Mr. Thiesmeyers
English III American Literature
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The Pit and the Pendulum
The Pit and the Pendulum
Edgar
Allan Poe
I
WAS sick -- sick unto death with that long agony; and
when they at length unbound me, and I was permitted to sit, I felt that my
senses were leaving me. The sentence -- the dread sentence of death -- was the
last of distinct accentuation which reached my ears. After that, the sound of
the inquisitorial voices seemed merged in one dreamy indeterminate hum. It
conveyed to my soul the idea of revolution -- perhaps from its association in
fancy with the burr of a mill wheel. This only for a brief period; for
presently I heard no more. Yet, for a while, I saw; but with how terrible an
exaggeration! I saw the lips of the black-robed judges. They appeared to me
white -- whiter than the sheet upon which I trace these words -- and thin even
to grotesqueness; thin with the intensity of their expression of firmness -- of
immoveable resolution -- of stern contempt of human torture. I saw that the
decrees of what to me was Fate, were still issuing from those lips. I saw them
writhe with a deadly locution. I saw them fashion the syllables of my name; and
I shuddered because no sound succeeded. I saw, too, for a few moments of
delirious horror, the soft and nearly imperceptible waving of the sable
draperies which enwrapped the walls of the apartment. And then my vision fell
upon the seven tall candles upon the table. At first they wore the aspect of
charity, and seemed white and slender angels who would save me; but then, all
at once, there came a most deadly nausea over my spirit, and I felt every fibre in my frame thrill as if I had touched the wire of a
galvanic battery, while the angel forms became meaningless spectres,
with heads of flame, and I saw that from them there would be no help. And then
there stole into my fancy, like a rich musical note, the thought of what sweet
rest there must be in the grave. The thought came gently and stealthily, and it
seemed long before it attained full appreciation; but just as my spirit came at
length properly to feel and entertain it, the figures of the judges vanished,
as if magically, from before me; the tall candles sank into nothingness; their
flames went out utterly; the blackness of darkness supervened; all sensations
appeared swallowed up in a mad rushing descent as of the soul into Hades. Then
silence, and stillness, night were the universe.
I
had swooned; but still will not say that all of consciousness was lost. What of
it there remained I will not attempt to define, or even to describe; yet all
was not lost. In the deepest slumber -- no! In delirium -- no! In a swoon --
no! In death -- no! even in the grave all is not lost.
Else there is no immortality for man. Arousing from the most profound of
slumbers, we break the gossamer web of some dream. Yet in a second afterward,
(so frail may that web have been) we remember not that we have dreamed. In the
return to life from the swoon there are two stages; first, that of the sense of
mental or spiritual; secondly, that of the sense of physical, existence. It
seems probable that if, upon reaching the second stage, we could recall the
impressions of the first, we should find these impressions eloquent in memories
of the gulf beyond. And that gulf is -- what? How at least shall we distinguish
its shadows from those of the tomb? But if the impressions of what I have
termed the first stage, are not, at will, recalled,
yet, after long interval, do they not come unbidden, while we marvel whence
they come? He who has never swooned, is not he who finds strange palaces and
wildly familiar faces in coals that glow; is not he who beholds floating in
mid-air the sad visions that the many may not view; is not he who ponders over
the perfume of some novel flower -- is not he whose brain grows bewildered with
the meaning of some musical cadence which has never before arrested his
attention.
Amid
frequent and thoughtful endeavors to remember; amid earnest struggles to regather some token of the state of seeming nothingness
into which my soul had lapsed, there have been moments when I have dreamed of
success; there have been brief, very brief periods when I have conjured up
remembrances which the lucid reason of a later epoch assures me could have had
reference only to that condition of seeming unconsciousness. These shadows of
memory tell, indistinctly, of tall figures that lifted and bore me in silence
down -- down -- still down -- till a hideous
dizziness oppressed me at the mere idea of the interminableness of the descent.
They tell also of a vague horror at my heart, on account of that heart's
unnatural stillness. Then comes a sense of sudden
motionlessness throughout all things; as if those who bore me (a ghastly
train!) had outrun, in their descent, the limits of the limitless, and paused
from the wearisomeness of their toil. After this I call to mind flatness and
dampness; and then all is madness -- the madness of a memory which busies
itself among forbidden things.
