he castle of the Prince of Tolfi was built on the summit of the towering and precipitous rock of Scylla, and commanded a magnificent view of Sicily in all its grandeur1. Here, during the wars of the Middle Ages, when the fertile plains of Italy were devastated2 by hostile factions3, those prisoners were confined, for whose ransom4 a costly5 price was demanded. Here, too, in a dungeon6 excavated7 deep in the solid rock, the miserable8 victim was immured9, whom revenge pursued,—the dark, fierce, and unpitying revenge of an Italian heart.
Vivenzio,—the noble and the generous, the fearless in battle, and the pride of Naples in her sunny hours of peace,—the young, the brave, the proud Vivenzio,—fell beneath this subtle and remorseless spirit. He was the prisoner of Tolfi; and he languished10 in that rock-encircled dungeon, which stood alone, and whose portals never opened twice upon a living captive.
It had the semblance12 of a vast cage; for the roof and floor and sides were of iron, solidly wrought13 and spaciously[109] constructed. High above ran a range of seven grated windows, guarded with massy bars of the same metal, which admitted light and air. Save these, and the tall folding-doors beneath them, which occupied the centre, no chink or chasm15 or projection16 broke the smooth, black surface of the walls. An iron bedstead, littered with straw, stood in one corner, and, beside it, a vessel17 of water, and a coarse dish filled with coarser food.
Even the intrepid18 soul of Vivenzio shrunk with dismay as he entered this abode19, and heard the ponderous20 doors triple-locked by the silent ruffians who conducted him to it. Their silence seemed prophetic of his fate, of the living grave that had been prepared for him. His menaces and his entreaties21, his indignant appeals for justice, and his impatient questioning of their intentions, were alike vain. They listened but spoke23 not. Fit ministers of a crime that should have no tongue!
How dismal24 was the sound of their retiring steps! And, as their faint echoes died along the winding25 passages, a fearful presage26 grew within him, that nevermore the face or voice or tread of man would greet his senses. He had seen human beings for the last time! And he had looked his last upon the bright sky and upon the smiling earth and upon a beautiful world he loved, and whose minion27 he had been! Here he was to end his life,—a life he had just begun to revel28 in! And by what means? By secret poison? or by murderous assault? No; for then it had been needless to bring him thither29. Famine, perhaps,—a thousand deaths in one! It was terrible to think of it; but it was yet more terrible[110] to picture long, long years of captivity30 in a solitude31 so appalling32, a loneliness so dreary33, that thought, for want of fellowship, would lose itself in madness, or stagnate34 into idiocy35.
He could not hope to escape, unless he had the power, with his bare hands, of rending36 asunder37 the solid iron walls of his prison. He could not hope for liberty from the relenting mercies of his enemy. His instant death, under any form of refined cruelty, was not the object of Tolfi; for he might have inflicted38 it, and he had not. It was too evident, therefore, he was reserved for some premeditated scheme of subtle vengeance40; and what vengeance could transcend41 in fiendish malice42, either the slow death of famine, or the still slower one of solitary43 incarceration44 till the last lingering spark of life expired, or till reason fled, and nothing should remain to perish but the brute45 functions of the body?
It was evening when Vivenzio entered his dungeon; and the approaching shades of night wrapped it in total darkness, as he paced up and down, revolving46 in his mind these horrible forebodings. No tolling47 bell from the castle, or from any neighboring church or convent, struck upon his ears to tell how the hours passed. Frequently he would stop and listen for some sound that might betoken48 the vicinity of man; but the solitude of the desert, the silence of the tomb, are not so still and deep as the oppressive desolation by which he was encompassed49. His heart sunk within him, and he threw himself dejectedly upon his couch of straw. Here sleep gradually obliterated50 the consciousness of misery51; and bland52 dreams wafted53 his delighted spirit to scenes which were[111] once glowing realities for him, in whose ravishing illusions he soon lost the remembrance that he was Tolfi’s prisoner.
When he awoke, it was daylight; but how long he had slept he knew not. It might be early morning, or it might be sultry noon; for he could measure time by no other note of its progress than light and darkness. He had been so happy in his sleep, amid friends who loved him, and the sweeter endearments54 of those who loved him as friends could not, that, in the first moments of waking, his startled mind seemed to admit the knowledge of his situation, as if it had burst upon it for the first time, fresh in all its appalling horrors. He gazed round with an air of doubt and amazement55, and took up a handful of the straw upon which he lay, as though he would ask himself what it meant. But memory, too faithful to her office, soon unveiled the melancholy56 past, while reason, shuddering57 at the task, flashed before his eyes the tremendous future. The contrast overpowered him. He remained for some time lamenting58, like a truth, the bright visions that had vanished, and recoiling59 from the present, which clung to him as a poisoned garment.
