Tell Tale Heart Essay, Research Paper

TRUE!—- nervous—very,— very dreadfully nervous I had been — and am; but why will

you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses- not destroyed – not dulled them.

Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in heaven and on earth. I heard many

things below the earth.

How, then am I mad? Harken! and observe how healthily, how calmly I can tell you the whole

story.

It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted

me day –and night. Object—- there was none. Passion——-there was none. I loved the old man.

He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I

think—–it was——–his eye. Yes! it was this! One of his eyes resembled that of a vulture.—–a

pale blue eye——with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold. And so, by

degrees——very gradually—I made up my min to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself

of that eye——-forever.

Now this is the point. You fancy me Mad. Madmen know nothing! But you should have

seen me! You should seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded—–with what

Caution—with what foresight—with what dissimulation I went to work. I was never kinder to the

old man than during that the whole week before I killed him. And every night—–About

midnight—-I turned the latch of his door and opened it—Oh so gently. And then, when I had

made an opening sufficient for my head, I put in a dark lantern, all closed, closed, so that no light

shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I

thrust it in! I moved it slowly-very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb the old man?s sleep. It

took me an hour to place my whole head within the opening so far that I could see him as he lay

upon his bed. Ha!-would a madman have been so wise as this? And then, when my head was well

in the room, I undid the lantern cautiously-oh, so cautiously – for the hinges creaked. I undid it

just so much that a single thin ray fell upon the vulture eye. And this I did for seven long

nights-every night just at midnight-but I found the eye always closed; and so it was impossible to

do the work; for it was not the old man who vexed me, but his Evil Eye. And every morning,

when the day broke, I went boldly into the chamber, and spoke courageously to him calling him

by name in a hearty tone, and inquiring how he had passed the night. So you see he would have

been a very profound old man, indeed, to suspect that every night, just at twelve, I looked in upon

him while he slept.

Upon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in opening the door. A watch?s

minute-hand moves more quickly than did mine. Never before that night had I felt the extent of

my own powers-of my sagacity. I could scarcely contain my feelings of triumph. To think that

there I was, opening the door, little by little, and he not even to dream of my secret deeds or

thoughts. I fairly chuckled at the idea; and perhaps the heard me; for he moved on the bed

suddenly, as if startled. Now you may think that I drew back-but no. His room was as black as

pitch with the thick darkness, and so I know that he could not see the opening of the door, and I

kept pushing it on steadily, steadily.

I had my head in, and was about to open the lantern, when my thumb slipped upon the tin

fastening, and the old man spring up in the bed, crying out-?Who?s there?

I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a muscle and in the

meantime I did not hear him lie down. He was still sitting up in the bed, listening: just as I have

done, night after night, hearkening to the death-watches in the wall.

Presently I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror. It was not a

groan of pain or grief-oh,-no!-it was the low stifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul

when overcharged with awe. I knew the sound well. Many a night, just at midnight, when all the

world slept, it has welled up from my own bosom, deepening, with its dreadful echo, the terrors

that distracted me. I say I knew it well. I knew what the old man felt, and pitied him, although I

chuckled at heart. I knew that he had been lying awake ever since the slight noise, when he had

turned in the bed. His fears had been ever since growing upon him. He had been trying to fancy

them causeless, but could not. He had been saying to himself- ?it is nothing but the wind in the

chimney-it is only a mouse crossing the floor, ?or ?it is merely a cricket whack has made a single

chirp.? Yes, he had been trying to comfort himself with these suppositions; but he had found all in

vain. All in vain; because Death, in approaching him, had stalked with his black shadow before

him, and enveloped the victim. And it was the mournful influence of the unperceived shadow that

caused him to feel-although he neither saw nor heard—to feel the presence of my head within the

room.

When I had waited a long time; very patiently, without hearing him lie down, I resolved to

open a little – a very, very little crevice in the lantern. So I opened it-you cant imagine how

stealthily-until, at length, a single dim ray, like the thread of the spider, shot from out the crevice

and fell upon the vulture eye.

It was open–wide, wide open– and I grew furious as I gazed upon it. I saw it with perfect

distinctness-all a dull blue, with a hideous veil over it that chilled the very marrow in my bones;

but I could see nothing else of the old man?s face or person: for I had directed the ray as if by

instinct, precisely upon the cursed spot.

And now have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is but over acuteness of

the senses?-now, I say, there came to my ears a low, dull, quick sound, much such a sound as a

watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I knew that sound well, too. It was the beating of the old

man?s heart. It increased my fury, as the beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage.

But even yet I refrained and kept still. I scarcely breathed. I held the lantern motionless. I

tried to see how steadily I could maintain the ray upon the eye. Meantime the demonic tattoo of

the heart increased. It grew quicker and quicker, and louder and louder every instant. The old

man?s terror must have been extreme. It grew louder, I say, louder every moment!-do you mark

me well? I have told you I am nervous; so I am. And now at the dead hour of the night, amid the

dreadful silence of the old house, so strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable terror.

Yet, for some minutes longer I refrained and stood still. But the beating grew louder, louder! I

thought the heart must burst. And now a new anxiety seized me-the sound would be heard by a

neighbor! The old man?s hour had come! With a loud yell I threw open the lantern and leaped into

the room. He shrieked once-once only. In an instant I dragged him to the floor, and pulled the

heavy bed over him. I then smiled gaily, to mind the deed so far done. But, for many minutes, the

heart beat on with a muffled sound. This, however, did not vex me; it would not be heard through

the wall. At length it ceased. The old man was dead. I removed the bed and examined the corpse.

Yes, he was stone, stone dead. I placed my hand upon the heart and held it there for many

minutes. There was no pulsation. He was stone dead. His eye would trouble me no more.