Very
suddenly there came back to my soul motion and sound -- the tumultuous motion
of the heart, and, in my ears, the sound of its beating. Then a pause in which
all is blank. Then again sound, and motion, and touch -- a tingling sensation
pervading my frame. Then the mere consciousness of existence,
without thought -- a condition which lasted long. Then, very suddenly,
thought, and shuddering terror, and earnest endeavor to comprehend my true
state. Then a strong desire to lapse into insensibility.
Then a rushing revival of soul and a successful effort to
move. And now a full memory of the trial, of the
judges, of the sable draperies, of the sentence, of the sickness, of the swoon.
Then entire forgetfulness of all that followed; of all that a later day and
much earnestness of endeavor have enabled me vaguely to recall.
So
far, I had not opened my eyes. I felt that I lay upon my back, unbound. I
reached out my hand, and it fell heavily upon something damp and hard. There I
suffered it to remain for many minutes, while I strove to imagine where and
what I could be. I longed, yet dared not to employ my vision. I dreaded the
first glance at objects around me. It was not that I feared to look upon things
horrible, but that I grew aghast[1]
lest there should be nothing to see. At length, with a wild desperation at
heart, I quickly unclosed my eyes. My worst thoughts, then, were confirmed. The
blackness of eternal night encompassed me. I struggled for breath. The
intensity of the darkness seemed to oppress and stifle[2]
me. The atmosphere was intolerably close. I still lay quietly, and made effort
to exercise my reason. I brought to mind the inquisitorial proceedings, and
attempted from that point to deduce my real condition. The sentence had passed;
and it appeared to me that a very long interval of time had since elapsed. Yet
not for a moment did I suppose myself actually dead. Such a supposition[3],
notwithstanding what we read in fiction, is altogether inconsistent with real
existence; -- but where and in what state was I? The condemned to death, I
knew, perished usually at the autos-da-fe[4],
and one of these had been held on the very night of the day of my trial. Had I
been remanded[5]
to my dungeon, to await the next sacrifice, which would not take place for many
months? This I at once saw could not be. Victims had been in immediate demand.
Moreover, my dungeon, as well as all the condemned cells at Toledo[6],
had stone floors, and light was not altogether excluded.
A
fearful idea now suddenly drove the blood in torrents upon my heart, and for a
brief period, I once more relapsed into insensibility. Upon recovering, I at
once started to my feet, trembling convulsively in every fibre.
I thrust my arms wildly above and around me in all directions. I felt nothing;
yet dreaded to move a step, lest I should be impeded[7] by
the walls of a tomb. Perspiration burst from every pore, and stood in cold big
beads upon my forehead. The agony of suspense grew at length intolerable, and I
cautiously moved forward, with my arms extended, and my eyes straining from
their sockets, in the hope of catching some faint ray of light. I proceeded for
many paces; but still all was blackness and vacancy. I breathed more freely. It
seemed evident that mine was not, at least, the most hideous of fates.
And
now, as I still continued to step cautiously onward, there came thronging upon
my recollection a thousand vague rumors of the horrors of
My
outstretched hands at length encountered some solid obstruction. It was a wall,
seemingly of stone masonry[11]
-- very smooth, slimy, and cold. I followed it up; stepping with all the
careful distrust with which certain antique narratives had inspired me. This
process, however, afforded me no means of ascertaining[12]
the dimensions of my dungeon; as I might make its circuit, and return to the
point whence I set out, without being aware of the fact; so perfectly uniform
seemed the wall. I therefore sought the knife which had been in my pocket, when
led into the inquisitorial chamber; but it was gone; my clothes had been exchanged
for a wrapper of coarse serge[13].
I had thought of forcing the blade in some minute crevice of the masonry, so as
to identify my point of departure. The difficulty, nevertheless, was but
trivial; although, in the disorder of my fancy, it seemed at first insuperable[14].
I tore a part of the hem from the robe and placed the fragment at full length,
and at right angles to the wall. In groping my way around the prison, I could
not fail to encounter this rag upon completing the circuit. So, at least I
thought: but I had not counted upon the extent of the dungeon, or upon my own
weakness. The ground was moist and slippery. I staggered onward for some time,
when I stumbled and fell. My excessive fatigue induced me to remain prostrate[15];
and sleep soon overtook me as I lay.
