The Tell-Tale Heart - The Pioneer, January 1843 — reading text

suggest, we will not stop to con- all his satyrs come to join the revels! Then sider. ‘The very difficulty of executing a piece a long, loud burst—in unison, on | sharp, — of such breadth and energy and rapidity helps with all its chords reverberated in swift succes- out its true expression. Just as your wrists and sion, and dying into a murmur, as if they had fingers, if you try to play it on the piano, begin reached the acme of mad-cap enthusiasm ; and to give out, the music itself falters and pants stunning peals of merriment, and rough tumult- exhausted, then gathers itself up by short, uous embraces, and tossing up of caps could go broken efforts, to rush forward in a fuller stream. no further. Another peal, and a return into This is exceedingly characteristic of Beethoven. the scherzo, and the grotesque revellers frolic What a determined, headlong energy is in his off the stage as they came on. movements! how his theme goes on, gathering The Finale (presto) is only a more serious ee SA up more and more force and fulness in its move- freak of madness — joy su possessed and fran- ment, piling chord upon chord, climbing, climb- tic, that it must vent itself or die. It reminds ing, like accumulated waves, which break and us of those states of mind, in our highest com- all fall back; then gather themselves again for munion with nature, when song and prayer, the onset, and climbing by half-tones through and inward still delight, and rapturous looks all the chords, burst through, and lo the sea is and words are not enough, but it becomes an smooth, and we sail along in the sweetest animal impulse, and away we plunge through ge Fa eR oR= buoyant measure, triumphing with the theme. swaimps 2nd thicket, hill and vale, and run till asg After this first furv of joy has spent itself, we can run no more, and kind fatigue and sleep the serene and thoughtful Larghettv commences, deliver us. It is very despair of utterance, »yit ~ in the childlike, happy key of A major. The and ends with the acknowledgment, as it were, theme is given first by the delicious quartette of that faith can feel, but neither word nor action stringed instruments, which seems the full quite express the depth and riches of our life. heart’s pious, cheerful hymn of gratitude, in a (TO BE CONTINUED.) gentle, equable narrative style, as if recounting  THE TELL-TALE HEART. 29 LONGING. ———_— BY W. W. STORY. Wiru weary heart, and dreary eye, He gazed into the lonely night, Hour after hour dragged slowly by, The shadows changed from left to right. The solemn earth, the stars’ sharp gleam, The yearning wind’s low ebb and swell, All things were but a mystic dream, A riddle that he could not spell. What is the worth of human art, If the weak tongue can never speak That which lies heavy on the heart, Even though the heavy heart should break. a i THE TELL-TALE HEART. BY EDGAR A. POE. Art is long and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave. Long fellow. True ! —nervous—very, very dreadfully seen me. You should have seen how wisely I nervous I had been, and am; but why wid/ you proceeded — with what caution — with what say that] am mad?! The disease had sharp- foresight — with what dissimulation I went to ened my senses — not destroyed —not dulled work! I was never kinder to the old man than them. Above all was the sense of hearing during the whole week before I killed him. acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in And every night, about midnight, I turned the the earth. Iheard many thingsinhell. How, latch of his door and opened it — oh so gently ! then, am I mad? Harken! and observe how And then, when I had made an opening suffi- healthily — how calmly I can tell you the whole cient for my head, I first put in a dark lantern, story. all closed, closed, so that no light shone out, It is impossible to say how first the idea en- and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would tered my brain ; but, once conceived, it haunted have laughed to see how cunningly [| thrust it me day and night. Object there. was none. in! I moved it slowly — very, very slowly, Passion there was none. I loved the old man. so that I might not disturb the old man’s sleep. He had never wronged me. He had never It took me an hour to place my whole head given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. within the opening so far that I could see the I think it was his eye !— yes, it wasthis! He old man as he lay upon his bed. Ha! — would had the eye of a vulwwre —a pale blue eye, a madman have been so wise as this? And with a film over it. ‘Whenever it fell upon me, then, when my head was well in the room,I my blood ran cold ; and so, by degrees — very undid the lantern cautiously—oh, so cau- gradually —I made up my mind tiously (for the hinges creaked)—I undid to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the it just so much that a single thin ray fell upon eye forever. the vulture eye. And this I did for seven Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. long nights — every night just at midnight— Madmen know nothing. But you should have | but I found the eye always closed; and so it  30 THE PIONEER. ere ee was impossible to do the work ; for it was not neither saw nor heard me—to feel the pres- the old man who vexed me, but his Evil Eye. ence of my head within the room. And every morning, when the day broke, I When I had waited a long time, very pa- went boldly into his chamber, and spoke coura- tiently, without hearing the old man lie down, —— — geously to him, calling him by name in a hearty I resolved to open a litthe—a very, very little tone, and inquiring how he had passed the crevice in the lantern. So I opened it — you night. So you see he would have been a very cannot imagine how stealthily, stealthily — until, ote SEED profound old man, indeed, to suspect that every at length, a single dim ray, like the thread of SS ie ay pe nae night, just at twelve, I looked in upon him the spider, shot from out the crevice and fell while he slept. full upon the vulture eye. Upon the eighth night I was more than usu- It was open — wide, wide open — and I grew ally cautious in opening the door. A watch’s furious as | gazed upon it. I saw it with per- ipo = cSSas minute-hand moves more quickly than did mine. fect distinctness— al] a dull blue, with a hide- EE SS EE Never, before that night, had I fe/t the extent ous veil over it that chilled the very marrow in of my own powers—of my sagacity. I could my bones ; but I could see nothing else of the eee - scarcely contain my feelings of triumph. To old man’s face or person; for [ had directed the think that there I was, opening the door, little SaaS ray, as if by instinct, precisely upon the damned by little, and the old man not even to dream of spot. my secret deeds or thoughts. I fairly chuckled And now — have I not told you that what at the idea. And perhaps the old man heard you mistake for madness is but over acuteness me; for he moved in the bed suddenly, as if of the senses! — now, I say, there came to my startled. Now you may think that I drew ears a low, dull, quick sound —much such a back —but no. His room was as black as sound as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. pitch with the thick darkness, (for the shutters I knew that sound well, too. It was the beat- were close fastened, through fear of robbers,) ing of the old man’s heart. It increased my and so I knew that he could not see the opening fury, as the beating of a drum stimulates the of the door, and I kept on pushing it steadily, soldier into courage. steadily. But even yet I| refrained and kept still. J I had got my head in, und was about to open scarcely breathed. I held the lantern motion- the lantern, when my thumb slipped upon the less. I tried how steadily I could maintain the tin fastening, and the old man sprang up in the ray upon the eye. Meantime the hellish tattoo bed, crying out — ‘‘ Who’s there? ”’ of the heart increased. It grew quicker, and I kept quite still and said nothing. For an- louder and louder every instant. The old