When he grew more calm, he surveyed his gloomy dungeon. Alas60! the stronger light of day only served to confirm what the gloomy indistinctness of the preceding evening had partially61 disclosed,—the utter impossibility of escape. As, however, his eyes wandered round and round, and from place to place, he noticed two circumstances which excited his surprise and curiosity. The one, he thought, might be fancy; but the[112] other was positive. His pitcher62 of water, and the dish which contained his food, had been removed from his side while he slept, and now stood near the door. Were he even inclined to doubt this, by supposing he had mistaken the spot where he saw them over night, he could not; for the pitcher now in his dungeon was neither of the same form nor color as the other, while the food was changed for some other of better quality. He had been visited therefore during the night. But how had the person obtained entrance? Could he have slept so soundly that the unlocking and opening of those ponderous portals were effected without waking him? He would have said this was not possible, but that, in doing so, he must admit a greater difficulty, an entrance by other means, of which, he was convinced, none existed. It was not intended, then, that he should be left to perish from hunger; but the secret and mysterious mode of supplying him with food seemed to indicate he was to have no opportunity of communicating with a human being.
The other circumstance which had attracted his notice was the disappearance63, as he believed, of one of the seven grated windows that ran along the top of his prison. He felt confident that he had observed and counted them; for he was rather surprised at their number, and there was something peculiar64 in their form, as well as in the manner of their arrangement, at unequal distances. It was so much easier, however, to suppose he was mistaken, than that a portion of the solid iron, which formed the walls, could have escaped from its position, that he soon dismissed the thought from his mind.
[113]
Vivenzio partook of the food that was before him without apprehension65. It might be poisoned; but, if it were, he knew he could not escape death, should such be the design of Tolfi; and the quickest death would be the speediest relief.
The day passed wearily and gloomily, though not without a faint hope that, by keeping watch at night, he might observe when the person came again to bring him food, which he supposed he would do in the same way as before. The mere66 thought of being approached by a living creature, and the opportunity it might present of learning the doom67 prepared or preparing for him, imparted some comfort. Besides, if he came alone, might he not in a furious onset68 overpower him? Or he might be accessible to pity, or the influence of such munificent69 rewards as he could bestow70 if once more at liberty, and master of himself. Say he were armed. The worst that could befall, if nor bribe71 nor prayers nor force prevailed, was a faithful blow, which, though dealt in a damned cause, might work a desired end. There was no chance so desperate but it looked lovely in Vivenzio’s eyes, compared with the idea of being totally abandoned.
The night came, and Vivenzio watched. Morning came, and Vivenzio was confounded! He must have slumbered72 without knowing it. Sleep must have stolen over him when exhausted73 by fatigue74; and, in that interval75 of feverish76 repose77, he had been baffled: for there stood his replenished78 pitcher of water, and there his day’s meal! Nor was this all. Casting his looks toward the windows of his dungeon, he counted but five! Here was no deception79; and he was now convinced there[114] had been none the day before. But what did all this portend80? Into what strange and mysterious den39 had he been cast? He gazed till his eyes ached; he could discover nothing to explain the mystery. That it was so, he knew. Why it was so, he racked his imagination in vain to conjecture81. He examined the doors. A simple circumstance convinced him they had not been opened.
A wisp of straw, which he had carelessly thrown against them the preceding day, as he paced to and fro, remained where he had cast it, though it must have been displaced by the slightest motion of either of the doors. This was evidence that could not be disputed; and it followed there must be some secret machinery82 in the walls by which a person could enter. He inspected them closely. They appeared to him one solid and compact mass of iron; or joined, if joined they were, with such nice art that no mark of division was perceptible. Again and again he surveyed them, and the floor and the roof, and that range of visionary windows, as he was now almost tempted83 to consider them: he could discover nothing, absolutely nothing, to relieve his doubts or satisfy his curiosity. Sometimes he fancied that altogether the dungeon had a more contracted appearance,—that it looked smaller; but this he ascribed to fancy, and the impression naturally produced upon his mind by the undeniable disappearance of two of the windows.