Upon
awaking, and stretching forth an arm, I found beside me a loaf and a pitcher
with water. I was too much exhausted to reflect upon this circumstance, but ate
and drank with avidity[16].
Shortly afterward, I resumed my tour around the prison, and with much toil came
at last upon the fragment of the serge. Up to the period when I fell I had counted fifty-two paces, and upon resuming my
walk, I had counted forty-eight more; -- when I arrived at the rag. There were
in all, then, a hundred paces; and, admitting two paces to the yard, I presumed
the dungeon to be fifty yards in circuit. I had met, however, with many angles
in the wall, and thus I could form no guess at the shape of the vault; for
vault I could not help supposing it to be.
I
had little object -- certainly no hope these researches; but a vague curiosity
prompted me to continue them. Quitting the wall, I resolved to cross the area
of the enclosure. At first I proceeded with extreme
caution, for the floor, although seemingly of solid material, was treacherous
with slime. At length, however, I took courage, and did not hesitate to step
firmly; endeavoring to cross in as direct a line as possible. I had advanced
some ten or twelve paces in this manner, when the remnant of the torn hem of my
robe became entangled between my legs. I stepped on it, and fell violently on
my face.
In
the confusion attending my fall, I did not immediately apprehend a somewhat
startling circumstance, which yet, in a few seconds afterward, and while I
still lay prostrate, arrested my attention. It was this -- my chin rested upon
the floor of the prison, but my lips and the upper portion of my head, although
seemingly at a less elevation than the chin, touched nothing. At the same time
my forehead seemed bathed in a clammy vapor, and the peculiar smell of decayed
fungus arose to my nostrils. I put forward my arm, and shuddered to find that I
had fallen at the very brink of a circular pit, whose extent, of course, I had
no means of ascertaining at the moment. Groping about the masonry just below
the margin, I succeeded in dislodging a small fragment, and let it fall into
the abyss[17].
For many seconds I hearkened[18]
to its reverberations[19]
as it dashed against the sides of the chasm in its descent; at length there was
a sullen plunge into water, succeeded by loud echoes. At the same moment there
came a sound resembling the quick opening, and as rapid closing of a door
overhead, while a faint gleam of light flashed suddenly through the gloom, and
as suddenly faded away.
I
saw clearly the doom which had been prepared for me, and congratulated myself
upon the timely accident by which I had escaped. Another step before my fall,
and the world had seen me no more. And the death just avoided, was of that very
character which I had regarded as fabulous and frivolous[20]
in the tales respecting the Inquisition. To the victims of its tyranny, there
was the choice of death with its direst physical agonies, or death with its
most hideous moral horrors. I had been reserved for the latter[21].
By long suffering my nerves had been unstrung, until I trembled at the sound of
my own voice, and had become in every respect a fitting subject for the species
of torture which awaited me.
Shaking
in every limb, I groped my way back to the wall; resolving there to perish
rather than risk the terrors of the wells, of which my imagination now pictured
many in various positions about the dungeon. In other conditions of mind I
might have had courage to end my misery at once by a plunge into one of these
abysses; but now I was the veriest[22]
of cowards. Neither could I forget what I had read of these pits -- that the
sudden extinction of life formed no part of their most horrible plan.
Agitation[23] of spirit kept me awake for many long hours; but
at length I again slumbered[24].
Upon arousing[25],
I found by my side, as before, a loaf and a pitcher of water. A burning thirst
consumed me, and I emptied the vessel at a draught[26].
It must have been drugged; for scarcely had I drunk, before I became
irresistibly drowsy. A deep sleep fell upon me -- a sleep like that of death.
How long it lasted of course, I know not; but when, once again, I unclosed my
eyes, the objects around me were visible. By a wild sulphurous[27]
lustre[28],
the origin of which I could not at first determine, I was enabled to see the extent and aspect[29]
of the prison.
In
its size I had been greatly mistaken. The whole circuit of its walls did not
exceed twenty-five yards. For some minutes this fact occasioned me a world of vain[30]
trouble; vain indeed! for what could be of less
importance, under the terrible circumstances which environed[31]
me, than the mere dimensions of my dungeon? But my soul took a wild interest in
trifles, and I busied myself in endeavors to account for the error I had
committed in my measurement. The truth at length flashed upon me. In my first
attempt at exploration I had counted fifty-two paces, up to the period when I
fell; I must then have been within a pace or two of the fragment of serge; in
fact, I had nearly performed the circuit of the vault. I then slept, and upon
awaking, I must have returned upon my steps -- thus supposing the circuit
nearly double what it actually was. My confusion of mind prevented me from
observing that I began my tour with the wall to the left, and ended it with the
wall to the right.
