-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Эдгар Алан По
-
- Лигейя
-
- Стр. 1/8
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Ligeia
I
can
not
,
for
my
soul
,
remember
how
,
when
,
or
even
precisely
where
,
I
first
became
acquainted
with
the
lady
Ligeia
.
Long
years
have
since
elapsed
,
and
my
memory
is
feeble
through
much
suffering
.
Or
,
perhaps
,
I
can
not
now
bring
these
points
to
mind
,
because
,
in
truth
,
the
character
of
my
beloved
,
her
rare
learning
,
her
singular
yet
placid
cast
of
beauty
,
and
the
thrilling
and
enthralling
eloquence
of
her
low
musical
language
,
made
their
way
into
my
heart
by
paces
so
steadily
and
stealthily
progressive
that
they
have
been
unnoticed
and
unknown
.
Yet
I
believe
that
I
met
her
first
and
most
frequently
in
some
large
,
old
,
decaying
city
near
the
Rhine
.
Of
her
family
--
I
have
surely
heard
her
speak
.
That
it
is
of
a
remotely
ancient
date
can
not
be
doubted
.
Ligeia
!
Ligeia
!
in
studies
of
a
nature
more
than
all
else
adapted
to
deaden
impressions
of
the
outward
world
,
it
is
by
that
sweet
word
alone
--
by
Ligeia
--
that
I
bring
before
mine
eyes
in
fancy
the
image
of
her
who
is
no
more
.
And
now
,
while
I
write
,
a
recollection
flashes
upon
me
that
I
have
never
known
the
paternal
name
of
her
who
was
my
friend
and
my
betrothed
,
and
who
became
the
partner
of
my
studies
,
and
finally
the
wife
of
my
bosom
.
Was
it
a
playful
charge
on
the
part
of
my
Ligeia
?
or
was
it
a
test
of
my
strength
of
affection
,
that
I
should
institute
no
inquiries
upon
this
point
?
or
was
it
rather
a
caprice
of
my
own
--
a
wildly
romantic
offering
on
the
shrine
of
the
most
passionate
devotion
?
I
but
indistinctly
recall
the
fact
itself
--
what
wonder
that
I
have
utterly
forgotten
the
circumstances
which
originated
or
attended
it
?
And
,
indeed
,
if
ever
she
,
the
wan
and
the
misty-winged
Ashtophet
of
idolatrous
Egypt
,
presided
,
as
they
tell
,
over
marriages
ill-omened
,
then
most
surely
she
presided
over
mine
.
There
is
one
dear
topic
,
however
,
on
which
my
memory
falls
me
not
.
It
is
the
person
of
Ligeia
.
In
stature
she
was
tall
,
somewhat
slender
,
and
,
in
her
latter
days
,
even
emaciated
.
I
would
in
vain
attempt
to
portray
the
majesty
,
the
quiet
ease
,
of
her
demeanor
,
or
the
incomprehensible
lightness
and
elasticity
of
her
footfall
.
She
came
and
departed
as
a
shadow
.
I
was
never
made
aware
of
her
entrance
into
my
closed
study
save
by
the
dear
music
of
her
low
sweet
voice
,
as
she
placed
her
marble
hand
upon
my
shoulder
.
In
beauty
of
face
no
maiden
ever
equalled
her
.
It
was
the
radiance
of
an
opium-dream
--
an
airy
and
spirit-lifting
vision
more
wildly
divine
than
the
phantasies
which
hovered
vision
about
the
slumbering
souls
of
the
daughters
of
Delos
.
Yet
her
features
were
not
of
that
regular
mould
which
we
have
been
falsely
taught
to
worship
in
the
classical
labors
of
the
heathen
.
"
There
is
no
exquisite
beauty
,
"
says
Bacon
,
Lord
Verulam
,
speaking
truly
of
all
the
forms
and
genera
of
beauty
,
without
some
strangeness
in
the
proportion
.
