The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 2Poe, Edgar Allan
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The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 2
Poe, Edgar Allan
American fiction -- 19th century; Fantasy fiction; Horror tales, American; Short stories
After a lapse of some months, spent at home in mere idleness, I
found myself a student at Eton. The brief interval had been
sufficient to enfeeble my remembrance of the events at Dr.
Bransby’s, or at least to effect a material change in the nature
of the feelings with which I remembered them. The truth—the
tragedy—of the drama was no more. I could now find room to doubt
the evidence of my senses; and seldom called up the subject at
all but with wonder at extent of human credulity, and a smile at
the vivid force of the imagination which I hereditarily
possessed. Neither was this species of scepticism likely to be
diminished by the character of the life I led at Eton. The vortex
of thoughtless folly into which I there so immediately and so
recklessly plunged, washed away all but the froth of my past
hours, engulfed at once every solid or serious impression, and
left to memory only the veriest levities of a former existence.
I do not wish, however, to trace the course of my miserable
profligacy here—a profligacy which set at defiance the laws,
while it eluded the vigilance of the institution. Three years of
folly, passed without profit, had but given me rooted habits of
vice, and added, in a somewhat unusual degree, to my bodily
stature, when, after a week of soulless dissipation, I invited a
small party of the most dissolute students to a secret carousal
in my chambers. We met at a late hour of the night; for our
debaucheries were to be faithfully protracted until morning. The
wine flowed freely, and there were not wanting other and perhaps
more dangerous seductions; so that the gray dawn had already
faintly appeared in the east, while our delirious extravagance
was at its height. Madly flushed with cards and intoxication, I
was in the act of insisting upon a toast of more than wonted
profanity, when my attention was suddenly diverted by the
violent, although partial unclosing of the door of the apartment,
and by the eager voice of a servant from without. He said that
some person, apparently in great haste, demanded to speak with me
in the hall.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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