The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket Comprising the details of a mutiny and atrocious butchery on board the American brig Grampus, on her way to the South Seas, in the month of June, 1827.

By Edgar Allan Poe

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the Penguin before he became
fully aware of his condition. In regard to myself--I was resuscitated
from a state bordering very nearly upon death (and after every other
means had been tried in vain for three hours and a half) by vigorous
friction with flannels bathed in hot oil--a proceeding suggested by
Augustus. The wound in my neck, although of an ugly appearance, proved
of little real consequence, and I soon recovered from its effects.

The Penguin got into port about nine o'clock in the morning, after
encountering one of the severest gales ever experienced off Nantucket.
Both Augustus and myself managed to appear at Mr. Barnard's in time for
breakfast--which, luckily, was somewhat late, owing to the party over
night. I suppose all at the table were too much fatigued themselves to
notice our jaded appearance--of course, it would not have borne a very
rigid scrutiny. Schoolboys, however, can accomplish wonders in the way
of deception, and I verily believe not one of our friends in Nantucket
had the slightest suspicion that the terrible story told by some
sailors in town of their having run down a vessel at sea and drowned
some thirty or forty poor devils, had reference either to the Ariel, my
companion, or myself. We two have since very frequently talked the
matter over--but never without a shudder. In one of our conversations
Augustus frankly confessed to me, that in his whole life he had at no
time experienced so excruciating a sense of dismay, as when on board
our little boat he first discovered the extent of his intoxication, and
felt himself sinking beneath its influence.


In no affairs of mere prejudice, pro or con, do we deduce inferences
with entire certainty even from the most simple data. It might be
supposed that a catastrophe such as I have just related would have
effectually cooled my incipient passion for the sea. On the contrary, I
never experienced a more ardent longing for the wild adventures
incident to the life of a navigator than within a week after our
miraculous deliverance. This short period proved amply long enough to
erase from my memory the shadows, and bring out in vivid light all the
pleasurably exciting points of colour, all the picturesqueness of the
late perilous accident. My conversations with Augustus grew daily more
frequent and more intensely full of interest. He had a manner of
relating his stories of the ocean (more than one half of which I now
suspect to have been sheer fabrications) well adapted to have weight
with one of my enthusiastic temperament, and somewhat gloomy, although
glowing imagination.

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Text Comparison with First Project Gutenberg Collection of Edgar Allan Poe

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And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me--filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my.
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Not the least.
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" Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning--little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door-- Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as "Nevermore.
Page 3
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee--by these angels he hath sent thee Respite--respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore.
Page 4
" "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us--by that God we both adore-- Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore-- Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.
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Here the case was very different, as might have been expected from the duke's love of the _bizarre_.
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And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and fantastic appearances.
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His followers felt that he was not.
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Even with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are.
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The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to resemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest scrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat.
Page 10
_At length_ I would be avenged; this was a point definitely settled--but the very definitiveness with which it was resolved, precluded the idea of risk.
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I said to him--"My dear Fortunato, you are luckily met.
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You are a man to be missed.
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I paused again, and this time I made bold to seize Fortunato by an arm above the elbow.
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Indeed, it is _very_ damp.
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But now there came from out the niche a low laugh that erected the hairs upon my head.
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For the half of a century no mortal has disturbed them.