"
Yet
,
although
I
saw
that
the
features
of
Ligeia
were
not
of
a
classic
regularity
--
although
I
perceived
that
her
loveliness
was
indeed
"
exquisite
,
"
and
felt
that
there
was
much
of
"
strangeness
"
pervading
it
,
yet
I
have
tried
in
vain
to
detect
the
irregularity
and
to
trace
home
my
own
perception
of
"
the
strange
.
"
I
examined
the
contour
of
the
lofty
and
pale
forehead
--
it
was
faultless
--
how
cold
indeed
that
word
when
applied
to
a
majesty
so
divine
!
--
the
skin
rivalling
the
purest
ivory
,
the
commanding
extent
and
repose
,
the
gentle
prominence
of
the
regions
above
the
temples
;
and
then
the
raven-black
,
the
glossy
,
the
luxuriant
and
naturally-curling
tresses
,
setting
forth
the
full
force
of
the
Homeric
epithet
,
"
hyacinthine
!
"
I
looked
at
the
delicate
outlines
of
the
nose
--
and
nowhere
but
in
the
graceful
medallions
of
the
Hebrews
had
I
beheld
a
similar
perfection
.
There
were
the
same
luxurious
smoothness
of
surface
,
the
same
scarcely
perceptible
tendency
to
the
aquiline
,
the
same
harmoniously
curved
nostrils
speaking
the
free
spirit
.
I
regarded
the
sweet
mouth
.
Here
was
indeed
the
triumph
of
all
things
heavenly
--
the
magnificent
turn
of
the
short
upper
lip
--
the
soft
,
voluptuous
slumber
of
the
under
--
the
dimples
which
sported
,
and
the
color
which
spoke
--
the
teeth
glancing
back
,
with
a
brilliancy
almost
startling
,
every
ray
of
the
holy
light
which
fell
upon
them
in
her
serene
and
placid
,
yet
most
exultingly
radiant
of
all
smiles
.
I
scrutinized
the
formation
of
the
chin
--
and
here
,
too
,
I
found
the
gentleness
of
breadth
,
the
softness
and
the
majesty
,
the
fullness
and
the
spirituality
,
of
the
Greek
--
the
contour
which
the
god
Apollo
revealed
but
in
a
dream
,
to
Cleomenes
,
the
son
of
the
Athenian
.
And
then
I
peered
into
the
large
eves
of
Ligeia
.
For
eyes
we
have
no
models
in
the
remotely
antique
.
It
might
have
been
,
too
,
that
in
these
eves
of
my
beloved
lay
the
secret
to
which
Lord
Verulam
alludes
.
They
were
,
I
must
believe
,
far
larger
than
the
ordinary
eyes
of
our
own
race
.
They
were
even
fuller
than
the
fullest
of
the
gazelle
eyes
of
the
tribe
of
the
valley
of
Nourjahad
.
Yet
it
was
only
at
intervals
--
in
moments
of
intense
excitement
--
that
this
peculiarity
became
more
than
slightly
noticeable
in
Ligeia
.
And
at
such
moments
was
her
beauty
--
in
my
heated
fancy
thus
it
appeared
perhaps
--
the
beauty
of
beings
either
above
or
apart
from
the
earth
--
the
beauty
of
the
fabulous
Houri
of
the
Turk
.
The
hue
of
the
orbs
was
the
most
brilliant
of
black
,
and
,
far
over
them
,
hung
jetty
lashes
of
great
length
.
The
brows
,
slightly
irregular
in
outline
,
had
the
same
tint
.
The
"
strangeness
,
"
however
,
which
I
found
in
the
eyes
,
was
of
a
nature
distinct
from
the
formation
,
or
the
color
,
or
the
brilliancy
of
the
features
,
and
must
,
after
all
,
be
referred
to
the
expression
.
Ah
,
word
of
no
meaning
!
behind
whose
vast
latitude
of
mere
sound
we
intrench
our
ignorance
of
so
much
of
the
spiritual
.
The
expression
of
the
eyes
of
Ligeia
!
How
for
long
hours
have
I
pondered
upon
it
!
