Poe, Edgar Allen - The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe

by Volume 01-05 (lit)

  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 hearken

  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 reverie 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 colors

  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 moveable embellishments of the

  seven chambers, upon occasion of this great fete; 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 was 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-colored 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 indulge 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 rumor 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 license 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 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.

  ~~~ End of Text ~~~

  ======

  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 definitively 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 skilful 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 honor 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