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itself the icy chilliness； the livid hue； the intense rigidity； the
sunken outline； and all the loathsome peculiarities of that which has
been； for many days； a tenant of the tomb。
And again I sunk into visions of Ligeia and again； （what marvel
that I shudder while I write；） again there reached my ears a low sob
from the region of the ebony bed。 But why shall I minutely detail the
unspeakable horrors of that night？ Why shall I pause to relate how；
time after time； until near the period of the gray dawn； this hideous
drama of revivification was repeated； how each terrific relapse was
only into a sterner and apparently more irredeemable death； how each
agony wore the aspect of a struggle with some invisible foe； and how
each struggle was succeeded by I know not what of wild change in the
personal appearance of the corpse？ Let me hurry to a conclusion。
The greater part of the fearful night had worn away； and she who had
been dead； once again stirred and now more vigorously than
hitherto； although arousing from a dissolution more appalling in its
utter hopelessness than any。 I had long ceased to struggle or to
move； and remained sitting rigidly upon the ottoman； a helpless prey
to a whirl of violent emotions； of which extreme awe was perhaps the
least terrible； the least consuming。 The corpse； I repeat； stirred；
and now more vigorously than before。 The hues of life flushed up with
unwonted energy into the countenance the limbs relaxed and；
save that the eyelids were yet pressed heavily together； and that the
bandages and draperies of the grave still imparted their charnel
character to the figure； I might have dreamed that Rowena had indeed
shaken off； utterly； the fetters of Death。 But if this idea was not；
even then； altogether adopted； I could at least doubt no longer；
when； arising from the bed； tottering； with feeble steps； with closed
eyes； and with the manner of one bewildered in a dream； the thing
that was enshrouded advanced boldly and palpably into the middle of
the apartment。
I trembled not I stirred not for a crowd of unutterable fancies
connected with the air； the stature； the demeanor of the figure；
rushing hurriedly through my brain； had paralyzed had chilled me
into stone。 I stirred not but gazed upon the apparition。 There was
a mad disorder in my thoughts a tumult unappeasable。 Could it；
indeed； be the living Rowena who confronted me？ Could it indeed be
Rowena at all the fair…haired； the blue…eyed Lady Rowena Trevanion
of Tremaine？ Why； why should I doubt it？ The bandage lay heavily
about the mouth but then might it not be the mouth of the
breathing Lady of Tremaine？ And the cheeks…there were the roses as in
her noon of life yes； these might indeed be the fair cheeks of the
living Lady of Tremaine。 And the chin； with its dimples； as in
health； might it not be hers？ but had she then grown taller since
her malady？ What inexpressible madness seized me with that thought？
One bound； and I had reached her feet！ Shrinking from my touch； she
let fall from her head； unloosened； the ghastly cerements which had
confined it； and there streamed forth； into the rushing atmosphere of
the chamber； huge masses of long and dishevelled hair； it was blacker
than the raven wings of the midnight！ And now slowly opened the eyes
of the figure which stood before me。 〃Here then； at least；〃 I
shrieked aloud； 〃can I never can I never be mistaken these are
the full； and the black； and the wild eyes of my lost love of
the lady of the LADY LIGEIA。〃
~~~ End of Text ~~~
MORELLA
Itself； by itself； solely； one everlasting； and single。
PLATO： SYMPOS。
WITH a feeling of deep yet most singular affection I regarded my
friend Morella。 Thrown by accident into her society many years ago；
my soul from our first meeting； burned with fires it had never before
known； but the fires were not of Eros； and bitter and tormenting to
my spirit was the gradual conviction that I could in no manner define
their unusual meaning or regulate their vague intensity。 Yet we met；
and fate bound us together at the altar； and I never spoke of passion
nor thought of love。 She； however； shunned society； and； attaching
herself to me alone rendered me happy。 It is a happiness to wonder；
it is a happiness to dream。
Morella's erudition was profound。 As I hope to live； her talents were
of no common order her powers of mind were gigantic。 I felt this；
and； in many matters； became her pupil。 I soon； however； found that；
perhaps on account of her Presburg education； she placed before me a
