the works of edgar allan poe-3-第50节

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life　　ah；　more　fair　for　the　daughters　of　heaven　and　death！〃

I　kissed　her　forehead；　and　she　continued：

〃I　am　dying；　yet　shall　I　live。〃

〃Morella！〃

〃The　days　have　never　been　when　thou　couldst　love　me　　but　her　whom
in　life　thou　didst　abhor；　in　death　thou　shalt　adore。〃

〃Morella！〃

〃I　repeat　I　am　dying。　But　within　me　is　a　pledge　of　that　affection　
ah；　how　little！　　which　thou　didst　feel　for　me；　Morella。　And　when　my
spirit　departs　shall　the　child　live　　thy　child　and　mine；　Morella's。
But　thy　days　shall　be　days　of　sorrow　　that　sorrow　which　is　the　most
lasting　of　impressions；　as　the　cypress　is　the　most　enduring　of　trees。
For　the　hours　of　thy　happiness　are　over　and　joy　is　not　gathered　twice
in　a　life；　as　the　roses　of　Paestum　twice　in　a　year。　Thou　shalt　no
longer；　then；　play　the　Teian　with　time；　but；　being　ignorant　of　the
myrtle　and　the　vine；　thou　shalt　bear　about　with　thee　thy　shroud　on
the　earth；　as　do　the　Moslemin　at　Mecca。〃

〃Morella！〃　I　cried；　〃Morella！　how　knowest　thou　this？〃　but　she　turned
away　her　face　upon　the　pillow　and　a　slight　tremor　coming　over　her
limbs；　she　thus　died；　and　I　heard　her　voice　no　more。

Yet；　as　she　had　foretold；　her　child；　to　which　in　dying　she　had　given
birth；　which　breathed　not　until　the　mother　breathed　no　more；　her
child；　a　daughter；　lived。　And　she　grew　strangely　in　stature　and
intellect；　and　was　the　perfect　resemblance　of　her　who　had　departed；
and　I　loved　her　with　a　love　more　fervent　than　I　had　believed　it
possible　to　feel　for　any　denizen　of　earth。

But；　ere　long　the　heaven　of　this　pure　affection　became　darkened；　and
gloom；　and　horror；　and　grief　swept　over　it　in　clouds。　I　said　the
child　grew　strangely　in　stature　and　intelligence。　Strange；　indeed；
was　her　rapid　increase　in　bodily　size；　but　terrible；　oh！　terrible
were　the　tumultuous　thoughts　which　crowded　upon　me　while　watching　the
development　of　her　mental　being。　Could　it　be　otherwise；　when　I　daily
discovered　in　the　conceptions　of　the　child　the　adult　powers　and
faculties　of　the　woman？　when　the　lessons　of　experience　fell　from　the
lips　of　infancy？　and　when　the　wisdom　or　the　passions　of　maturity　I
found　hourly　gleaming　from　its　full　and　speculative　eye？　When；　I　say；
all　this　beeame　evident　to　my　appalled　senses；　when　I　could　no　longer
hide　it　from　my　soul；　nor　throw　it　off　from　those　perceptions　which
trembled　to　receive　it；　is　it　to　be　wondered　at　that　suspicions；　of　a
nature　fearful　and　exciting；　crept　in　upon　my　spirit；　or　that　my
thoughts　fell　back　aghast　upon　the　wild　tales　and　thrilling　theories
of　the　entombed　Morella？　I　snatched　from　the　scrutiny　of　the　world　a
being　whom　destiny　compelled　me　to　adore；　and　in　the　rigorous
seclusion　of　my　home；　watched　with　an　agonizing　anxiety　over　all
which　concerned　the　beloved。

