.
+And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over
+all.
+
+
+
+
+The Cask of Amontillado
+
+by Edgar Allan Poe
+
+October, 1997 [Etext #1065]*
+
+
+
+The Cask of Amontillado
+
+
+The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could, but
+when he ventured upon insult, I vowed revenge. You, who so well know
+the nature of my soul, will not suppose, however, that I gave utterance
+to a threat. _At length_ I would be avenged; this was a point
+definitely settled--but the very definitiveness with which it was
+resolved, precluded the idea of risk. I must not only punish, but
+punish with impunity. A wrong is unredressed when retribution
+overtakes its redresser. It is equally unredressed when the avenger
+fails to make himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong.
+
+It must be understood that neither by word nor deed had I given
+Fortunato cause to doubt my good will. I continued, as was my wont, to
+smile in his face, and he did not perceive that my smile _now_ was at
+the thought of his immolation.
+
+He had a weak point--this Fortunato--although in other regards he was a
+man to be respected and even feared. He prided himself on his
+connoisseurship in wine. Few Italians have the true virtuoso spirit.
+For the most part their enthusiasm is adopted to suit the time and
+opportunity--to practise imposture upon the British and Austrian
+_millionaires_. In painting and gemmary, Fortunato, like his countrymen,
+was a quack--but in the matter of old wines he was sincere. In this
+respect I did not differ from him materially: I was skillful in the
+Italian vintages myself, and bought largely whenever I could.
+
+It was about dusk, one evening during the supreme madness of the
+carnival season, that I encountered my friend. He accosted me with
+excessive warmth, for he had been drinking much. The man wore motley.
+He had on a tight-fitting parti-striped dress, and his head was
+surmounted by the conical cap and bells. I was so pleased to see him,
+that I thought I should never have done wringing his hand.
+
+I said to him--"My dear Fortunato, you are luckily met. How remarkably
+well you are looking to-day! But I have received a pipe of what passes
+for Amontillado, and I have my doubts."
+
+"How?" said he. "Amontillado? A pipe? Impossible! And in the middle
+of the carnival!"
+
+"I have my doubts," I replied; "and I was silly enough to pay the full
+Amontillado price without consulting you in the matter. You were not to
+be found, and I was fearful of losing a bargain."
+
+"Amontillado!"
+
+"I have my doubts."
+
+"Amontillado!"
+
+"And I must satisfy them."
+
+"Amontillado!"
+
+"As you are engaged, I am on my way to Luchesi. If any one has a
+critical turn, it is he. He will tell me--"
+
+"Luchesi cannot tell Amontillado from Sherry."
+
+"And yet some fools will have it that his taste is a match for your
+own."
+
+"Come, let us go."
+
+"Whither?"
+
+"To your vaults."
+
+"My friend, no; I will not impose upon your good nature. I perceive
+you have an engagement. Luchesi--"
+
+"I have no engagement;--come."
+
+"My friend, no. It is not the engagement, but the severe cold with
+which I perceive you are afflicted. The vaults are insufferably damp.
+They are encrusted with nitre."
+
+"Let us go, nevertheless. The cold is merely nothing. Amontillado! You
+have been imposed upon. And as for Luchesi, he cannot distinguish
+Sherry from Amontillado."
+
+Thus speaking, Fortunato possessed himself of my arm. Putting on a mask
+of black silk, and drawing a _roquelaire_ closely about my person, I
+suffered him to hurry me to my palazzo.
+
+There were no attendants at home; they had absconded to make merry in
+honour of the time. I had told them that I should not return until the
+morning, and had given them explicit orders not to stir from the house.
+These orders were sufficient, I well knew, to insure their immediate
+disappearance, one and all, as soon as my back was turned.
+
+I took from their sconces two flambeaux, and giving one to Fortunato,
+bowed him through several suites of rooms to the archway that led into
+the vaults. I passed down a long and winding staircase, requesting him
+to be cautious as he followed. We came at length to the foot of the
+descent, and stood together on the damp ground of the catacombs of the
+Montresors.
+
+The gait of my friend was unsteady, and the bells upon his cap jingled
+as he strode.
+
+"The pipe," said he.
+
+"It is farther on," said I; "but observe the white web-work which
+gleams from these cavern walls."
+
+He turned towards me, and looked into my eyes with two filmy orbs that
+distilled the rheum of intoxication.
