Volume III Part 46 (1/2)
”Hush, be quiet, unhappy man!”
”Oh! there, there!”
”Jacques, it is death.”
”Oh! I see her,” added Ferrand, his teeth set. ”There she is! how handsome she is; how handsome! See her long black hair; it floats in disorder upon her shoulders! And her small teeth, which are seen through her half-opened lips: her lips so red and humid! What pearls! Oh! her large eyes seem in turn to sparkle and die. Cecily! Cecily! I adore you!”
”Jacques,” cried Polidori, alarmed, ”do not excite yourself by these phantoms.”
”It is not a phantom.”
”Take care; a short time ago, you know, you imagined also that you heard the songs of this woman, and your hearing was suddenly affected by fearful sufferings--take care!”
”Leave me,” cried the notary, with impatience, ”leave me! Of what use is hearing, except to listen to her?--sight, except to see her?”
”But the tortures which ensue, miserable fool!”
The notary did not finish. He uttered a sharp cry of pain, throwing himself backward on the bed.
”What is the matter?” asked Polidori, with astonishment.
”Put out that light; its glare is too vivid. I cannot support it; it blinds me!”
”How?” said Polidori, more and more surprised.
”There is but one lamp with a shade, and its light is very feeble.”
”I tell you that the light increases here. Hold! more! more! Oh! it is too much! it becomes intolerable!” raved on Jacques Ferrand, shutting his eyes with an expression of increasing pain.
”You are mad! This chamber is hardly light, I tell you. I have just turned down the lamps; open your eyes, you will see.”
”Open my eyes! But I shall be blinded by the torrents of dazzling light which flood this apartment. Here, there, everywhere, sheets of fire--thousands of s.h.i.+ning atoms,” cried the notary, raising himself; then, uttering a cry of pain, he placed his hands on his eyes. ”But I am blinded!
the burning light pierces my eyelids! it consumes me! Put out that light!
it casts an infernal flame.”
”No more doubt,” said Polidori; ”his sight is stricken in the same manner as his hearing was just now. He is lost! To bleed him anew in this state would be fatal. He is lost!”
Another sharp, terrible yell from Jacques Ferrand resounded throughout the chamber.
”Executioner! put out the lamp! Its burning splendor penetrates through my hands; they are transparent! I see the blood! it circulates in my veins! I did well to close my eyelids! this fiery lava would have entered! Oh, what torture! It is as if my eyes were pierced with red-hot needles! Help!
help!” cried he, struggling in his bed, a prey to horrible convulsions.
Polidori, alarmed at the violence of this attack, extinguished the light.
And both were left in utter darkness. At this moment was heard the noise of a carriage, which stopped at the street door. When the chamber became darkened, Ferrand's agony ceased by degrees, and he said to Polidori, ”Why did you wait so long before you put out this lamp? Was it to make me endure all the torments of the d.a.m.ned? Oh, what I have suffered! Oh, heaven! how I have suffered!”
”Now do you suffer less?”