TRUE! - nervous -
very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that
I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses - not destroyed - not dulled
them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the
heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad?
Hearken! and observe how healthily - how calmly I can tell you the whole
story.
It is impossible to
say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me
day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the
old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his
gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! yes, it was this! He had the
eye of a vulture - a pale blue eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell
upon me, my blood ran cold; and so by degrees - very gradually - I made up
my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye
forever.
Now this is the
point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me.
You should have seen how wisely I proceeded - with what caution - with
what foresight - with what dissimulation I went to work! I was never
kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed him. And
every night, about midnight, I turned the latch of his door and opened it
- oh so gently! And then, when I had made an opening sufficient for my
head, I put in a dark lantern, all closed, closed, that no light shone
out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how
cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly - very, very slowly, so that I
might not disturb the old man's sleep. It took me an hour to place my
whole head within the opening so far that I could see him as he lay upon
his bed. Ha! would a madman have been so wise as this, And then, when my
head was well in the room, I undid the lantern cautiously-oh, so
cautiously - cautiously (for the hinges creaked) - I undid it just so much
that a single thin ray fell upon the vulture eye. And this I did for seven
long nights - every night just at midnight - but I found the eye always
closed; and so it was impossible to do the work; for it was not the old
man who vexed me, but his Evil Eye. And every morning, when the day broke,
I went boldly into the chamber, and spoke courageously to him, calling him
by name in a hearty tone, and inquiring how he has passed the night. So
you see he would have been a very profound old man, indeed, to suspect
that every night, just at twelve, I looked in upon him while he slept.
Upon the eighth night
I was more than usually cautious in opening the door. A watch's minute
hand moves more quickly than did mine. Never before that night had I felt
the extent of my own powers - of my sagacity. I could scarcely contain my
feelings of triumph. To think that there I was, opening the door, little
by little, and he not even to dream of my secret deeds or thoughts. I
fairly chuckled at the idea; and perhaps he heard me; for he moved on the
bed suddenly, as if startled. Now you may think that I drew back - but no.
His room was as black as pitch with the thick darkness, (for the shutters
were close fastened, through fear of robbers,) and so I knew that he could
not see the opening of the door, and I kept pushing it on steadily,
steadily.
I had my head in, and
was about to open the lantern, when my thumb slipped upon the tin
fastening, and the old man sprang up in bed, crying out - "Who's there?"
I kept quite still
and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a muscle, and in the
meantime I did not hear him lie down. He was still sitting up in the bed
listening; - just as I have done, night after night, hearkening to the
death watches in the wall.
Presently I heard a
slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror. It was not a
groan of pain or of grief - oh, no! - it was the low stifled sound that
arises from the bottom of the soul when overcharged with awe. I knew the
sound well. Many a night, just at midnight, when all the world slept, it
has welled up from my own bosom, deepening, with its dreadful echo, the
terrors that distracted me. I say I knew it well. I knew what the old man
felt, and pitied him, although I chuckled at heart. I knew that he had
been lying awake ever since the first slight noise, when he had turned in
the bed. His fears had been ever since growing upon him. He had been
trying to fancy them causeless, but could not. He had been saying to
himself - "It is nothing but the wind in the chimney - it is only a mouse
crossing the floor," or "It is merely a cricket which has made a single
chirp." Yes, he had been trying to comfort himself with these
suppositions: but he had found all in vain. All in vain; because Death, in
approaching him had stalked with his black shadow before him, and
enveloped the victim. And it was the mournful influence of the unperceived
shadow that caused him to feel - although he neither saw nor heard - to
feel the presence of my head within the room.
When I had waited a
long time, very patiently, without hearing him lie down, I resolved to
open a little - a very, very little crevice in the lantern. So I opened it
- you cannot imagine how stealthily, stealthily - until, at length a
simple dim ray, like the thread of the spider, shot from out the crevice
and fell full upon the vulture eye.
It was open - wide,
wide open - and I grew furious as I gazed upon it. I saw it with perfect
distinctness - all a dull blue, with a hideous veil over it that chilled
the very marrow in my bones; but I could see nothing else of the old man's
face or person: for I had directed the ray as if by instinct, precisely
upon the damned spot.
And have I not told
you that what you mistake for madness is but over-acuteness of the sense?
- now, I say, there came to my ears a low, dull, quick sound, such as a
watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I knew that sound well, too. It was
the beating of the old man's heart. It increased my fury, as the beating
of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage.
But even yet I
refrained and kept still. I scarcely breathed. I held the lantern
motionless. I tried how steadily I could maintain the ray upon the eve.
