The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 4

by Edgar Allan Poe

  A PREDICAMENT

  What chance, good lady, hath bereft you thus?

  --COMUS.

  IT was a quiet and still afternoon when I strolled forth in the goodlycity of Edina. The confusion and bustle in the streets were terrible.Men were talking. Women were screaming. Children were choking. Pigs werewhistling. Carts they rattled. Bulls they bellowed. Cows they lowed.Horses they neighed. Cats they caterwauled. Dogs they danced. Danced!Could it then be possible? Danced! Alas, thought I, my dancing days areover! Thus it is ever. What a host of gloomy recollections will ever andanon be awakened in the mind of genius and imaginative contemplation,especially of a genius doomed to the everlasting and eternal, andcontinual, and, as one might say, the--continued--yes, the continued andcontinuous, bitter, harassing, disturbing, and, if I may be allowed theexpression, the very disturbing influence of the serene, and godlike,and heavenly, and exalted, and elevated, and purifying effect of whatmay be rightly termed the most enviable, the most truly enviable--nay!the most benignly beautiful, the most deliciously ethereal, and, as itwere, the most pretty (if I may use so bold an expression) thing(pardon me, gentle reader!) in the world--but I am always led away bymy feelings. In such a mind, I repeat, what a host of recollections arestirred up by a trifle! The dogs danced! I--I could not! They frisked--Iwept. They capered--I sobbed aloud. Touching circumstances! which cannotfail to bring to the recollection of the classical reader that exquisitepassage in relation to the fitness of things, which is to be found inthe commencement of the third volume of that admirable and venerableChinese novel the Jo-Go-Slow.

  In my solitary walk through, the city I had two humble but faithfulcompanions. Diana, my poodle! sweetest of creatures! She had a quantityof hair over her one eye, and a blue ribband tied fashionably around herneck. Diana was not more than five inches in height, but her head wassomewhat bigger than her body, and her tail being cut off exceedinglyclose, gave an air of injured innocence to the interesting animal whichrendered her a favorite with all.

  And Pompey, my negro!--sweet Pompey! how shall I ever forget thee? Ihad taken Pompey's arm. He was three feet in height (I like to beparticular) and about seventy, or perhaps eighty, years of age. He hadbow-legs and was corpulent. His mouth should not be called small, norhis ears short. His teeth, however, were like pearl, and his large fulleyes were deliciously white. Nature had endowed him with no neck, andhad placed his ankles (as usual with that race) in the middle of theupper portion of the feet. He was clad with a striking simplicity. Hissole garments were a stock of nine inches in height, and a nearly--newdrab overcoat which had formerly been in the service of the tall,stately, and illustrious Dr. Moneypenny. It was a good overcoat. It waswell cut. It was well made. The coat was nearly new. Pompey held it upout of the dirt with both hands.

  There were three persons in our party, and two of them have already beenthe subject of remark. There was a third--that person was myself. Iam the Signora Psyche Zenobia. I am not Suky Snobbs. My appearance iscommanding. On the memorable occasion of which I speak I was habited ina crimson satin dress, with a sky-blue Arabian mantelet. And the dresshad trimmings of green agraffas, and seven graceful flounces of theorange-colored auricula. I thus formed the third of the party. There wasthe poodle. There was Pompey. There was myself. We were three. Thusit is said there were originally but three Furies--Melty, Nimmy, andHetty--Meditation, Memory, and Fiddling.

  Leaning upon the arm of the gallant Pompey, and attended at arespectable distance by Diana, I proceeded down one of the populousand very pleasant streets of the now deserted Edina. On a sudden, therepresented itself to view a church--a Gothic cathedral--vast, venerable,and with a tall steeple, which towered into the sky. What madnessnow possessed me? Why did I rush upon my fate? I was seized with anuncontrollable desire to ascend the giddy pinnacle, and then survey theimmense extent of the city. The door of the cathedral stood invitinglyopen. My destiny prevailed. I entered the ominous archway. Where thenwas my guardian angel?--if indeed such angels there be. If! Distressingmonosyllable! what world of mystery, and meaning, and doubt, anduncertainty is there involved in thy two letters! I entered the ominousarchway! I entered; and, without injury to my orange-colored auriculas,I passed beneath the portal, and emerged within the vestibule. Thusit is said the immense river Alfred passed, unscathed, and unwetted,beneath the sea.