With intense anxiety, Vivenzio looked forward to the return of night; and, as it approached, he resolved that no treacherous84 sleep should again betray him. Instead of seeking his bed of straw, he continued to walk up and[115] down his dungeon till daylight, straining his eyes in every direction through the darkness, to watch for any appearances that might explain these mysteries. While thus engaged, and, as nearly as he could judge (by the time that afterward85 elapsed before the morning came in), about two o’clock, there was a slight, tremulous motion of the floors. He stooped. The motion lasted nearly a minute: but it was so extremely gentle that he almost doubted whether it was real, or only imaginary. He listened. Not a sound could be heard. Presently, however, he felt a rush of cold air blow upon him; and, dashing toward the quarter whence it seemed to proceed, he stumbled over something which he judged to be the water ewer86. The rush of cold air was no longer perceptible; and, as Vivenzio stretched out his hands, he found himself close to the walls. He remained motionless for a considerable time; but nothing occurred during the remainder of the night to excite his attention, though he continued to watch with unabated vigilance.
The first approaches of the morning were visible through the grated windows, breaking, with faint divisions of light, the darkness that still pervaded87 every other part, long before Vivenzio was enabled to distinguish any object in his dungeon. Instinctively88 and fearfully he turned his eyes, hot and inflamed89 with watching, toward them. There were four! He could see only four: but it might be that some intervening object prevented the fifth from becoming perceptible; and he waited impatiently to ascertain91 if it were so. As the light strengthened, however, and penetrated92 every corner of the cell, other objects of amazement struck his sight. On the[116] ground lay the broken fragments of the pitcher he had used the day before, and, at a small distance from them, nearer to the wall, stood the one he had noticed the first night. It was filled with water, and beside it was his food. He was now certain, that, by some mechanical contrivance, an opening was obtained through the iron wall, and that through this opening the current of air had found entrance. But how noiseless! for, had a feather even waved at the time, he must have heard it. Again he examined that part of the wall; but both to sight and touch it appeared one even and uniform surface, while, to repeated and violent blows, there was no reverberating93 sound indicative of hollowness.
This perplexing mystery had for a time withdrawn94 his thoughts from the windows; but now, directing his eyes again toward them, he saw that the fifth had disappeared in the same manner as the preceding two, without the least distinguishable alteration96 of external appearances. The remaining four looked as the seven had originally looked; that is, occupying at irregular distances the top of the wall on that side of the dungeon. The tall folding-door, too, still seemed to stand beneath, in the centre of these four, as it had first stood in the centre of the seven. But he could no longer doubt what, on the preceding day, he fancied might be the effect of visual deception. The dungeon was smaller. The roof had lowered; and the opposite ends had contracted the intermediate distance by a space equal, he thought, to that over which the three windows had extended. He was bewildered in vain imaginings to account for these things. Some frightful97 purpose, some devilish torture of mind or body,[117] some unheard-of device for producing exquisite98 misery, lurked99, he was sure, in what had taken place.
Oppressed with this belief, and distracted more by the dreadful uncertainty100 of whatever fate impended101 than he could be dismayed, he thought, by the knowledge of the worst, he sat ruminating102, hour after hour, yielding his fears in succession to every haggard fancy. At last a horrible suspicion flashed suddenly across his mind, and he started up with a frantic103 air. “Yes!” he exclaimed, looking wildly round his dungeon, and shuddering as he spoke,—“yes! it must be so! I see it! I feel the maddening truth like scorching104 flames upon my brain! Eternal God! support me! it must be so! Yes, yes, that is to be my fate! Yon roof will descend105! these walls will hem14 me round, and slowly, slowly, crush me in their iron arms! Lord God! look down upon me, and in mercy strike me with instant death! O fiend! O devil!—is this your revenge?”
He dashed himself upon the ground in agony, tears burst from him, and the sweat stood in large drops upon his face: he sobbed106 aloud, he tore his hair, he rolled about like one suffering intolerable anguish11 of body, and would have bitten the iron floor beneath him; he breathed fearful curses upon Tolfi, and the next moment passionate107 prayers to Heaven for immediate108 death. Then the violence of his grief became exhausted; and he lay still, weeping as a child would weep. The twilight109 of departing day shed its gloom around him ere he arose from that posture110 of utter and hopeless sorrow. He had taken no food. Not one drop of water had cooled the fever of his parched111 lips. Sleep had not visited his eyes[118] for six-and-thirty hours. He was faint with hunger; weary with watching, and with the excess of his emotions. He tasted of his food; he drank with avidity of the water, and reeling, like a drunken man, to his straw, cast himself upon it to brood again over the appalling image that had fastened itself upon his almost frenzied112 thoughts.
