The Fall of the House of Usher | Page 3

word processors); OR
[*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at no additional
cost, fee or expense, a copy of the etext in its original plain ASCII form
(or in EBCDIC or other equivalent proprietary form).
[2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this "Small
Print!" statement.
[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the net profits
you derive calculated using the method you already use to calculate

your applicable taxes. If you don't derive profits, no royalty is due.
Royalties are payable to "Project Gutenberg
Association/Carnegie-Mellon University" within the 60 days following
each date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) your annual
(or equivalent periodic) tax return.
WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU
DON'T HAVE TO?
The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, scanning
machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty free copyright
licenses, and every other sort of contribution you can think of. Money
should be paid to "Project Gutenberg Association / Carnegie-Mellon
University".
*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN
ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END*
Scanned and proofread by Levent Kurnaz

The Fall of the House of Usher
Son coeur est un luth suspendu; Sitot qu'on le touche il resonne. DE
BERANGER.

During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of
the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, I had
been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary tract of
country; and at length found myself, as the shades of the evening drew
on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher. I know not how it
was--but, with the first glimpse of the building, a sense of insufferable
gloom pervaded my spirit. I say insufferable; for the feeling was
unrelieved by any of that half-pleasureable, because poetic, sentiment,
with which the mind usually receives even the sternest natural images
of the desolate or terrible. I looked upon the scene before me--upon the

mere house, and the simple landscape features of the domain--upon the
bleak walls--upon the vacant eye-like windows--upon a few rank
sedges--and upon a few white trunks of decayed trees--with an utter
depression of soul which I can compare to no earthly sensation more
properly than to the after-dream of the reveller upon opium--the bitter
lapse into everyday life--the hideous dropping off of the veil. There
was an iciness, a sinking, a sickening of the heart--an unredeemed
dreariness of thought which no goading of the imagination could
torture into aught of the sublime. What was it--I paused to think--what
was it that so unnerved me in the contemplation of the House of Usher?
It was a mystery all insoluble; nor could I grapple with the shadowy
fancies that crowded upon me as I pondered. I was forced to fall back
upon the unsatisfactory conclusion, that while, beyond doubt, there are
combinations of very simple natural objects which have the power of
thus affecting us, still the analysis of this power lies among
considerations beyond our depth. It was possible, I reflected, that a
mere different arrangement of the particulars of the scene, of the details
of the picture, would be sufficient to modify, or perhaps to annihilate
its capacity for sorrowful impression; and, acting upon this idea, I
reined my horse to the precipitous brink of a black and lurid tarn that
lay in unruffled lustre by the dwelling, and gazed down--but with a
shudder even more thrilling than before--upon the remodelled and
inverted images of the grey sedge, and the ghastly tree-stems, and the
vacant and eye-like windows.
Nevertheless, in this mansion of gloom I now proposed to myself a
sojourn of some weeks. Its proprietor, Roderick Usher, had been one of
my boon companions in boyhood; but many years had elapsed since
our last meeting. A letter, however, had lately reached me in a distant
part of the country--a letter from him-- which, in its wildly importunate
nature, had admitted of no other than a personal reply. The MS gave
evidence of nervous agitation. The writer spoke of acute bodily
illness--of a mental disorder which oppressed him--and of an earnest
desire to see me, as his best, and indeed his only personal friend, with a
view of attempting, by the cheerfulness of my society, some alleviation
of his malady. It was the manner in which all this, and much more, was
said--it was the apparent heart that went with his request--which

allowed me no room for hesitation; and I accordingly obeyed forthwith
what I still considered a very singular summons.
Although, as boys, we had been even intimate associates, yet I really
knew little of my friend. His reserve had been always excessive and
habitual. I was aware, however, that his very ancient family had been
noted, time out of mind, for