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diff --git a/old/1062-8.txt b/old/1062-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..645199b --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1062-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1129 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of First Gutenberg Collection of Edgar Allan +Poe, by Edgar Allan Poe + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: First Gutenberg Collection of Edgar Allan Poe + +Author: Edgar Allan Poe + +Posting Date: June 6, 2010 [EBook #1062] +Release Date: October, 1997 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GUTENBERG COLLECTION--E. A. POE *** + + + + +Produced by Levent Kurnaz and Jose Menendez + + + + + + + +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 _fête_; 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 THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GUTENBERG COLLECTION--E. A. POE *** + +***** This file should be named 1062-8.txt or 1062-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/6/1062/ + +Produced by Levent Kurnaz and Jose Menendez + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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