And　as　years　rolled　away；　and　I　gazed　day　after　day　upon　her　holy；
and　mild；　and　eloquent　face；　and　poured　over　her　maturing　form；　day
after　day　did　I　discover　new　points　of　resemblance　in　the　child　to
her　mother；　the　melancholy　and　the　dead。　And　hourly　grew　darker　these
shadows　of　similitude；　and　more　full；　and　more　definite；　and　more
perplexing；　and　more　hideously　terrible　in　their　aspect。　For　that　her
smile　was　like　her　mother's　I　could　bear；　but　then　I　shuddered　at　its
too　perfect　identity；　that　her　eyes　were　like　Morella's　I　could
endure；　but　then　they；　too；　often　looked　down　into　the　depths　of　my
soul　with　Morella's　own　intense　and　bewildering　meaning。　And　in　the
contour　of　the　high　forehead；　and　in　the　ringlets　of　the　silken　hair；
and　in　the　wan　fingers　which　buried　themselves　therein；　and　in　the
sad　musical　tones　of　her　speech；　and　above　all　　oh；　above　all；　in
the　phrases　and　expressions　of　the　dead　on　the　lips　of　the　loved　and
the　living；　I　found　food　for　consuming　thought　and　horror；　for　a　worm
that　would　not　die。

Thus　passed　away　two　lustra　of　her　life；　and　as　yet　my　daughter
remained　nameless　upon　the　earth。　〃My　child；〃　and　〃my　love；〃　were　the
designations　usually　prompted　by　a　father's　affection；　and　the　rigid
seclusion　of　her　days　precluded　all　other　intercourse。　Morella's　name
died　with　her　at　her　death。　Of　the　mother　I　had　never　spoken　to　the
daughter；　it　was　impossible　to　speak。　Indeed；　during　the　brief　period
of　her　existence；　the　latter　had　received　no　impressions　from　the
outward　world；　save　such　as　might　have　been　afforded　by　the　narrow
limits　of　her　privacy。　But　at　length　the　ceremony　of　baptism
presented　to　my　mind；　in　its　unnerved　and　agitated　condition；　a
present　deliverance　from　the　terrors　of　my　destiny。　And　at　the
baptismal　font　I　hesitated　for　a　name。　And　many　titles　of　the　wise
and　beautiful；　of　old　and　modern　times；　of　my　own　and　foreign　lands；
came　thronging　to　my　lips；　with　many；　many　fair　titles　of　the　gentle；
and　the　happy；　and　the　good。　What　prompted　me　then　to　disturb　the
memory　of　the　buried　dead？　What　demon　urged　me　to　breathe　that　sound；
which　in　its　very　recollection　was　wont　to　make　ebb　the　purple　blood
in　torrents　from　the　temples　to　the　heart？　What　fiend　spoke　from　the
recesses　of　my　soul；　when　amid　those　dim　aisles；　and　in　the　silence
of　the　night；　I　whispered　within　the　ears　of　the　holy　man　the
syllables　　Morella？　What　more　than　fiend　convulsed　the　features　of
my　child；　and　overspread　them　with　hues　of　death；　as　starting　at　that
scarcely　audible　sound；　she　turned　her　glassy　eyes　from　the　earth　to
heaven；　and　falling　prostrate　on　the　black　slabs　of　our　ancestral
vault；　responded　　〃I　am　here！〃