Meantime the hellish tattoo of the heart increased. It grew quicker and
quicker, and louder and louder every instant. The old man's terror must
have been extreme! It grew louder, I say, louder every moment! - do you
mark me well I have told you that I am nervous: so I am. And now at the
dead hour of the night, amid the dreadful silence of that old house, so
strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable terror. Yet, for some
minutes longer I refrained and stood still. But the beating grew louder,
louder! I thought the heart must burst. And now a new anxiety seized me -
the sound would be heard by a neighbour! The old man's hour had come! With
a loud yell, I threw open the lantern and leaped into the room. He
shrieked once - once only. In an instant I dragged him to the floor, and
pulled the heavy bed over him. I then smiled gaily, to find the deed so
far done. But, for many minutes, the heart beat on with a muffled sound.
This, however, did not vex me; it would not be heard through the wall. At
length it ceased. The old man was dead. I removed the bed and examined the
corpse. Yes, he was stone, stone dead. I placed my hand upon the heart and
held it there many minutes. There was no pulsation. He was stone dead. His
eve would trouble me no more.
If still you think me
mad, you will think so no longer when I describe the wise precautions I
took for the concealment of the body. The night waned, and I worked
hastily, but in silence. First of all I dismembered the corpse. I cut off
the head and the arms and the legs.
I then took up three
planks from the flooring of the chamber, and deposited all between the
scantlings. I then replaced the boards so cleverly, so cunningly, that no
human eye - not even his - could have detected any thing wrong. There was
nothing to wash out - no stain of any kind - no blood-spot whatever. I had
been too wary for that. A tub had caught all - ha! ha!
When I had made an
end of these labors, it was four o'clock - still dark as midnight. As the
bell sounded the hour, there came a knocking at the street door. I went
down to open it with a light heart, - for what had I now to fear? There
entered three men, who introduced themselves, with perfect suavity, as
officers of the police. A shriek had been heard by a neighbour during the
night; suspicion of foul play had been aroused; information had been
lodged at the police office, and they (the officers) had been deputed to
search the premises.
I smiled, - for what
had I to fear? I bade the gentlemen welcome. The shriek, I said, was my
own in a dream. The old man, I mentioned, was absent in the country. I
took my visitors all over the house. I bade them search - search well. I
led them, at length, to his chamber. I showed them his treasures, secure,
undisturbed. In the enthusiasm of my confidence, I brought chairs into the
room, and desired them here to rest from their fatigues, while I myself,
in the wild audacity of my perfect triumph, placed my own seat upon the
very spot beneath which reposed the corpse of the victim.
The officers were
satisfied. My manner had convinced them. I was singularly at ease. They
sat, and while I answered cheerily, they chatted of familiar things. But,
ere long, I felt myself getting pale and wished them gone. My head ached,
and I fancied a ringing in my ears: but still they sat and still chatted.
The ringing became more distinct: - It continued and became more distinct:
I talked more freely to get rid of the feeling: but it continued and
gained definiteness - until, at length, I found that the noise was not
within my ears.
No doubt I now grew
very pale; - but I talked more fluently, and with a heightened voice. Yet
the sound increased - and what could I do? It was a low, dull, quick sound
- much such a sound as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I gasped
for breath - and yet the officers heard it not. I talked more quickly -
more vehemently; but the noise steadily increased. I arose and argued
about trifles, in a high key and with violent gesticulations; but the
noise steadily increased. Why would they not be gone? I paced the floor to
and fro with heavy strides, as if excited to fury by the observations of
the men - but the noise steadily increased. Oh God! what could I do? I
foamed - I raved - I swore! I swung the chair upon which I had been
sitting, and grated it upon the boards, but the noise arose over all and
continually increased. It grew louder - louder - louder! And still the men
chatted pleasantly, and smiled. Was it possible they heard not? Almighty
God! - no, no! They heard! - they suspected! - they knew! - they were
making a mockery of my horror!-this I thought, and this I think. But
anything was better than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than this
derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I
must scream or die! and now - again! - hark! louder! louder! louder!
louder!
"Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no
more! I admit the deed! - tear up the planks! here, here! - It is the
beating of his hideous heart!"
None of the authors in this selection lived very long.
Poe (1809 to 1849) was thrown out of his adoptive father's home for
running up gambling debts. He was thrown out of the army for neglect
of duty. He married his 13 year old cousin and she died of TB in her
mid-twenties. Two years later Poe died from alcohol abuse
after being found unconscious in a gutter.
All original material on this website is by Gregory Norris. The
website was last updated on
28/01/2007.