by Edgar Allan Poe

Stay there ! fail To meet thee hollow vale

[_Exequy death wife, by Henry King, Bishop of Chichester ]

ILL-FATED and mysterious man ! - bewildered brilliancy of thine own imagination, and fallen flames of thine own youth ! Again in fancy I behold thee ! Once more thy form hath risen before me ! - not - oh not as thou art - cold valley and shadow - but as thou shouldst be - squandering away life of magnificent meditation city of dim visions, thine own Venice - star-beloved Elysium sea, wide windows of whose Palladian palaces look down with deep and bitter meaning secrets of her silent waters Yes ! I repeat it - as thou shouldst be surely other worlds than this - other thoughts thoughts multitude - other speculations speculations sophist Who then shall call thy conduct into question ? who blame thee for thy visionary hours, or denounce those occupations as wasting away of life, which were but the overflowings of thine everlasting energies ?

at Venice, beneath the covered archway there called the _Ponte di Sospiri_, that I met third or fourth time the person of whom I speak with confused recollection that I bring to mind the circumstances meeting Yet I remember - ah ! how should I forget ? - the deep midnight, the Bridge of Sighs, the beauty of woman, Genius of Romance that stalked up and down the narrow canal

night of unusual gloom The great clock Piazza had sounded the fifth hour Italian evening The square Campanile lay silent and deserted, lights old Ducal Palace were dying fast away returning home Piazetta, by way Grand Canal But as my gondola arrived opposite the mouth canal San Marco, female voice from its recesses broke suddenly night, in one wild, hysterical, and long continued shriek Startled sound, I sprang upon my feet : while the gondolier, letting slip his single oar, lost it pitchy darkness beyond chance of recovery, and we were consequently left guidance current which here sets greater smaller channel Like some huge and sable-feathered condor, we were slowly drifting down towards the Bridge of Sighs, when thousand flambeaux flashing windows, and down the staircases Ducal Palace, turned all at once that deep gloom into livid and preternatural day

child, slipping arms own mother, had fallen from an upper window lofty structure deep and dim canal The quiet waters had closed placidly over their victim ; and, although my own gondola in sight, many stout swimmer, already stream, was seeking in vain surface, the treasure found, alas ! only abyss broad black marble flagstones entrance palace, and few steps above the water, stood figure which none who then saw forgotten It Marchesa Aphrodite - the adoration of all Venice - the gayest gay - the most lovely where all were beautiful - but still the young wife old and intriguing Mentoni, mother fair child, her first and , who now, deep beneath the murky water, was thinking in bitterness of heart upon her sweet caresses, and exhausting its little life in struggles upon her name

She stood alone Her small, bare, and silvery feet gleamed black mirror of marble beneath her Her hair, not more than half loosened night from its ball-room array, clustered, amid shower of diamonds, round and round her classical head, in curls like those young hyacinth snowy-white and gauze-like drapery seemed nearly the sole covering to her delicate form ; but the mid-summer and midnight air was hot, sullen, and still, and no motion statue-like form itself, stirred even the folds raiment of very vapor which hung around it heavy marble hangs around the Niobe Yet - strange ! - her large lustrous eyes turned downwards upon that grave wherein her brightest hope lay buried - but riveted in widely different direction ! The prison Old Republic is, , the stateliest building in all Venice - but how could that lady gaze so fixedly upon it, when beneath her lay stifling her only child ? Yon dark, gloomy niche, too, yawns right opposite her chamber window - what, then, could_ there be in its shadows - in its architecture - in its ivy-wreathed and solemn cornices - Marchesa di Mentoni wondered at thousand times before ? Nonsense ! - Who remember that, , the eye, like shattered mirror, multiplies the images sorrow, and sees in innumerable far-off places, the wo close at hand ?

Many steps above the Marchesa, and arch water-gate, stood, in full dress, the Satyr-like figure of Mentoni himself occasionally occupied in thrumming guitar, and seemed ennuye very death, as at intervals directions recovery child Stupified and aghast, I had myself no power to move upright position I had assumed upon first hearing the shriek, and presented eyes agitated group spectral and ominous appearance, as with pale countenance and rigid limbs, I floated down among them funereal gondola

All efforts proved in vain most energetic search were relaxing their exertions, and yielding to gloomy sorrow There seemed but little hope child ; ( mother ! ) but now, interior dark niche been already mentioned as forming part Old Republican prison, and as fronting the lattice Marchesa, figure muffled in cloak, stepped out within reach light, and, pausing moment verge giddy descent, plunged headlong canal As, in an instant afterwards, he stood still living and breathing child within his grasp, marble flagstones side Marchesa, his cloak, heavy drenching water, became unfastened, and, falling in folds about his feet, discovered wonder-stricken spectators the graceful person of very young man, sound of whose name the greater part of Europe was then ringing