  I thought the staircase would never have an end. Round! Yes, they wentround and up, and round and up and round and up, until I could not helpsurmising, with the sagacious Pompey, upon whose supporting arm I leanedin all the confidence of early affection--I could not help surmisingthat the upper end of the continuous spiral ladder had beenaccidentally, or perhaps designedly, removed. I paused for breath; and,in the meantime, an accident occurred of too momentous a nature ina moral, and also in a metaphysical point of view, to be passed overwithout notice. It appeared to me--indeed I was quite confident of thefact--I could not be mistaken--no! I had, for some moments, carefullyand anxiously observed the motions of my Diana--I say that I could notbe mistaken--Diana smelt a rat! At once I called Pompey's attention tothe subject, and he--he agreed with me. There was then no longer anyreasonable room for doubt. The rat had been smelled--and by Diana.Heavens! shall I ever forget the intense excitement of the moment? Alas!what is the boasted intellect of man? The rat!--it was there--that is tosay, it was somewhere. Diana smelled the rat. I--I could not! Thus it issaid the Prussian Isis has, for some persons, a sweet and very powerfulperfume, while to others it is perfectly scentless.

  The staircase had been surmounted, and there were now only three orfour more upward steps intervening between us and the summit. We stillascended, and now only one step remained. One step! One little, littlestep! Upon one such little step in the great staircase of human life howvast a sum of human happiness or misery depends! I thought of myself,then of Pompey, and then of the mysterious and inexplicable destinywhich surrounded us. I thought of Pompey!--alas, I thought of love! Ithought of my many false steps which have been taken, and may be takenagain. I resolved to be more cautious, more reserved. I abandoned thearm of Pompey, and, without his assistance, surmounted the one remainingstep, and gained the chamber of the belfry. I was followed immediatelyafterward by my poodle. Pompey alone remained behind. I stood at thehead of the staircase, and encouraged him to ascend. He stretched forthto me his hand, and unfortunately in so doing was forced to abandonhis firm hold upon the overcoat. Will the gods never cease theirpersecution? The overcoat is dropped, and, with one of his feet, Pompeystepped upon the long and trailing skirt of the overcoat. He stumbledand fell--this consequence was inevitable. He fell forward, and, withhis accursed head, striking me full in the--in the breast, precipitatedme headlong, together with himself, upon the hard, filthy, anddetestable floor of the belfry. But my revenge was sure, sudden, andcomplete. Seizing him furiously by the wool with both hands, I tore outa vast quantity of black, and crisp, and curling material, and tossed itfrom me with every manifestation of disdain. It fell among the ropes ofthe belfry and remained. Pompey arose, and said no word. But he regardedme piteously with his large eyes and--sighed. Ye Gods--that sigh! Itsunk into my heart. And the hair--the wool! Could I have reached thatwool I would have bathed it with my tears, in testimony of regret. Butalas! it was now far beyond my grasp. As it dangled among the cordageof the bell, I fancied it alive. I fancied that it stood on end withindignation. Thus the happy-dandy Flos Aeris of Java bears, it is said,a beautiful flower, which will live when pulled up by the roots. Thenatives suspend it by a cord from the ceiling and enjoy its fragrancefor years.

  Our quarrel was now made up, and we looked about the room for anaperture through which to survey the city of Edina. Windows there werenone. The sole light admitted into the gloomy chamber proceeded froma square opening, about a foot in diameter, at a height of about sevenfeet from the floor. Yet what will the energy of true genius not effect?I resolved to clamber up to this hole. A vast quantity of wheels,pinions, and other cabalistic--looking machinery
stood opposite thehole, close to it; and through the hole there passed an iron rod fromthe machinery. Between the wheels and the wall where the hole lay therewas barely room for my body--yet I was desperate, and determined topersevere. I called Pompey to my side.

  "You perceive that aperture, Pompey. I wish to look through it. You willstand here just beneath the hole--so. Now, hold out one of your hands,Pompey, and let me step upon it--thus. Now, the other hand, Pompey, andwith its aid I will get upon your shoulders."

  He did every thing I wished, and I found, upon getting up, that I couldeasily pass my head and neck through the aperture. The prospect wassublime. Nothing could be more magnificent. I merely paused a moment tobid Diana behave herself, and assure Pompey that I would be considerateand bear as lightly as possible upon his shoulders. I told him I wouldbe tender of his feelings--ossi tender que beefsteak. Having done thisjustice to my faithful friend, I gave myself up with great zest andenthusiasm to the enjoyment of the scene which so obligingly spreaditself out before my eyes.

