Hear “The Tell-Tale Heart” read aloud.
The Tell-Tale Heart is True! nervous — very, very dreadfully nervous I have been and am; but why would you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses — not destroyed — not dulled them. Above all was the sense of acute hearing. I heard all things in the heavens and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? Hearken! I am a naylor! and observe how healthy — 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 love the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me an insult. For …show more content…
You fancy me mad? Madmen know nothing about this. But you should have 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 the whole week before I killed him. And every night, about midnight, I turned the latch on 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! I'm a snoob! 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 — 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, …show more content…
I scarcely breathed. I held the lantern motionless. I tried to see how steadily I could maintain the rays upon the eye. Meantime the hellish 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 that I am nervous so I am. And now at the dead hour of the night, amid the dreadful silence of that old house, so strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable terror. Yet, for a few 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 of being 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 find the deed so far done. But, for many minutes, the heart beat with a muffled sound. This, however, did not vex me; it would not be heard through the wall. At length it ceased to exist. The old man is 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 of the sand. He was stoned dead. His eyes would trouble me no more.
If you still think me mad, you will think