He slept; but his slumbers113 were not tranquil114. He resisted, as long as he could, their approach; and when, at last, enfeebled nature yielded to their influence, he found no oblivion from his cares. Terrible dreams haunted him; ghastly visions harrowed up his imagination; he shouted and screamed, as if he already felt the dungeon’s ponderous roof descending115 on him; he breathed hard and thick, as though writhing116 between its iron walls. Then would he spring up, stare wildly about him, stretch forth117 his hands to be sure he yet had space enough to live, and, muttering some incoherent words, sink down again, to pass through the same fierce vicissitudes118 of delirious119 sleep.
The morning of the fourth day dawned upon Vivenzio; but it was high noon before his mind shook off its stupor120, or he awoke to a full consciousness of his situation. And what a fixed121 energy of despair sat upon his pale features as he cast his eyes upwards122, and gazed upon the three windows that now alone remained! The three!—there were no more! and they seemed to number his own allotted123 days. Slowly and calmly he next surveyed the top and sides, and comprehended all the meaning of the diminished height of the former, as well as of the gradual approximation of the latter. The contracted dimensions[119] of his mysterious prison were now too gross and palpable to be the juggle124 of his heated imagination.
Still lost in wonder at the means, Vivenzio could put no cheat upon his reason as to the end. By what horrible ingenuity125 it was contrived126, that walls and roofs and windows should thus silently and imperceptibly, without noise and without motion, almost fold, as it were, within each other, he knew not. He only knew they did so; and he vainly strove to persuade himself it was the intention of the contriver127 to rack the miserable wretch128 who might be immured there with anticipation129 merely of a fate from which, in the very crisis of his agony, he was to be reprieved130.
Gladly would he have clung even to this possibility, if his heart would have let him; but he felt a dreadful assurance of its fallacy. And what matchless inhumanity it was to doom the sufferer to such lingering torments131; to lead him day by day to so appalling a death, unsupported by the consolations132 of religion, unvisited by any human being, abandoned to himself, deserted133 of all, and denied even the sad privilege of knowing that his cruel destiny would awaken134 pity! Alone he was to perish! Alone he was to wait a slow-coming torture, whose most exquisite pangs135 would be inflicted by that very solitude and that tardy137 coming.
“It is not death I fear,” he exclaimed, “but the death I must prepare for! Methinks, too, I could meet even that, all horrible and revolting as it is,—if it might overtake me now. But where shall I find fortitude138 to tarry till it come? How can I outlive the three long days and nights I have to live? There is no power within me to[120] bid the hideous139 spectre hence; none to make it familiar to my thoughts, or myself patient of its errand. My thoughts rather will flee from me, and I grow mad in looking at it. Oh! for a deep sleep to fall upon me! That so, in death’s likeness140, I might embrace death itself, and drink no more of the cup that is presented to me than my fainting spirit has already tasted!”
In the midst of these lamentations, Vivenzio noticed that his accustomed meal, with the pitcher of water, had been conveyed, as before, into his dungeon. But this circumstance no longer excited his surprise. His mind was overwhelmed with others of a far greater magnitude. It suggested, however, a feeble hope of deliverance; and there is no hope so feeble as not to yield some support to a heart bending under despair. He resolved to watch, during the ensuing night, for the signs he had before observed, and, should he again feel the gentle, tremulous motion of the floor, or the current of air, to seize that moment for giving audible expression to his misery. Some person must be near him, and within reach of his voice, at the instant when his food was supplied; some one, perhaps, susceptible141 of pity. Or, if not, to be told even that his apprehensions142 were just, and that his fate was to be what he foreboded, would be preferable to a suspense143 which hung upon the possibility of his worst fears being visionary.
The night came; and, as the hour approached when Vivenzio imagined he might expect the signs, he stood fixed and silent as a statue. He feared to breathe, almost, lest he might lose any sound which would warn him of their coming. While thus listening, with every[121] faculty144 of mind and body strained to an agony of attention, it occurred to him he should be more sensible of the motion, probably, if he stretched himself along the iron floor. He accordingly laid himself softly down, and had not been long in that position when—yes—he was certain of it—the floor moved under him! He sprang up, and, in a voice suffocated145 nearly with emotion, called aloud. He paused—the motion ceased—he felt no stream of air—all was hushed—no voice answered to his—he burst into tears; and, as he sunk to the ground, in renewed anguish, exclaimed, “O my God! my God! You alone have power to save me now, or strengthen me for the trial you permit.”