I
had been deceived, too, in respect to the shape of the enclosure. In feeling my
way I had found many angles, and thus deduced[32]
an idea of great irregularity; so potent is the effect of total darkness upon
one arousing from lethargy[33]
or sleep! The angles were simply those of a few slight depressions, or niches,
at odd intervals. The general shape of the prison was square. What I had taken
for masonry seemed now to be iron, or some other metal, in huge plates, whose
sutures or joints occasioned the depression. The entire surface of this
metallic enclosure was rudely daubed[34]
in all the hideous and repulsive devices to which the charnel[35]
superstition of the monks has given rise. The figures of fiends in aspects of
menace, with skeleton forms, and other more really fearful images, overspread
and disfigured the walls. I observed that the outlines of these monstrosities
were sufficiently distinct, but that the colors seemed faded and blurred, as if
from the effects of a damp atmosphere. I now noticed the floor, too, which was
of stone. In the centre yawned the circular pit from
whose jaws I had escaped; but it was the only one in the dungeon.
All
this I saw indistinctly and by much effort: for my personal condition had been
greatly changed during slumber. I now lay upon my back, and at full length, on
a species of low framework of wood[36].
To this I was securely bound by a long strap resembling a surcingle[37].
It passed in many convolutions[38]
about my limbs and body, leaving at liberty only my head, and my left arm to
such extent that I could, by dint of[39]
much exertion, supply myself with food from an earthen
dish which lay by my side on the floor. I saw, to my horror, that the pitcher
had been removed. I say to my horror; for I was consumed with intolerable
thirst. This thirst it appeared to be the design of my persecutors to
stimulate: for the food in the dish was meat pungently[40]
seasoned.
Looking
upward, I surveyed the ceiling of my prison. It was some thirty or forty feet
overhead, and constructed much as the side walls. In one of its panels a very
singular figure riveted my whole attention. It was the painted figure of Time[41]
as he is commonly represented, save that, in
lieu[42]
of a scythe, he held what, at a casual glance, I
supposed to be the pictured image of a huge pendulum[43]
such as we see on antique clocks. There was something, however, in the
appearance of this machine which caused me to regard it more attentively. While
I gazed directly upward at it (for its position was immediately over my own) I
fancied that I saw it in motion. In an instant afterward the fancy was
confirmed. Its sweep was brief, and of course slow. I
watched it for some minutes, somewhat in fear, but more in wonder. Wearied at
length with observing its dull movement, I turned my eyes upon the other
objects in the cell.
A
slight noise attracted my notice, and, looking to the floor, I saw several
enormous rats traversing it. They had issued from the well, which lay just
within view to my right. Even then, while I gazed, they came up in troops,
hurriedly, with ravenous[44]
eyes, allured[45]
by the scent of the meat. From this it required much effort and attention to
scare them away.
It
might have been half an hour, perhaps even an hour, (for I could take but
imperfect note of time) before I again cast my eyes upward. What I then saw
confounded and amazed me. The sweep of the pendulum had increased in extent by
nearly a yard. As a natural consequence, its velocity was also much greater.
But what mainly disturbed me was the idea that had perceptibly descended. I now
observed -- with what horror it is needless to say -- that its nether[46]
extremity was formed of a crescent of glittering steel, about a foot in length
from horn to horn; the horns upward, and the under edge evidently as keen[47]
as that of a razor. Like a razor also, it seemed massy and heavy, tapering from
the edge into a solid and broad structure above. It was appended[48]
to a weighty rod of brass, and the whole hissed as it swung through the air.
I
could no longer doubt the doom prepared for me by monkish ingenuity in torture.
My cognizance[49]
of the pit had become known to the inquisitorial agents -- the pit whose
horrors had been destined for so bold a recusant[50]
as myself -- the pit, typical of hell, and regarded by rumor as the Ultima Thule[51]
of all their punishments. The plunge into this pit I had avoided by the merest
of accidents, I knew that surprise, or entrapment into torment, formed an
important portion of all the grotesquerie[52]
of these dungeon deaths. Having failed to fall, it was no part of the demon
plan to hurl me into the abyss; and thus (there being no alternative) a
different and a milder destruction awaited me. Milder! I half smiled in my
agony as I thought of such application of such a term.
