The Pit and the Pendulum


The Pit and the Pendulum

Edgar Allan Poe

Horror, Classical prose

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The Pit and the Pendulum by Edgar Allan Poe Impiatortorum longos hic turba furores Sanguinisinnocui, non satiata, aluit. Sospitenunc patria, fracto nunc funeris antro, Morsubi dira fuit vita salusque patent. I was sick—sick unto death with that long agony; and when they at length unbound me, and I was permitted to sit, I felt that my senses were leaving me. The sentence—the dread sentence of death—was the last of distinct accentuation which reached my ears. After that, the sound of the inquisitorial voices seemed merged in one dreamy indeterminate hum. It conveyed to my soul the idea of revolution—perhaps from its association in fancy with the burr of a mill wheel. This only for a brief period; for presently I heard no more. Yet, for a while, I saw; but with how terrible an exaggeration! I saw the lips of the black-robed judges. They appeared to me white—whiter than the sheet upon which I trace these words—and thin even to grotesqueness; thin with...

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