Another morning dawned upon the wretched captive, and the fatal index of his doom met his eyes. Two windows!—and two days—and all would be over! Fresh food—fresh water! The mysterious visit had been paid, though he had implored146 it in vain. But how awfully147 was his prayer answered in what he now saw! The roof of the dungeon was within a foot of his head. The two ends were so near that in six paces he trod the space between them. Vivenzio shuddered148 as he gazed, and as his steps traversed the narrow area; but his feelings no longer vented90 themselves in frantic wailings. With folded arms, and clenched149 teeth; with eyes that were bloodshot from much watching, and fixed with a vacant glare upon the ground; with a hard, quick breathing, and a hurried walk,—he strode backward and forward in silent musing150 for several hours. What mind shall conceive, what tongue utter, or what pen describe, the dark and terrible character of his thoughts? Like the fate that[122] moulded them, they had no similitude in the wide range of this world’s agony for man. Suddenly he stopped, and his eyes were riveted151 upon that part of the wall which was over his bed of straw. Words are inscribed152 there! A human language, traced by a human hand! He rushes toward them; but his blood freezes as he reads,—
“I, Ludovico Sforza, tempted by the gold of the Prince of Tolfi, spent three years in contriving153 and executing this accursed triumph of my art. When it was completed, the perfidious154 Tolfi, more devil than man, who conducted me hither one morning to be witness, as he said, of its perfection, doomed155 me to be the first victim of my own pernicious skill; lest, as he declared, I should divulge156 the secret, or repeat the effort of my ingenuity. May God pardon him, as I hope he will me, that ministered to his unhallowed purpose. Miserable wretch, whoe’er thou art, that readest these lines, fall on thy knees, and invoke157, as I have done, His sustaining mercy who alone can nerve thee to meet the vengeance of Tolfi, armed with his tremendous engine which, in a few hours, must crush you, as it will the needy158 wretch who made it.”
A deep groan159 burst from Vivenzio. He stood, like one transfixed, with dilated160 eyes, expanded nostrils161, and quivering lips, gazing at this fatal inscription162. It was as if a voice from the sepulchre had sounded in his ears, “Prepare.” Hope forsook163 him. There was his sentence, recorded in those dismal words. The future stood unveiled before him, ghastly and appalling. His brain already feels the descending horror; his bones seem to crack and crumble164 in the mighty165 grasp of the iron walls![123] Unknowing what it is he does, he fumbles166 in his garment for some weapon of self-destruction. He clenches167 his throat in his convulsive gripe, as though he would strangle himself at once. He stares upon the walls; and his warring spirit demands, “Will they not anticipate their office if I dash my head against them?” An hysterical168 laugh chokes him as he exclaims, “Why should I? He was but a man who died first in their fierce embrace; and I should be less than man not to do as much!”
The evening sun was descending, and Vivenzio beheld169 its golden beams streaming through one of the windows. What a thrill of joy shot through his soul at the sight! It was a precious link that united him, for the moment, with the world beyond. There was ecstasy170 in the thought.
As he gazed, long and earnestly, it seemed as if the windows had lowered sufficiently171 for him to reach them. With one bound, he was beneath them; with one wild spring, he clung to the bars. Whether it was so contrived, purposely to madden with delight the wretch who looked, he knew not; but, at the extremity172 of a long vista173 cut through the solid rocks, the ocean, the sky, the setting sun, olive groves174, shady walks, and, in the farthest distance, delicious glimpses of magnificent Sicily, burst upon his sight. How exquisite was the cool breeze as it swept across his cheek, loaded with fragrance175! He inhaled176 it as though it were the breath of continued life. And there was a freshness in the landscape, and in the rippling177 of the calm, green sea, that fell upon his withering178 heart like dew upon the parched earth. How he gazed, and panted, and still clung to his hold! sometimes[124] hanging by one hand, sometimes by the other, and then grasping the bars with both, as loath179 to quit the smiling paradise outstretched before him; till, exhausted, and his hands swollen180 and benumbed, he dropped helpless down, and lay stunned181 for a considerable time by the fall.
When he recovered, the glorious vision had vanished. He was in darkness. He doubted whether it was not a dream that had passed before his sleeping fancy; but gradually his scattered182 thoughts returned, and with them came remembrance. Yes! he had looked once again upon the gorgeous splendor183 of nature! Once again his eyes had trembled beneath their veiled lids at the sun’s radiance, and sought repose in the soft verdure of the olive-tree or the gentle swell184 of undulating waves. O that he were a mariner185, exposed upon those waves to the worst fury of storm and tempest, or a very wretch, loathsome186 with disease, plague-stricken, and his body one leprous contagion187 from crown to sole, hunted forth to gasp188 out the remnant of infectious life beneath those verdant189 trees, so he might shun190 the destiny upon whose edge he tottered191!
