The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 1

By Edgar Allan Poe

Page 114

ran up against you as we entered the street--it may have
been fifteen minutes ago."

I now remembered that, in fact, a fruiterer, carrying upon his head a
large basket of apples, had nearly thrown me down, by accident, as we
passed from the Rue C ---- into the thoroughfare where we stood; but
what this had to do with Chantilly I could not possibly understand.

There was not a particle of _charlatanerie_ about Dupin. "I will
explain," he said, "and that you may comprehend all clearly, we will
first retrace the course of your meditations, from the moment in which
I spoke to you until that of the _rencontre_ with the fruiterer in
question. The larger links of the chain run thus--Chantilly, Orion, Dr.
Nichols, Epicurus, Stereotomy, the street stones, the fruiterer."

There are few persons who have not, at some period of their lives,
amused themselves in retracing the steps by which particular conclusions
of their own minds have been attained. The occupation is often full of
interest and he who attempts it for the first time is astonished by
the apparently illimitable distance and incoherence between the
starting-point and the goal. What, then, must have been my amazement
when I heard the Frenchman speak what he had just spoken, and when I
could not help acknowledging that he had spoken the truth. He continued:

"We had been talking of horses, if I remember aright, just before
leaving the Rue C ----. This was the last subject we discussed. As we
crossed into this street, a fruiterer, with a large basket upon his
head, brushing quickly past us, thrust you upon a pile of paving stones
collected at a spot where the causeway is undergoing repair. You stepped
upon one of the loose fragments, slipped, slightly strained your ankle,
appeared vexed or sulky, muttered a few words, turned to look at the
pile, and then proceeded in silence. I was not particularly attentive to
what you did; but observation has become with me, of late, a species of
necessity.

"You kept your eyes upon the ground--glancing, with a petulant
expression, at the holes and ruts in the pavement, (so that I saw you
were still thinking of the stones,) until we reached the little alley
called Lamartine, which has been paved, by way of experiment, with the
overlapping and riveted blocks. Here your countenance brightened up,
and, perceiving your lips move, I could not doubt that you murmured the
word 'stereotomy,' a term very affectedly applied to this species of
pavement. I knew that you could not say to yourself 'stereotomy' without
being brought to think

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Text Comparison with Le Corbeau = The Raven

Page 0
_Ah! distinctement je me souviens que.
Page 1
»_ Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping--tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you"--here I opened wide the door:-- Darkness there and nothing more.
Page 2
Not the least obeisance made he; not an instant stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord and lady, perched above my chamber door-- Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-- .
Page 3
" _Je m'émerveillai fort d'entendre ce disgracieux volatile s'énoncer aussi clairement, quoique sa réponse n'eût que peu de sens et peu .
Page 4
" _Mais le Corbeau, perché solitairement sur ce buste placide, parla ce seul mot comme si, son âme, en ce seul mot, il la répandait.
Page 5
»_ But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-- What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking "Nevermore.
Page 6
» Le Corbeau dit: «Jamais plus!»_ "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 saintly maiden whom the angels name Lenore-- Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.
Page 7
" _«Que ce mot soit le signal de notre séparation, oiseau ou malin esprit,» hurlai-je, en me dressant.