What
boots it to tell of the long, long hours of horror more than mortal, during
which I counted the rushing vibrations of the steel! Inch by inch -- line by
line -- with a descent only appreciable at intervals that seemed ages -- down
and still down it came! Days passed -- it might have been that many days passed
-- ere it swept so closely over me as to fan me with its acrid[53]
breath. The odor of the sharp steel forced itself into my nostrils. I prayed --
I wearied heaven with my prayer for its more speedy descent. I grew frantically
mad, and struggled to force myself upward against the sweep of the fearful scimitar[54].
And then I fell suddenly calm, and lay smiling at the glittering death, as a
child at some rare bauble[55].
There
was another interval of utter insensibility; it was brief; for, upon again
lapsing into life there had been no perceptible descent in the pendulum. But it
might have been long; for I knew there were demons who took note of my swoon[56],
and who could have arrested the vibration at pleasure. Upon my recovery, too, I
felt very -- oh, inexpressibly sick and weak, as if through long inanition[57].
Even amid the agonies of that period, the human nature craved food. With
painful effort I outstretched my left arm as far as my bonds permitted, and
took possession of the small remnant which had been spared me by the rats. As I
put a portion of it within my lips, there rushed to my mind a half formed
thought of joy -- of hope. Yet what business had I with hope? It was, as I say,
a half formed thought -- man has many such which are never completed. I felt
that it was of joy -- of hope; but felt also that it had perished in its
formation. In vain I struggled to perfect -- to regain it. Long suffering had
nearly annihilated all my ordinary powers of mind. I was an imbecile -- an
idiot.
The
vibration of the pendulum was at right angles to my length. I saw that the
crescent was designed to cross the region of the heart. It would fray the serge of my robe -- it would return and repeat its operations
-- again -- and again. Notwithstanding its terrifically wide sweep (some thirty
feet or more) and the hissing vigor of its descent, sufficient to sunder these
very walls of iron, still the fraying[58]
of my robe would be all that, for several minutes, it would accomplish. And at
this thought I paused. I dared not go farther than this reflection. I dwelt
upon it with a pertinacity[59]
of attention -- as if, in so dwelling, I could arrest here the descent of the
steel. I forced myself to ponder upon the sound of the crescent as it should
pass across the garment -- upon the peculiar thrilling sensation which the
friction of cloth produces on the nerves. I pondered upon all this frivolity[60]
until my teeth were on edge.
Down
-- steadily down it crept. I took a frenzied pleasure in contrasting its
downward with its lateral velocity. To the right -- to the left -- far and wide
-- with the shriek of a damned spirit; to my heart with the stealthy pace of
the tiger! I alternately laughed and howled as the one or the other idea grew
predominant.
Down
-- certainly, relentlessly down! It vibrated within three inches of my bosom! I
struggled violently, furiously, to free my left arm. This was free only from
the elbow to the hand. I could reach the latter, from the platter beside me, to
my mouth, with great effort, but no farther. Could I have broken the fastenings
above the elbow, I would have seized and attempted to arrest the pendulum. I
might as well have attempted to arrest an avalanche!
Down
-- still unceasingly -- still inevitably down! I gasped and struggled at each
vibration. I shrunk convulsively at its every sweep. My eyes followed its
outward or upward whirls with the eagerness of the most unmeaning despair; they
closed themselves spasmodically[61]
at the descent, although death would have been a relief, oh! how
unspeakable! Still I quivered in every nerve to think how slight a sinking of
the machinery would precipitate[62]
that keen, glistening axe upon my bosom. It was hope that prompted the nerve to
quiver -- the frame to shrink. It was hope -- the hope that triumphs on the
rack -- that whispers to the death-condemned even in the dungeons of the
Inquisition.