Vain thoughts like these would steal over his mind from time to time, in spite of himself; but they scarcely moved it from that stupor into which it had sunk, and which kept him, during the whole night, like one who had been drugged with opium192. He was equally insensible to the calls of hunger and of thirst, though the third day was now commencing since even a drop of water had passed his lips. He remained on the ground, sometimes sitting, sometimes lying; at intervals193 sleeping heavily, and, when[125] not sleeping, silently brooding over what was to come, or talking aloud, in disordered speech, of his wrongs, of his friends, of his home, and of those he loved, with a confused mingling194 of all.
In this pitiable condition, the sixth and last morning dawned upon Vivenzio, if dawn it might be called,—the dim, obscure light which faintly struggled through the one solitary window of his dungeon. He could hardly be said to notice the melancholy token. And yet he did notice it; for, as he raised his eyes and saw the portentous195 sign, there was a slight convulsive distortion of his countenance196. But what did attract his notice, and at the sight of which his agitation197 was excessive, was the change the iron bed had undergone. It was a bed no longer. It stood before him, the visible semblance of a funeral couch or bier! When he beheld this, he started from the ground; and, in raising himself, suddenly struck his head against the roof, which was now so low that he could no longer stand upright. “God’s will be done!” was all he said, as he crouched198 his body, and placed his hand upon the bier; for such it was. The iron bedstead had been so contrived, by the mechanical art of Ludovico Sforza, that, as the advancing walls came in contact with its head and feet, a pressure was produced upon concealed199 springs, which, when made to play, set in motion a very simple though ingeniously contrived machinery that effected the transformation200. The object was, of course, to heighten, in the closing scene of this horrible drama, all the feelings of despair and anguish which the preceding one had aroused. For the same reason, the last window was so made as to admit only a shadowy[126] kind of gloom rather than light, that the wretched captive might be surrounded, as it were, with every seeming preparation for approaching death.
Vivenzio seated himself on his bier. Then he knelt and prayed fervently201; and sometimes tears would gush202 from him. The air seemed thick, and he breathed with difficulty; or it might be that he fancied it was so, from the hot and narrow limits of his dungeon, which were now so diminished that he could neither stand up nor lie down at his full length. But his wasted spirits and oppressed mind no longer struggled with him. He was past hope, and fear shook him no more. Happy if thus revenge had struck its final blow; for he would have fallen beneath it almost unconscious of a pang136. But such a lethargy of the soul, after such an excitement of its fiercest passions, had entered into the diabolical203 calculations of Tolfi; and the fell artificer of his designs had imagined a counteracting204 device.
The tolling of an enormous bell struck upon the ears of Vivenzio! He started. It beat but once. The sound was so close and stunning205 that it seemed to shatter his very brain, while it echoed through the rocky passages like reverberating peals22 of thunder. This was followed by a sudden crash of the roof and walls, as if they were about to fall upon and close around him at once. Vivenzio screamed, and instinctively spread forth his arms, as though he had a giant’s strength to hold them back. They had moved nearer to him, and were now motionless. Vivenzio looked up, and saw the roof almost touching206 his head, even as he sat cowering207 beneath it; and he felt that a further contraction208 of but a[127] few inches only must commence the frightful operation. Roused as he had been, he now gasped209 for breath. His body shook violently; he was bent210 nearly double. His hands rested upon either wall, and his feet were drawn95 under him to avoid the pressure in front. Thus he remained for more than an hour, when that deafening211 bell beat again, and again came the crash of horrid212 death. But the concussion213 was now so great that it struck Vivenzio down. As he lay gathered up in lessened214 bulk, the bell beat loud and frequent; crash succeeded crash; and on and on and on came the mysterious engine of death, till Vivenzio’s smothered215 groans216 were heard no more. He was horribly crushed by the ponderous roof and collapsing217 sides; and the flattened218 bier was his iron shroud219.