+
+"Nitre?" he asked, at length.
+
+"Nitre," I replied. "How long have you had that cough?"
+
+"Ugh! ugh! ugh!--ugh! ugh! ugh!--ugh! ugh! ugh!--ugh! ugh! ugh!--ugh!
+ugh! ugh!"
+
+My poor friend found it impossible to reply for many minutes.
+
+"It is nothing," he said, at last.
+
+"Come," I said, with decision, "we will go back; your health is
+precious. You are rich, respected, admired, beloved; you are happy, as
+once I was. You are a man to be missed. For me it is no matter. We
+will go back; you will be ill, and I cannot be responsible. Besides,
+there is Luchesi--"
+
+"Enough," he said; "the cough is a mere nothing; it will not kill me. I
+shall not die of a cough."
+
+"True--true," I replied; "and, indeed, I had no intention of alarming
+you unnecessarily--but you should use all proper caution. A draught of
+this Medoc will defend us from the damps."
+
+Here I knocked off the neck of a bottle which I drew from a long row of
+its fellows that lay upon the mould.
+
+"Drink," I said, presenting him the wine.
+
+He raised it to his lips with a leer. He paused and nodded to me
+familiarly, while his bells jingled.
+
+"I drink," he said, "to the buried that repose around us."
+
+"And I to your long life."
+
+He again took my arm, and we proceeded.
+
+"These vaults," he said, "are extensive."
+
+"The Montresors," I replied, "were a great and numerous family."
+
+"I forget your arms."
+
+"A huge human foot d'or, in a field azure; the foot crushes a serpent
+rampant whose fangs are imbedded in the heel."
+
+"And the motto?"
+
+"_Nemo me impune lacessit_."
+
+"Good!" he said.
+
+The wine sparkled in his eyes and the bells jingled. My own fancy grew
+warm with the Medoc. We had passed through walls of piled bones, with
+casks and puncheons intermingling, into the inmost recesses of
+catacombs. I paused again, and this time I made bold to seize
+Fortunato by an arm above the elbow.
+
+"The nitre!" I said; "see, it increases. It hangs like moss upon the
+vaults. We are below the river's bed. The drops of moisture trickle
+among the bones. Come, we will go back ere it is too late. Your
+cough--"
+
+"It is nothing," he said; "let us go on. But first, another draught of
+the Medoc."
+
+I broke and reached him a flagon of De Grave. He emptied it at a
+breath. His eyes flashed with a fierce light. He laughed and threw
+the bottle upwards with a gesticulation I did not understand.
+
+I looked at him in surprise. He repeated the movement--a grotesque one.
+
+"You do not comprehend?" he said.
+
+"Not I," I replied.
+
+"Then you are not of the brotherhood."
+
+"How?"
+
+"You are not of the masons."
+
+"Yes, yes," I said; "yes, yes."
+
+"You? Impossible! A mason?"
+
+"A mason," I replied.
+
+"A sign," he said, "a sign."
+
+"It is this," I answered, producing a trowel from beneath the folds of
+my _roquelaire_.
+
+"You jest," he exclaimed, recoiling a few paces. "But let us proceed
+to the Amontillado."
+
+"Be it so," I said, replacing the tool beneath the cloak and again
+offering him my arm. He leaned upon it heavily. We continued our
+route in search of the Amontillado. We passed through a range of low
+arches, descended, passed on, and descending again, arrived at a deep
+crypt, in which the foulness of the air caused our flambeaux rather to
+glow than flame.
+
+At the most remote end of the crypt there appeared another less
+spacious. Its walls had been lined with human remains, piled to the
+vault overhead, in the fashion of the great catacombs of Paris. Three
+sides of this interior crypt were still ornamented in this manner. From
+the fourth side the bones had been thrown down, and lay promiscuously
+upon the earth, forming at one point a mound of some size. Within the
+wall thus exposed by the displacing of the bones, we perceived a still
+interior recess, in depth about four feet in width three, in height six
+or seven. It seemed to have been constructed for no especial use
+within itself, but formed merely the interval between two of the
+colossal supports of the roof of the catacombs, and was backed by one
+of their circumscribing walls of solid granite.
+
+It was in vain that Fortunato, uplifting his dull torch, endeavoured to
+pry into the depth of the recess. Its termination the feeble light did
+not enable us to see.