  Upon this subject, however, I shall forbear to dilate. I will notdescribe the city of Edinburgh. Every one has been to the city ofEdinburgh. Every one has been to Edinburgh--the classic Edina. I willconfine myself to the momentous details of my own lamentable adventure.Having, in some measure, satisfied my curiosity in regard to the extent,situation, and general appearance of the city, I had leisure to surveythe church in which I was, and the delicate architecture of the steeple.I observed that the aperture through which I had thrust my head was anopening in the dial-plate of a gigantic clock, and must have appeared,from the street, as a large key-hole, such as we see in the face ofthe French watches. No doubt the true object was to admit the arm ofan attendant, to adjust, when necessary, the hands of the clock fromwithin. I observed also, with surprise, the immense size of these hands,the longest of which could not have been less than ten feet in length,and, where broadest, eight or nine inches in breadth. They were of solidsteel apparently, and their edges appeared to be sharp. Having noticedthese particulars, and some others, I again turned my eyes upon theglorious prospect below, and soon became absorbed in contemplation.

  From this, after some minutes, I was aroused by the voice of Pompey, whodeclared that he could stand it no longer, and requested that I would beso kind as to come down. This was unreasonable, and I told him so in aspeech of some length. He replied, but with an evident misunderstandingof my ideas upon the subject. I accordingly grew angry, and told himin plain words, that he was a fool, that he had committed an ignoramuse-clench-eye, that his notions were mere insommary Bovis, and hiswords little better than an ennemywerrybor'em. With this he appearedsatisfied, and I resumed my contemplations.

  It might have been half an hour after this altercation when, as I wasdeeply absorbed in the heavenly scenery beneath me, I was startled bysomething very cold which pressed with a gentle pressure on the back ofmy neck. It is needless to say that I felt inexpressibly alarmed. I knewthat Pompey was beneath my feet, and that Diana was sitting, accordingto my explicit directions, upon her hind legs, in the farthest corner ofthe room. What could it be? Alas! I but too soon discovered. Turningmy head gently to one side, I perceived, to my extreme horror, that thehuge, glittering, scimetar-like minute-hand of the clock had, in thecourse of its hourly revolution, descended upon my neck. There was, Iknew, not a second to be lost. I pulled back at once--but it was toolate. There was no chance of forcing my head through the mouth of thatterrible trap in which it was so fairly caught, and which grew narrowerand narrower with a rapidity too horrible to be conceived. The agony ofthat moment is not to be imagined. I threw up my hands and endeavored,with all my strength, to force upward the ponderous iron bar. I might aswell have tried to lift the cathedral itself. Down, down, down it came,closer and yet closer. I screamed to Pompey for aid; but he said thatI had hurt his feelings by calling him 'an ignorant old squint-eye:' Iyelled to Diana; but she only said 'bow-wow-wow,' and that I had toldher 'on no account to stir from the corner.' Thus I had no relief toexpect from my associates.

  Meantime the ponderous and terrific Scythe of Time (for I now discoveredthe literal import of that classical phrase) had not stopped, nor wasit likely to stop, in its career. Down and still down, it came. It hadalready buried its sharp edge a full inch in my flesh, and mysensations grew indistinct and confused. At one time I fancied myselfin Philadelphia with the stately Dr. Moneypenny, at another in the backparlor of Mr. Blackwood receiving his invaluable instructions. And thenagain the sweet recollection of better and earlier times came over me,and I thought of that happy period when the world was not all a desert,and Pompey not altogether cruel.

  The ticking of the machinery amused me. Amused me, I say, for mysensations now bordered upon perfect happiness, and the most triflingcircumstances afforded me pleasure. The eternal click-clak, click-clak,click-clak of the clock was the most melodious of music in my ears, andoccasionally even put me in mind of the graceful sermonic harangues ofDr. Ollapod. Then there were the great figures upon the dial-plate--howintelligent how intellectual, they all looked! And presently they tookto dancing the Mazurka, and I think it was the figure V. who performedthe most to my satisfaction. She was evidently a lady of breeding. Noneof your swaggerers, and nothing at all indelicate in her motions. Shedid the pirouette to admiration--whirling round upon her apex. I made anendeavor to hand her a chair, for I saw that she appeared fatiguedwith her exertions--and it was not until then that I fully perceived mylamentable situation. Lamentable indeed! The bar had buried itself twoinches in my neck. I was aroused to a sense of exquisite pain. I prayedfor death, and, in the agony of the moment, could not help repeatingthose exquisite verses of the poet Miguel De Cervantes:

  Vanny Buren, tan escondida

  Query no te senty venny

  Pork and pleasure, delly morry

  Nommy, torny, darry, widdy!

