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第45节

classic mystery and detective stories-第45节

小说: classic mystery and detective stories 字数: 每页4000字

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melodious smoothness of his voice made a frightful contrast to the

stony rigor of his features; and the fiendlike brilliancy of his

eyes。  〃Who are you; and whence come you?〃 said Stanton; in a tone

that was meant to be interrogatory and imperative; but which; from

his habits of squalid debility; was at once feeble and querulous。

His intellect had become affected by the gloom of his miserable

habitation; as the wretched inmate of a similar mansion; when

produced before a medical examiner; was reported to be a complete

Albino。His skin was bleached; his eyes turned white; he could not

bear the light; and; when exposed to it; he turned away with a

mixture of weakness and restlessness; more like the writhings of a

sick infant than the struggles of a man。



Such was Stanton's situation。  He was enfeebled now; and the power

of the enemy seemed without a possibility of opposition from either

his intellectual or corporeal powers。



        。        。        。        。        。



Of all their horrible dialogue; only these words were legible in

the manuscript; 〃You know me now。〃〃I always knew you。〃〃That is

false; you imagined you did; and that has been the cause of all the

wild     。      of the     。        。        。        。        。

。  of your finally being lodged in this mansion of misery; where

only I would seek; where only I can succor you。〃〃You; demon!〃

〃Demon!Harsh words!Was it a demon or a human being placed you

here?Listen to me; Stanton; nay; wrap not yourself in that

miserable blanket;that cannot shut out my words。  Believe me;

were you folded in thunder clouds; you must hear ME!  Stanton;

think of your misery。  These bare wallswhat do they present to

the intellect or to the senses?Whitewash; diversified with the

scrawls of charcoal or red chalk; that your happy predecessors have

left for you to trace over。  You have a taste for drawingI trust

it will improve。  And here's a grating; through which the sun

squints on you like a stepdame; and the breeze blows; as if it

meant to tantalize you with a sigh from that sweet mouth; whose

kiss you must never enjoy。  And where's your library;intellectual

man;traveled man?〃 he repeated in a tone of bitter derision;

〃where be your companions; your peaked men of countries; as your

favorite Shakespeare has it?  You must be content with the spider

and the rat; to crawl and scratch round your flock bed!  I have

known prisoners in the Bastille to feed them for companions;why

don't you begin your task?  I have known a spider to descend at the

tap of a finger; and a rat to come forth when the daily meal was

brought; to share it with his fellow prisoner!How delightful to

have vermin for your guests!  Aye; and when the feast fails them;

they make a meal of their entertainer!You shudder。Are you;

then; the first prisoner who has been devoured alive by the vermin

that infested his cell?Delightful banquet; not 'where you eat;

but where you are eaten'!  Your guests; however; will give you one

token of repentance while they feed; there will be gnashing of

teeth; and you shall hear it; and feel it too perchance!And then

for mealsOh you are daintily off!The soup that the cat has

lapped; and (as her progeny has probably contributed to the hell

broth) why not?  Then your hours of solitude; deliciously

diversified by the yell of famine; the howl of madness; the crash

of whips; and the broken…hearted sob of those who; like you; are

supposed; or DRIVEN mad by the crimes of others!Stanton; do you

imagine your reason can possibly hold out amid such scenes?

Supposing your reason was unimpaired; your health not destroyed;

