Subscribe Google Whatsapp Pinterest Digg Linkedin Stumbleupon Vk Print Delicious Buffer Pocket Xing Tumblr Mail Yummly Telegram Flipboard Advertisement Christopher Lee, whose nearly year acting career spanned most of the 20th century and nearly all of the 21st century so far, saw numerous technological, cinematic, and cultural trends come and go but remained an institution all the while. His starring role in that last gave him his signature onscreen persona — he would go on to play the blood-sucking Count a total of ten times — but though he specialized in dark, villainous roles, his understanding of their essence meant his hundreds of performances transcended their eras, and often their material as well. Lee knew, in other words, what it meant to be frightening, ominous, or simply unsettling in a rich and intriguing way, and that knowledge can hardly have come without an appreciation for the enduring work of Edgar Allan Poe. Spanning two tapes, this recording includes not only "The Fall of the House of Usher" but "The Black Cat," "The Pit and the Pendulum," and "The Cask of Amontillado," all of which demonstrate not just Lee's ability to conjure up a spooky atmosphere with his voice alone, but his perfect suitability to the kind of language Poe used to tell his stories, always highly mannered even while hinting at the unspeakable depths below.
Sospite nunc patria, fracto nunc funeris antro, Mors ubi dira fuit vita salusque patent. The sentence, the dread sentence of death, was the last of distinct accentuation which reached my ears.
After that, the sound of the inquisitorial voices seemed merged in one dreamy indeterminate hum. This only for a brief period, for presently I heard no more. Yet, for a while, I saw, but with how terrible an exaggeration! I saw the lips of the black-robed judges. They appeared to me white--whiter than the sheet upon which I trace these words--and thin even to grotesqueness; thin with the intensity of their expression of firmness, of immovable resolution, of stern contempt of human torture.
I saw that the decrees of what to me was fate were still issuing from those lips. I saw them writhe with a deadly locution. I saw them fashion the syllables of my name, and I shuddered, because no sound succeeded.
I saw, too, for a few moments of delirious horror, the soft and nearly imperceptible waving of the sable draperies which enwrapped the walls of the apartment; and then my vision Pit and the pendelum upon the seven tall candles upon the table.
At first they wore the aspect of charity, and seemed white slender angels who would save me: And then there stole into my fancy, like a rich musical note, the thought of what sweet rest there must be in the grave. The thought came gently and stealthily, and it seemed long before it attained full appreciation; but just as my spirit came at length properly to feel and entertain it, the figures of the judges vanished, as if magically, from before me; the tall candles sank into nothingness; their flames went out utterly; the blackness of darkness superened; all sensations appeared swallowed up in a mad rushing descent as of the soul into Hades.
Then silence, and stillness, and night were the universe. I had swooned; but still will not say that all of consciousness was lost. What of it there remained I will not attempt to define, or even to describe; yet all was not lost.
In the deepest slumber--no! Even in the grave all was not lost. Else there is no immortality for man. Arousing from the most profound of slumbers, we break the gossamer web of some dream. Yet in a second afterwards so frail may that web have been we remember not that we have dreamed.
In the return to life from the swoon there are two stages; first, that of the sense of mental or spiritual; secondly, that of the sense of physical existence.
It seems probable that if, upon reaching the second stage, we could recall the impressions of the first, we should find these impressions eloquent in memories of the gulf beyond. And that gulf is, what?
How at least shall we distinguish its shadows from those of the tomb? But if the impressions of what I have termed the first stage are not at will recalled, yet, after long interval, do they not come unbidden, while we marvel whence they come?
He who has never swooned is not he who finds strange palaces and wildly familiar faces in coals that glow; is not he who beholds floating in mid-air the sad visions that the many may not view; is not he who ponders over the perfume of some novel flower; is not he whose brain grows bewildered with the meaning of some musical cadence which has never before arrested his attention.This bar-code number lets you verify that you're getting exactly the right version or edition of a book.
The digit and digit formats both work. The Pit and the Pendulum. by Edgar Allan Poe (published ) Impia tortorum longos hic turba furores Sanguinis innocui, non satiata, aluit.
Sospite nunc patria, fracto nunc funeris antro.
Full online text of The Pit and the Pendulum by Edgar Allan Poe. Other short stories by Edgar Allan Poe also available along with many . A summary of “The Pit and the Pendulum” () in Edgar Allan Poe's Poe’s Short Stories. Learn exactly what happened in this chapter, scene, or section of Poe’s Short Stories and what it means.
Perfect for acing essays, tests, and quizzes, as well as for writing lesson plans. The Pit and the Pendulum The Pit and the Pendulum By Edgar Allan Poe I almost fear to tell the world of what they did to me.
But tell I must, if only to warn others. You must hear of the Inquisition, of the trial, and of the torture -- these monstrosities that nearly destroyed me.
I shall tell you the. Clock Repair Archive for notes from the bench Please be aware that this is an archive of notes and specifications and as such is unedited and quite disorganized.