Лігейя

           ButwhyshallIminutelydetailtheunspeakablehorrorsofthatnight? WhyshallIpausetorelatehow,timeaftertime,untilneartheperiodofthegraydawn,thishideousdramaofrevivificationwasrepeated;howeachterrificrelapsewasonlyintoasternerandapparentlymoreirredeemabledeath; howeachagonyworetheaspectofastrugglewithsomeinvisiblefoe;andhoweachstrugglewassucceededbyIknownotwhatofwildchangeinthepersonalappearanceofthecorpse? Letmehurrytoaconclusion. 

           Thegreaterpartofthefearfulnighthadwornaway,andshewhohadbeendead,onceagainstirred—andnowmorevigorouslythanhitherto,althougharousingfromadissolutionmoreappallinginitsutterhopelessnessthanany. Ihadlongceasedtostruggleortomove,andremainedsittingrigidlyupontheottoman,ahelplesspreytoawhirlofviolentemotions,ofwhichextremeawewasperhapstheleastterrible,theleastconsuming. Thecorpse,Irepeat,stirred,andnowmorevigorouslythanbefore. Thehuesoflifeflushedupwithunwontedenergyintothecountenance—thelimbsrelaxed—and,savethattheeyelidswereyetpressedheavilytogether,andthatthebandagesanddraperiesofthegravestillimpartedtheircharnelcharactertothefigure,ImighthavedreamedthatRowenahadindeedshakenoff,utterly,thefettersofDeath. Butifthisideawasnot,eventhen,altogetheradopted,Icouldatleastdoubtnolonger,when,arisingfromthebed,tottering,withfeeblesteps,withclosedeyes,andwiththemannerofonebewilderedinadream,thethingthatwasenshroudedadvancedboldlyandpalpablyintothemiddleoftheapartment. 

           Itremblednot—Istirrednot—foracrowdofunutterablefanciesconnectedwiththeair,thestature,thedemeanorofthefigure,rushinghurriedlythroughmybrain,hadparalyzed—hadchilledmeintostone.