  But now a new horror presented itself, and one indeed sufficient tostartle the strongest nerves. My eyes, from the cruel pressure ofthe machine, were absolutely starting from their sockets. While I wasthinking how I should possibly manage without them, one actually tumbledout of my head, and, rolling down the steep side of the steeple, lodgedin the rain gutter which ran along the eaves of the main building. Theloss of the eye was not so much as the insolent air of independence andcontempt with which it regarded me after it was out. There it lay in thegutter just under my nose, and the airs it gave itself would have beenridiculous had they not been disgusting. Such a winking and blinkingwere never before seen. This behavior on the part of my eye in thegutter was not only irritating on account of its manifest insolence andshameful ingratitude, but was also exceedingly inconvenient on accountof the sympathy which always exists between two eyes of the same head,however far apart. I was forced, in a manner, to wink and to blink,whether I would or not, in exact concert with the scoundrelly thingthat lay just under my nose. I was presently relieved, however, by thedropping out of the other eye. In falling it took the same direction(possibly a concerted plot) as its fellow. Both rolled out of the guttertogether, and in truth I was very glad to get rid of them.

  The bar was now four inches and a half deep in my neck, and there wasonly a little bit of skin to cut through. My sensations were thoseof entire happiness, for I felt that in a few minutes, at farthest,I should be relieved from my disagreeable situation. And in thisexpectation I was not at all deceived. At twenty-five minutes pastfive in the afternoon, precisely, the huge minute-hand had proceededsufficiently far on its terrible revolution to sever the small remainderof my neck. I was not sorry to see the head which had occasioned me somuch embarrassment at length make a final separation from my body.It first rolled down the side of the steeple, then lodge, for a fewseconds, in the gutter, and then made its way, with a plunge, into themiddle of the street.

  I will candidly confess that my feelings were now of the mostsingular--nay, of the most mysterious, the most perplexing andincomprehensible character. My senses were here and there at one an
d thesame moment. With my head I imagined, at one time, that I, the head,was the real Signora Psyche Zenobia--at another I felt convinced thatmyself, the body, was the proper identity. To clear my ideas on thistopic I felt in my pocket for my snuff-box, but, upon getting it, andendeavoring to apply a pinch of its grateful contents in the ordinarymanner, I became immediately aware of my peculiar deficiency, andthrew the box at once down to my head. It took a pinch with greatsatisfaction, and smiled me an acknowledgement in return. Shortlyafterward it made me a speech, which I could hear but indistinctlywithout ears. I gathered enough, however, to know that it was astonishedat my wishing to remain alive under such circumstances. In theconcluding sentences it quoted the noble words of Ariosto--

  Il pover hommy che non sera corty

  And have a combat tenty erry morty; thus comparing me to the hero who,in the heat of the combat, not perceiving that he was dead, continued tocontest the battle with inextinguishable valor. There was nothing nowto prevent my getting down from my elevation, and I did so. What it wasthat Pompey saw so very peculiar in my appearance I have never yet beenable to find out. The fellow opened his mouth from ear to ear, and shuthis two eyes as if he were endeavoring to crack nuts between the lids.Finally, throwing off his overcoat, he made one spring for the staircaseand disappeared. I hurled after the scoundrel these vehement words ofDemosthenes--

  Andrew O'Phlegethon, you really make haste to fly, and then turned tothe darling of my heart, to the one-eyed! the shaggy-haired Diana. Alas!what a horrible vision affronted my eyes? Was that a rat I saw skulkinginto his hole? Are these the picked bones of the little angel who hasbeen cruelly devoured by the monster? Ye gods! and what do I behold--isthat the departed spirit, the shade, the ghost, of my beloved puppy,which I perceive sitting with a grace so melancholy, in the corner?Hearken! for she speaks, and, heavens! it is in the German of Schiller--

  "Unt stubby duk, so stubby dun Duk she! duk she!"

  Alas! and are not her words too true?

  "And if I died, at least I died For thee--for thee."

  Sweet creature! she too has sacrificed herself in my behalf. Dogless,niggerless, headless, what now remains for the unhappy Signora PsycheZenobia? Alas--nothing! I have done.