Distinct；　coldly；　calmly　distinct；　fell　those　few　simple　sounds
within　my　ear；　and　thence　like　molten　lead　rolled　hissingly　into　my
brain。　Years　　years　may　pass　away；　but　the　memory　of　that　epoch
never。　Nor　was　I　indeed　ignorant　of　the　flowers　and　the　vine　　but
the　hemlock　and　the　cypress　overshadowed　me　night　and　day。　And　I　kept
no　reckoning　of　time　or　place；　and　the　stars　of　my　fate　faded　from
heaven；　and　therefore　the　earth　grew　dark；　and　its　figures　passed　by
me　like　flitting　shadows；　and　among　them　all　I　beheld　only　
Morella。　The　winds　of　the　firmament　breathed　but　one　sound　within　my
ears；　and　the　ripples　upon　the　sea　murmured　evermore　　Morella。　But
she　died；　and　with　my　own　hands　I　bore　her　to　the　tomb；　and　I　laughed
with　a　long　and　bitter　laugh　as　I　found　no　traces　of　the　first　in　the
channel　where　I　laid　the　second。　　Morella。

~~~　End　of　Text　~~~



A　TALE　OF　THE　RAGGED　MOUNTAINS

DURING　the　fall　of　the　year　1827；　while　residing　near
Charlottesville；　Virginia；　I　casually　made　the　acquaintance　of　Mr。
Augustus　Bedloe。　This　young　gentleman　was　remarkable　in　every
respect；　and　excited　in　me　a　profound　interest　and　curiosity。　I　found
it　impossible　to　comprehend　him　either　in　his　moral　or　his　physical
relations。　Of　his　family　I　could　obtain　no　satisfactory　account。
Whence　he　came；　I　never　ascertained。　Even　about　his　age　　although　I
call　him　a　young　gentleman　　there　was　something　which　perplexed　me
in　no　little　degree。　He　certainly　seemed　young　　and　he　made　a　point
of　speaking　about　his　youth　　yet　there　were　moments　when　I　should
have　had　little　trouble　in　imagining　him　a　hundred　years　of　age。　But
in　no　regard　was　he　more　peculiar　than　in　his　personal　appearance。　He
was　singularly　tall　and　thin。　He　stooped　much。　His　limbs　were
exceedingly　long　and　emaciated。　His　forehead　was　broad　and　low。　His
complexion　was　absolutely　bloodless。　His　mouth　was　large　and
flexible；　and　his　teeth　were　more　wildly　uneven；　although　sound；　than
I　had　ever　before　seen　teeth　in　a　human　head。　The　expression　of　his
smile；　however；　was　by　no　means　unpleasing；　as　might　be　supposed；　but
it　had　no　variation　whatever。　It　was　one　of　profound　melancholy　　of
a　phaseless　and　unceasing　gloom。　His　eyes　were　abnormally　large；　and
round　like　those　of　a　cat。　The　pupils；　too；　upon　any　accession　or
diminution　of　light；　underwent　contraction　or　dilation；　just　such　as
is　observed　in　the　feline　tribe。　In　moments　of　excitement　the　orbs
grew　bright　to　a　degree　almost　inconceivable；　seeming　to　emit
luminous　rays；　not　of　a　reflected　but　of　an　intrinsic　lustre；　as　does
a　candle　or　the　sun；　yet　their　ordinary　condition　was　so　totally
vapid；　filmy；　and　dull　as　to　convey　the　idea　of　the　eyes　of　a
long…interred　corpse。

These　peculiarities　of　person　appeared　to　cause　him　much　annoyance；
and　he　was　continually　alluding　to　them　in　a　sort　of　half
explanatory；　half　apologetic　strain；　which；　when　I　first　heard　it；
impressed　me　very　painfully。　I　soon；　however；　grew　accustomed　to　it；
and　my　uneasiness　wore　off。　It　seemed　to　be　his　design　rather　to
insinuate　than　directly　to　assert　that；　physically；　he　had　not　always
been　what　he　was　　that　a　long　series　of　neuralgic　attacks　had
reduced　him　from　a　condition　of　more　than　usual　personal　beauty；　to
that　which　I　saw。　For　many　years　past　he　had　been　attended　by　a
physician；　named　Templeton　　an　old　gentleman；　perhaps　seventy　years
of　age　　whom　he　had　first　encountered　at　Saratoga；　and　from　whose
attention；　while　there；　he　either　received；　or　fancied　that　he
received；　great　benefit。　The　result　was　that　Bedloe；　who　was　wealthy；
had　made　an　arrangement　with　Dr。　Templeton；　by　which　the　latter；　in
consideration　of　a　liberal　annual　allowance；　had　consented　to　devote
his　time　and