+
+"Proceed," I said; "herein is the Amontillado. As for Luchesi--"
+
+"He is an ignoramus," interrupted my friend, as he stepped unsteadily
+forward, while I followed immediately at his heels. In an instant he
+had reached the extremity of the niche, and finding his progress
+arrested by the rock, stood stupidly bewildered. A moment more and I
+had fettered him to the granite. In its surface were two iron staples,
+distant from each other about two feet, horizontally. From one of
+these depended a short chain, from the other a padlock. Throwing the
+links about his waist, it was but the work of a few seconds to secure
+it. He was too much astounded to resist. Withdrawing the key I
+stepped back from the recess.
+
+"Pass your hand," I said, "over the wall; you cannot help feeling the
+nitre. Indeed, it is _very_ damp. Once more let me _implore_ you to
+return. No? Then I must positively leave you. But I must first render
+you all the little attentions in my power."
+
+"The Amontillado!" ejaculated my friend, not yet recovered from his
+astonishment.
+
+"True," I replied; "the Amontillado."
+
+As I said these words I busied myself among the pile of bones of which
+I have before spoken. Throwing them aside, I soon uncovered a quantity
+of building stone and mortar. With these materials and with the aid of
+my trowel, I began vigorously to wall up the entrance of the niche.
+
+I had scarcely laid the first tier of the masonry when I discovered
+that the intoxication of Fortunato had in a great measure worn off. The
+earliest indication I had of this was a low moaning cry from the depth
+of the recess. It was _not_ the cry of a drunken man. There was then a
+long and obstinate silence. I laid the second tier, and the third, and
+the fourth; and then I heard the furious vibrations of the chain. The
+noise lasted for several minutes, during which, that I might hearken to
+it with the more satisfaction, I ceased my labours and sat down upon
+the bones. When at last the clanking subsided, I resumed the trowel,
+and finished without interruption the fifth, the sixth, and the seventh
+tier. The wall was now nearly upon a level with my breast. I again
+paused, and holding the flambeaux over the mason-work, threw a few
+feeble rays upon the figure within.
+
+A succession of loud and shrill screams, bursting suddenly from the
+throat of the chained form, seemed to thrust me violently back. For a
+brief moment I hesitated--I trembled. Unsheathing my rapier, I began
+to grope with it about the recess; but the thought of an instant
+reassured me. I placed my hand upon the solid fabric of the catacombs,
+and felt satisfied. I reapproached the wall; I replied to the yells of
+him who clamoured. I re-echoed--I aided--I surpassed them in volume
+and in strength. I did this, and the clamourer grew still.
+
+It was now midnight, and my task was drawing to a close. I had
+completed the eighth, the ninth, and the tenth tier. I had finished a
+portion of the last and the eleventh; there remained but a single stone
+to be fitted and plastered in. I struggled with its weight; I placed
+it partially in its destined position. But now there came from out the
+niche a low laugh that erected the hairs upon my head. It was
+succeeded by a sad voice, which I had difficulty in recognizing as that
+of the noble Fortunato. The voice said--
+
+"Ha! ha! ha!--he! he! he!--a very good joke indeed--an excellent jest.
+We shall have many a rich laugh about it at the palazzo--he! he!
+he!--over our wine--he! he! he!"
+
+"The Amontillado!" I said.
+
+"He! he! he!--he! he! he!--yes, the Amontillado. But is it not getting
+late? Will not they be awaiting us at the palazzo, the Lady Fortunato
+and the rest? Let us be gone."
+
+"Yes," I said, "let us be gone."
+
+"_For the love of God, Montresor!_"
+
+"Yes," I said, "for the love of God!"
+
+But to these words I hearkened in vain for a reply. I grew impatient.
+I called aloud--
+
+"Fortunato!"
+
+No answer. I called again--
+
+"Fortunato--"
+
+No answer still. I thrust a torch through the remaining aperture and
+let it fall within. There came forth in reply only a jingling of the
+bells. My heart grew sick on account of the dampness of the catacombs.
+I hastened to make an end of my labour. I forced the last stone into
+its position; I plastered it up. Against the new masonry I re-erected
+the old rampart of bones. For the half of a century no mortal has
+disturbed them. _In pace requiescat!_
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of First Gutenberg Collection of Edgar
+Allan Poe, by Edgar Allan Poe
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1062 ***