I
saw that some ten or twelve vibrations would bring the steel in actual contact
with my robe, and with this observation there suddenly came over my spirit all
the keen, collected calmness of despair. For the first time during many hours
-- or perhaps days -- I thought. It now occurred to me that the bandage, or
surcingle, which enveloped me, was unique. I was tied by no separate cord. The
first stroke of the razorlike crescent athwart[63]
any portion of the band, would so detach it that it might be unwound from my
person by means of my left hand. But how fearful, in that case, the proximity
of the steel! The result of the slightest struggle how deadly! Was it likely,
moreover, that the minions of the torturer had not foreseen and provided for
this possibility! Was it probable that the bandage crossed my bosom in the
track of the pendulum? Dreading to find my faint, and, as it seemed, in last
hope frustrated, I so far elevated my head as to obtain a distinct view of my
breast. The surcingle enveloped my limbs and body close in all directions --
save in the path of the destroying crescent.
Scarcely
had I dropped my head back into its original position, when there flashed upon
my mind what I cannot better describe than as the unformed half of that idea of
deliverance to which I have previously alluded, and of which a moiety[64]
only floated indeterminately through my brain when I raised food to my burning
lips. The whole thought was now present -- feeble[65],
scarcely sane, scarcely definite, -- but still entire. I proceeded at once,
with the nervous energy of despair, to attempt its execution.
For
many hours the immediate vicinity of the low framework upon which I lay, had
been literally swarming with rats. They were wild, bold, ravenous;
their red eyes glaring upon me as if they waited but for motionlessness on my
part to make me their prey. "To what food," I thought, "have they
been accustomed in the well?"
They
had devoured, in spite of all my efforts to prevent them, all but a small
remnant of the contents of the dish. I had fallen into an
habitual see-saw, or wave of the hand about the platter: and, at length, the
unconscious uniformity of the movement deprived it of effect. In their voracity
the vermin frequently fastened their sharp fangs in my fingers. With the
particles of the oily and spicy viand[66]
which now remained, I thoroughly rubbed the bandage wherever I could reach it;
then, raising my hand from the floor, I lay breathlessly still.
At
first the ravenous animals were startled and terrified at the change -- at the cessation[67]
of movement. They shrank alarmedly back; many sought
the well. But this was only for a moment. I had not counted in vain upon their
voracity. Observing that I remained without motion, one or two of the boldest
leaped upon the frame-work, and smelt at the surcingle. This seemed the signal
for a general rush. Forth from the well they hurried in fresh troops. They
clung to the wood -- they overran it, and leaped in hundreds upon my person.
The measured movement of the pendulum disturbed them not at all. Avoiding its
strokes they busied themselves with the anointed[68]
bandage. They pressed -- they swarmed upon me in ever accumulating heaps. They
writhed upon my throat; their cold lips sought my own; I was half stifled[69]
by their thronging pressure; disgust, for which the world has no name, swelled my
bosom, and chilled, with a heavy clamminess, my heart. Yet one minute, and I
felt that the struggle would be over. Plainly I perceived the loosening of the
bandage. I knew that in more than one place it must be already severed. With a
more than human resolution I lay still.
Nor
had I erred in my calculations -- nor had I endured in vain. I at length felt
that I was free. The surcingle hung in ribands from
my body. But the stroke of the pendulum already pressed upon my bosom. It had
divided the serge of the robe. It had cut through the linen beneath. Twice
again it swung, and a sharp sense of pain shot through every nerve. But the
moment of escape had arrived. At a wave of my hand my deliverers hurried tumultuously[70]
away. With a steady movement -- cautious, sidelong, shrinking, and slow -- I
slid from the embrace of the bandage and beyond the reach of the scimitar. For
the moment, at least, I was free.
Free!
-- and in the grasp of the Inquisition! I had scarcely
stepped from my wooden bed of horror upon the stone floor of the prison, when
the motion of the hellish machine ceased and I beheld it drawn up, by some
invisible force, through the ceiling. This was a lesson which I took
desperately to heart. My every motion was undoubtedly watched. Free! -- I had but
escaped death in one form of agony, to be delivered unto worse than death in
some other. With that thought I rolled my eves nervously around on the barriers
of iron that hemmed me in. Something unusual -- some change which, at first, I
could not appreciate distinctly -- it was obvious, had taken place in the
apartment. For many minutes of a dreamy and trembling abstraction, I busied
myself in vain, unconnected conjecture[71].
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[72].
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[73]
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[74]
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[75]
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[76]
of men! I shrank from the glowing metal to the centre
of the cell. Amid the thought of the fiery destruction that impended[77],
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[78]
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[79].