suppose all this; which is; after all; more than fair supposition

can grant; guess the effect of the continuance of these scenes on

your senses alone。  A time will come; and soon; when; from mere

habit; you will echo the scream of every delirious wretch that

harbors near you; then you will pause; clasp your hands on your

throbbing head; and listen with horrible anxiety whether the scream

proceeded from YOU or THEM。  The time will come; when; from the

want of occupation; the listless and horrible vacancy of your

hours; you will feel as anxious to hear those shrieks; as you were

at first terrified to hear them;when you will watch for the

ravings of your next neighbor; as you would for a scene on the

stage。  All humanity will be extinguished in you。  The ravings of

these wretches will become at once your sport and your torture。

You will watch for the sounds; to mock them with the grimaces and

bellowings of a fiend。  The mind has a power of accommodating

itself to its situation; that you will experience in its most

frightful and deplorable efficacy。  Then comes the dreadful doubt

of one's own sanity; the terrible announcer that THAT doubt will

soon become fear; and THAT fear certainty。  Perhaps (still more

dreadful) the FEAR will at last become a HOPE;shut out from

society; watched by a brutal keeper; writhing with all the impotent

agony of an incarcerated mind; without communication and without

sympathy; unable to exchange ideas but with those whose ideas are

only the hideous specters of departed intellect; or even to hear

the welcome sound of the human voice; except to mistake it for the

howl of a fiend; and stop the ear desecrated by its intrusion;

then at last your fear will become a more fearful hope; you will

wish to become one of them; to escape the agony of consciousness。

As those who have long leaned over a precipice; have at last felt a

desire to plunge below; to relieve the intolerable temptation of

their giddiness;* you will hear them laugh amid their wildest

paroxysms; you will say; 'Doubtless those wretches have some

consolation; but I have none; my sanity is my greatest curse in

this abode of horrors。  They greedily devour their miserable meals;

while I loathe mine。  They sleep sometimes soundly; while my sleep

isworse than their waking。  They are revived every morning by

some delicious illusion of cunning madness; soothing them with the

hope of escaping; baffling or tormenting their keeper; my sanity

precludes all such hope。  I KNOW I NEVER CAN ESCAPE; and the

preservation of my faculties is only an aggravation of my

sufferings。  I have all their miseries;I have none of their

consolations。  They laugh;I hear them; would I could laugh like

them。'  You will try; and the very effort will be an invocation to

the demon of insanity to come and take full possession of you from

that moment forever。〃





* A fact; related to me by a person who was near committing suicide

in a similar situation; to escape what he called 〃the excruciating

torture of giddiness。〃





(There were other details; both of the menaces and temptations

employed by Melmoth; which are too horrible for insertion。  One of

them may serve for an instance。)



〃You think that the intellectual power is something distinct from

the vitality of the soul; or; in other words; that if even your

reason should be destroyed (which it nearly is); your soul might

yet enjoy beatitude in the full exercise of its enlarged and

exalted faculties; and all the clouds which obscured them be

dispelled by the Sun of Righteousness; in whose beams you hope to

bask forever and ever。  Now; without going into any metaphysical

subtleties about the distinction between mind and soul; experience

must teach you; that there can be no crime into which madmen would

not; and do not; precipitate themselves; mischief is their

occupation; malice their habit; murder their sport; and blasphemy

their delight。  Whether a soul in this state can be in a hopeful

one; it is for you to judge; but it seems to me; that with the loss

of reason (and reason cannot long be retained in this place) you

lose also the hope of immortality。Listen;〃 said the tempter;

pausing; 〃listen to the wretch who is raving near you; and whose

blasphemies might make a demon start。He was once an eminent

puritanical preacher。  Half the day he imagines himself in a

pulpit; denouncing damnation against Papists; Arminians; and even

Sublapsarians (he being a Supra…lapsarian himself)。  He foams; he

writhes; he gnashes his teeth; you would imagine him in the hell he

was painting; and that the fire and brimstone he is so lavish of

were actually exhaling from his jaws。  At night his creed

retaliates on him; he believes himself one of the reprobates he has

been all day denouncing; and curses God for the very decree he has

all day been glorifying Him for。



〃He; whom he has for twelve hours been vociferating 'is the

loveliest among ten thousand;' becomes the object of demoniac

hostility and execration。  He grapples with the iron posts of his

bed; and says he is rooting out the cross from the very foundations

of Calvary; and it is remarkable; that in proportion as his morning

exercises are intense; vivid; and eloquent; his nightly blasphemies

are outrageous and horrible。Hark!  Now he believes

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