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grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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devastated
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| v.彻底破坏( devastate的过去式和过去分词)；摧毁；毁灭；在感情上（精神上、财务上等）压垮adj.毁坏的；极为震惊的 | |
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factions
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| 组织中的小派别，派系( faction的名词复数 ) | |
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ransom
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| n.赎金，赎身；v.赎回，解救 | |
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costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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dungeon
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| n.地牢，土牢 | |
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excavated
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| v.挖掘( excavate的过去式和过去分词 )；开凿；挖出；发掘 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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immured
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| v.禁闭，监禁( immure的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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languished
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| 长期受苦( languish的过去式和过去分词 )； 受折磨； 变得（越来越）衰弱； 因渴望而变得憔悴或闷闷不乐 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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12
semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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13
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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14
hem
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| n.贴边，镶边；vt.缝贴边；(in)包围，限制 | |
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15
chasm
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| n.深坑，断层，裂口，大分岐，利害冲突 | |
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16
projection
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| n.发射，计划，突出部分 | |
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17
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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18
intrepid
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| adj.无畏的，刚毅的 | |
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19
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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20
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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21
entreaties
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| n.恳求，乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
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22
peals
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| n.（声音大而持续或重复的）洪亮的响声( peal的名词复数 )；隆隆声；洪亮的钟声；钟乐v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的第三人称单数 ) | |
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23
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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24
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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25
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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26
presage
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| n.预感，不祥感；v.预示 | |
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27
minion
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| n.宠仆；宠爱之人 | |
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28
revel
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| vi.狂欢作乐，陶醉；n.作乐，狂欢 | |
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29
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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30
captivity
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| n.囚禁；被俘；束缚 | |
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31
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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32
appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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33
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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34
stagnate
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| v.停止 | |
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35
idiocy
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| n.愚蠢 | |
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36
rending
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| v.撕碎( rend的现在分词 )；分裂；（因愤怒、痛苦等而）揪扯（衣服或头发等）；（声音等）刺破 | |
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37
asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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38
inflicted
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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39
den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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40
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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41
transcend
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| vt.超出，超越(理性等)的范围 | |
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42
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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43
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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44
incarceration
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| n.监禁，禁闭；钳闭 | |
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45
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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46
revolving
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| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
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47
tolling
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| [财]来料加工 | |
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48
betoken
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| v.预示 | |
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49
encompassed
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| v.围绕( encompass的过去式和过去分词 )；包围；包含；包括 | |
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50
obliterated
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| v.除去( obliterate的过去式和过去分词 )；涂去；擦掉；彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
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51
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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52
bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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53
wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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54
endearments
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| n.表示爱慕的话语，亲热的表示( endearment的名词复数 ) | |
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55
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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56
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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57
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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58
lamenting
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| adj.悲伤的，悲哀的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的现在分词 ) | |
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59
recoiling
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| v.畏缩( recoil的现在分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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60
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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61
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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62
pitcher
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| n.(有嘴和柄的)大水罐；(棒球)投手 | |
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63
disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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64
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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65
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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66
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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67
doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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68
onset
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| n.进攻，袭击，开始，突然开始 | |
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69
munificent
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| adj.慷慨的，大方的 | |
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70
bestow
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| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
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71
bribe
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| n.贿赂；v.向…行贿，买通 | |
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72
slumbered
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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73
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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74
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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75
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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76
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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77
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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78
replenished
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| 补充( replenish的过去式和过去分词 )； 重新装满 | |
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79
deception
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| n.欺骗，欺诈；骗局，诡计 | |
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80
portend
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| v.预兆，预示；给…以警告 | |
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81
conjecture
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| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
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82
machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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83
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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84
treacherous
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|
| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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85
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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86
ewer
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| n.大口水罐 | |
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87
pervaded
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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88
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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89
inflamed
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| adj.发炎的，红肿的v.（使）变红，发怒，过热( inflame的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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90
vented
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| 表达，发泄（感情，尤指愤怒）( vent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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91
ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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92
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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93
reverberating
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| 回响，回荡( reverberate的现在分词 )； 使反响，使回荡，使反射 | |
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94
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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95
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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96
alteration
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| n.变更，改变；蚀变 | |
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97
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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98
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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99
lurked
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| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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100
uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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101
impended
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| v.进行威胁，即将发生( impend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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102
ruminating
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| v.沉思( ruminate的现在分词 )；反复考虑；反刍；倒嚼 | |
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103
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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104
scorching
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| adj. 灼热的 | |
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105
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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106
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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107
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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108
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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109