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[80]
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[81]
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
Copyright thiesmeyer.net 2014
[1]
Aghast n. horrified/shocked
[2]
Stifle v. smother/suppress
[3]
Supposition n. assumption/theory/hypothesis
[4]
Autos-da-fe n. public trial where the condemned had a chance to
confess/repent
[5]
Remand v. to commit to custody
[6]
Toledo city in Spain, center of the Inquisition
[7]
Impeded v. stopped
[8]
Save prep. except
[9]
Perish v. to die
[10]
Subterranean adj. underground
[11]
Masonry n. stonework (bricks/clay/stone)
[12]
Ascertain v. to find/figure something out
[13]
Serge n. a durable wool fabric
[14]
Insuperable adj. impossible to overcome
[15]
Prostrate n. flat/horizontal
[16]
Avidity n. enthusiasm
[17]
Abyss n. a deep pit or chasm
[18]
Hearkened v. listened
[19]
Reverberations n. prolongation of a sound
[20]
Frivolous adj. not having any serious purpose or value
[21]
Latter adj. denoting the second or second mentioned of two people or things
[22]
Veriest adj. used to emphasize the degree to which a description applies to
someone or something
[23]
Agitation n. a state of anxiety or nervous excitement
[24]
Slumber v. to sleep
[25]
Arousing v. to awaken
[26]
Draught n. (pronounced draft) to drink deeply
[27]
Sulphurous adj. reddish-yellow in color (like fire or embers)
[28]
Lustre n. glow
[29]
Extent and aspect size
[30]
Vain adj. pointless
[31]
Environed v. surrounded/enclosed
[32]
Deduced v. figured out
[33]
Lethargy n. sleepiness
[34]
Daubed v. painted (poorly)
[35]
Charnel adj. associated with death
[36]
Species of low framework of wood like a low-lying cot
[37]
Surcingle n. a heavy leather strap used to secure a saddle
[38]
Convolutions n. a coil or twist
[39]
By dint of with much force
[40]
Pungent adj. having a sharp/strong flavor or odor
[41]
Time father time (typically depicted like the grim reaper) bringer of death
[42]
In lieu instead
[43]
Pendulum n. a weight hung from a fixed point so that it can swing freely
backward and forward, especially a rod with a weight at the end that regulates
the mechanism of a clock
[44]
Ravenous adj. extremely hungry
[45]
Allured v. attracted to
[46]
Nether adj. lower in position
[47]
Keen adj. sharp
[48]
Appended v. connected to
[49]
Cognizance n. knowledge
[50]
Recusant n. a person who refuses to submit to an authority (criminal)
[51]
Ultima Thule beyond comprehension
[52]
Grotesquerie n. things repulsively ugly/hideous
[53]
Acrid adj. having an irritatingly strong and unpleasant taste or smell
[54]
Scimitar n. a curved blade
[55]
Bauble n. a small, showy trinket (toy)
[56]
Swoon n. an occurrence of fainting
[57]
Inanition v. lack of mental or spiritual enthusiasm
[58]
Fraying v. unravelling of fabric or cord
[59]
Pertinacity n. persistent determination
[60]
Frivolity n. lack of seriousness
[61]
Spasmodically adv. In a spastic (involuntary) manner
[62]
Precipitate v. to cause an event to happen sudden or unexpectedly
[63]
Athwart prep. across
[64]
Moiety n. a part or portion (usually the lesser part)
[65]
Feeble adj. weak or underdeveloped
[66]
Viand n. an item of food
[67]
Cessation n. the stopping of
[68]
Anointed v. smeared or rubbed with oil (usually in religious services)
[69]
Stifled v. subdued or muffled
[70]
Tumultuously adv. In an excited or disorderly way
[71]
Conjecture v. the act of guessing (based on incomplete information)
[72]
Aperture n. gap or small opening
[73]
Spectral adj. ghostly
[74]
Lurid adj. bright/colorful
[75]
Diffused v. spread
[76]
Demoniac adj. in a demon-like way
[77]
Impended v. near at hand/about to happen
[78]
Enkindled adj. fiery
[79]
Ague n. an illness involving fever and shivering
[80]
Dallying v. acting or moving slowly
[81]
Discordant adj. a harsh, jarring sound