number of those mystical writings which are usually considered the
mere dross of the early German literature。 These； for what reason I
could not imagine； were her favourite and constant study and that
in process of time they became my own； should be attributed to the
simple but effectual influence of habit and example。
In all this； if I err not； my reason had little to do。 My
convictions； or I forget myself； were in no manner acted upon by the
ideal； nor was any tincture of the mysticism which I read to be
discovered； unless I am greatly mistaken； either in my deeds or in my
thoughts。 Persuaded of this； I abandoned myself implicitly to the
guidance of my wife； and entered with an unflinching heart into the
intricacies of her studies。 And then then； when poring over
forbidden pages； I felt a forbidden spirit enkindling within me
would Morella place her cold hand upon my own； and rake up from the
ashes of a dead philosophy some low； singular words； whose strange
meaning burned themselves in upon my memory。 And then； hour after
hour； would I linger by her side； and dwell upon the music of her
voice； until at length its melody was tainted with terror； and there
fell a shadow upon my soul； and I grew pale； and shuddered inwardly
at those too unearthly tones。 And thus； joy suddenly faded into
horror； and the most beautiful became the most hideous； as Hinnon
became Ge…Henna。
It is unnecessary to state the exact character of those disquisitions
which； growing out of the volumes I have mentioned； formed； for so
long a time； almost the sole conversation of Morella and myself。 By
the learned in what might be termed theological morality they will be
readily conceived； and by the unlearned they would； at all events； be
little understood。 The wild Pantheism of Fichte； the modified
Paliggenedia of the Pythagoreans； and； above all； the doctrines of
Identity as urged by Schelling； were generally the points of
discussion presenting the most of beauty to the imaginative Morella。
That identity which is termed personal； Mr。 Locke； I think； truly
defines to consist in the saneness of rational being。 And since by
person we understand an intelligent essence having reason； and since
there is a consciousness which always accompanies thinking； it is
this which makes us all to be that which we call ourselves； thereby
distinguishing us from other beings that think； and giving us our
personal identity。 But the principium indivduationis； the notion of
that identity which at death is or is not lost for ever； was to me；
at all times； a consideration of intense interest； not more from the
perplexing and exciting nature of its consequences； than from the
marked and agitated manner in which Morella mentioned them。
But； indeed； the time had now arrived when the mystery of my wife's
manner oppressed me as a spell。 I could no longer bear the touch of
her wan fingers； nor the low tone of her musical language； nor the
lustre of her melancholy eyes。 And she knew all this； but did not
upbraid； she seemed conscious of my weakness or my folly； and；
smiling； called it fate。 She seemed also conscious of a cause； to me
unknown； for the gradual alienation of my regard； but she gave me no
hint or token of its nature。 Yet was she woman； and pined away daily。
In time the crimson spot settled steadily upon the cheek； and the
blue veins upon the pale forehead became prominent； and one instant
my nature melted into pity； but in； next I met the glance of her
meaning eyes； and then my soul sickened and became giddy with the
giddiness of one who gazes downward into some dreary and unfathomable
abyss。
Shall I then say that I longed with an earnest and consuming desire
for the moment of Morella's decease？ I did； but the fragile spirit
clung to its tenement of clay for many days； for many weeks and
irksome months； until my tortured nerves obtained the mastery over my
mind； and I grew furious through delay； and； with the heart of a
fiend； cursed the days and the hours and the bitter moments； which
seemed to lengthen and lengthen as her gentle life declined； like
shadows in the dying of the day。
But one autumnal evening； when the winds lay still in heaven； Morella
called me to her bedside。 There was a dim mist over all the earth；
and a warm glow upon the waters； and amid the rich October leaves of
the forest； a rainbow from the firmament had surely fallen。
〃It is a day of days；〃 she said； as I approached； 〃a day of all days
either to live or die。 It is a fair day for the sons of earth and
life ah； more fair for the daughters of heaven and death！〃
I kissed her forehead； and she con