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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110
posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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111
parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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112
frenzied
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| a.激怒的；疯狂的 | |
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113
slumbers
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| 睡眠，安眠( slumber的名词复数 ) | |
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114
tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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115
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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116
writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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117
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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118
vicissitudes
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| n.变迁，世事变化；变迁兴衰( vicissitude的名词复数 )；盛衰兴废 | |
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119
delirious
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| adj.不省人事的，神智昏迷的 | |
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120
stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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121
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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122
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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123
allotted
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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124
juggle
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| v.变戏法，纂改，欺骗，同时做；n.玩杂耍，纂改，花招 | |
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125
ingenuity
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| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
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126
contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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127
contriver
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| 发明者，创制者，筹划者 | |
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128
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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129
anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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130
reprieved
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| v.缓期执行（死刑）( reprieve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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131
torments
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| （肉体或精神上的）折磨，痛苦( torment的名词复数 )； 造成痛苦的事物[人] | |
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132
consolations
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| n.安慰，慰问( consolation的名词复数 )；起安慰作用的人（或事物） | |
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133
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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134
awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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135
pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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136
pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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137
tardy
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| adj.缓慢的，迟缓的 | |
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138
fortitude
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| n.坚忍不拔；刚毅 | |
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139
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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140
likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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141
susceptible
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| adj.过敏的，敏感的；易动感情的，易受感动的 | |
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142
apprehensions
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| 疑惧 | |
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143
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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144
faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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145
suffocated
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| （使某人）窒息而死( suffocate的过去式和过去分词 )； （将某人）闷死； 让人感觉闷热； 憋气 | |
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146
implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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147
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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148
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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149
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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150
musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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151
riveted
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| 铆接( rivet的过去式和过去分词 )； 把…固定住； 吸引； 引起某人的注意 | |
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152
inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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153
contriving
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| （不顾困难地）促成某事( contrive的现在分词 )； 巧妙地策划，精巧地制造（如机器）； 设法做到 | |
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154
perfidious
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| adj.不忠的，背信弃义的 | |
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155
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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156
divulge
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| v.泄漏(秘密等)；宣布，公布 | |
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157
invoke
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| v.求助于(神、法律)；恳求，乞求 | |
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158
needy
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| adj.贫穷的，贫困的，生活艰苦的 | |
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159
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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160
dilated
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| adj.加宽的，扩大的v.（使某物）扩大，膨胀，张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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161
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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162
inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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163
forsook
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| forsake的过去式 | |
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164
crumble
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| vi.碎裂，崩溃；vt.弄碎，摧毁 | |
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165
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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166
fumbles
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| 摸索，笨拙的处理( fumble的名词复数 ) | |
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167
clenches
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的第三人称单数 ) | |
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168
hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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169
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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170
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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171
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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172
extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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173
vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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174
groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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175
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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176
inhaled
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| v.吸入( inhale的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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177
rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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178
withering
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| 使人畏缩的，使人害羞的，使人难堪的 | |
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179
loath
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| adj.不愿意的；勉强的 | |
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180
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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181
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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182
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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183
splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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184
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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185
mariner
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| n.水手号不载人航天探测器，海员，航海者 | |
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186
loathsome
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| adj.讨厌的，令人厌恶的 | |
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187
contagion
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| n.(通过接触的疾病)传染；蔓延 | |
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188
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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189
verdant
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| adj.翠绿的，青翠的，生疏的，不老练的 | |
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190
shun
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| vt.避开，回避，避免 | |
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191
tottered
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| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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192
opium
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| n.鸦片；adj.鸦片的 | |
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193
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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194
mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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195
portentous
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| adj.不祥的，可怕的，装腔作势的 | |
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196
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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197
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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198
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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199
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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200
transformation
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| n.变化；改造；转变 | |
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201
fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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202
gush
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| v.喷，涌；滔滔不绝(说话)；n.喷，涌流；迸发 | |
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203
diabolical
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| adj.恶魔似的，凶暴的 | |
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204
counteracting
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| 对抗，抵消( counteract的现在分词 ) | |
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205
stunning
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| adj.极好的；使人晕倒的 | |
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206
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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207
cowering
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的现在分词 ) | |
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208
contraction
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| n.缩略词，缩写式，害病 | |
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209
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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210
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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211
deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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212
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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213
concussion
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| n.脑震荡；震动 | |
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214
lessened
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| 减少的，减弱的 | |
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215
smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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216
groans
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| n.呻吟，叹息( groan的名词复数 )；呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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217
collapsing
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| 压扁[平]，毁坏，断裂 | |
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218
flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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219
shroud
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| n.裹尸布，寿衣；罩，幕；vt.覆盖，隐藏 | |
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