No word spoke the deliverer But the Marchesa ! She will now receive her child - she will press it to her heart - she will cling to its little form, and smother it with her caresses Alas ! _another's arms have taken it stranger - another's arms have taken it away, and borne it afar off, unnoticed, palace ! Marchesa ! Her lip - her beautiful lip trembles : tears are gathering in her eyes - those eyes which, like Pliny's acanthus, are "soft and almost liquid " Yes ! tears are gathering in those eyes - ! the entire woman thrills soul, statue has started into life ! The pallor marble countenance, the swelling marble bosom, the very purity marble feet, we behold suddenly flushed over with tide of ungovernable crimson ; and slight shudder quivers about her delicate frame, as gentle air at Napoli rich silver lilies grass

Why should that lady blush ! demand no answer - except that, having left, eager haste and terror of mother's heart, the privacy of her own boudoir_, she has neglected to enthral her tiny feet in their slippers, and utterly forgotten to throw over her Venetian shoulders that drapery their due What other possible reason could been for her so blushing ? - glance wild appealing eyes ? unusual tumult throbbing bosom ? - convulsive pressure trembling hand ? - that hand which fell, as Mentoni turned palace, accidentally, hand stranger What reason could been low - the singularly low tone unmeaning words which the lady uttered hurriedly in bidding him adieu ? "Thou hast conquered," she said, or the murmurs water deceived me ; "thou hast conquered - one hour after sunrise - meet - so let it be ! "

* * * * * * *

The tumult had subsided, the lights had died away palace, stranger, whom I now recognized, stood alone flags He shook with inconceivable agitation, eye glanced around in search of gondola do offer him the service own ; and he accepted the civility Having obtained an oar water-gate, we proceeded together residence, while he rapidly recovered his self-possession, and spoke former slight acquaintance in terms of great apparent cordiality

some subjects I take pleasure in being minute The person stranger - let me call him title, who to all the world was still stranger - the person stranger is subjects In height below rather than above the medium size : although there were moments of intense passion when his frame actually expanded and belied the assertion The light, almost slender symmetry figure, promised more ready activity which he evinced Bridge of Sighs, than Herculean strength which he known to wield without an effort, upon occasions of more dangerous emergency mouth and chin of deity - singular, wild, full, liquid eyes, whose shadows varied from pure hazel to intense and brilliant jet - and profusion of curling, black hair, forehead of unusual breadth gleamed forth at intervals all light and ivory - his were features than which none more classically regular, except, perhaps, the marble ones Emperor Commodus Yet his countenance was, nevertheless, one which all men have seen at some period lives, never afterwards seen again It had no peculiar - it had no settled predominant expression fastened memory ; countenance seen and instantly forgotten - but forgotten with vague and never-ceasing desire of recalling it to mind Not spirit of each rapid passion failed, at , to throw its own distinct image mirror face - but mirror, mirror-like, retained no vestige passion, passion had departed

Upon leaving him night adventure, he solicited me, in what an urgent manner, upon him very early the next morning Shortly after sunrise, myself accordingly at his Palazzo, one huge structures of gloomy, yet fantastic pomp, which tower above the waters Grand Canal vicinity Rialto shown up broad winding staircase of mosaics, into an apartment whose unparalleled splendor burst opening door with an actual glare, making me blind and dizzy with luxuriousness

my acquaintance wealthy Report had spoken possessions in terms which I had even ventured terms of ridiculous exaggeration But as I gazed about me, bring myself wealth of any subject in Europe supplied the princely magnificence which burned and blazed around

Although, as , the sun had arisen, yet the room was still brilliantly lighted up I judge circumstance, as from an air of exhaustion countenance friend, that he retired to bed during the whole preceding night architecture and embellishments chamber, the evident design to dazzle and astound Little attention paid decora of technically called keeping_, or proprieties of nationality The eye wandered from object to object, and rested upon none - neither the grotesques Greek painters, nor the sculptures best Italian days, nor the huge carvings of untutored Egypt Rich draperies in every part room trembled vibration of low, melancholy music, whose origin was not discovered The senses were oppressed by mingled and conflicting perfumes, reeking up from strange convolute censers, together with multitudinous flaring and flickering tongues of emerald and violet fire The rays newly risen sun poured in whole, through windows, formed each of single pane of crimson-tinted glass Glancing to and fro, in thousand reflections, from curtains which rolled from their cornices like cataracts of molten silver, the beams of natural glory mingled fitfully artificial light, and lay weltering in subdued masses upon carpet of rich, liquid-looking cloth of Chili gold