How
have
I
,
through
the
whole
of
a
midsummer
night
,
struggled
to
fathom
it
!
What
was
it
--
that
something
more
profound
than
the
well
of
Democritus
--
which
lay
far
within
the
pupils
of
my
beloved
?
What
was
it
?
I
was
possessed
with
a
passion
to
discover
.
Those
eyes
!
those
large
,
those
shining
,
those
divine
orbs
!
they
became
to
me
twin
stars
of
Leda
,
and
I
to
them
devoutest
of
astrologers
.
There
is
no
point
,
among
the
many
incomprehensible
anomalies
of
the
science
of
mind
,
more
thrillingly
exciting
than
the
fact
--
never
,
I
believe
,
noticed
in
the
schools
--
that
,
in
our
endeavors
to
recall
to
memory
something
long
forgotten
,
we
often
find
ourselves
upon
the
very
verge
of
remembrance
,
without
being
able
,
in
the
end
,
to
remember
.
And
thus
how
frequently
,
in
my
intense
scrutiny
of
Ligeia
's
eyes
,
have
I
felt
approaching
the
full
knowledge
of
their
expression
--
felt
it
approaching
--
yet
not
quite
be
mine
--
and
so
at
length
entirely
depart
!
And
(
strange
,
oh
strangest
mystery
of
all
!
)
I
found
,
in
the
commonest
objects
of
the
universe
,
a
circle
of
analogies
to
theat
expression
.
I
mean
to
say
that
,
subsequently
to
the
period
when
Ligeia
's
beauty
passed
into
my
spirit
,
there
dwelling
as
in
a
shrine
,
I
derived
,
from
many
existences
in
the
material
world
,
a
sentiment
such
as
I
felt
always
aroused
within
me
by
her
large
and
luminous
orbs
.
Yet
not
the
more
could
I
define
that
sentiment
,
or
analyze
,
or
even
steadily
view
it
.
I
recognized
it
,
let
me
repeat
,
sometimes
in
the
survey
of
a
rapidly-growing
vine
--
in
the
contemplation
of
a
moth
,
a
butterfly
,
a
chrysalis
,
a
stream
of
running
water
.
I
have
felt
it
in
the
ocean
;
in
the
falling
of
a
meteor
.
I
have
felt
it
in
the
glances
of
unusually
aged
people
.
And
there
are
one
or
two
stars
in
heaven
--
(
one
especially
,
a
star
of
the
sixth
magnitude
,
double
and
changeable
,
to
be
found
near
the
large
star
in
Lyra
)
in
a
telescopic
scrutiny
of
which
I
have
been
made
aware
of
the
feeling
.
I
have
been
filled
with
it
by
certain
sounds
from
stringed
instruments
,
and
not
unfrequently
by
passages
from
books
.
Among
innumerable
other
instances
,
I
well
remember
something
in
a
volume
of
Joseph
Glanvill
,
which
(
perhaps
merely
from
its
quaintness
--
who
shall
say
?
)
never
failed
to
inspire
me
with
the
sentiment
;
--
"
And
the
will
therein
lieth
,
which
dieth
not
.
Who
knoweth
the
mysteries
of
the
will
,
with
its
vigor
?
For
God
is
but
a
great
will
pervading
all
things
by
nature
of
its
intentness
.
Man
doth
not
yield
him
to
the
angels
,
nor
unto
death
utterly
,
save
only
through
the
weakness
of
his
feeble
will
.
"
Length
of
years
,
and
subsequent
reflection
,
have
enabled
me
to
trace
,
indeed
,
some
remote
connection
between
this
passage
in
the
English
moralist
and
a
portion
of
the
character
of
Ligeia
.
An
intensity
in
thought
,
action
,
or
speech
,
was
possibly
,
in
her
,
a
result
,
or
at
least
an
index
,
of
that
gigantic
volition
which
,
during
our
long
intercourse
,
failed
to
give
other
and
more
immediate
evidence
of
its
existence
.
Of
all
the
women
whom
I
have
ever
known
,
she
,
the
outwardly
calm
,
the
ever-placid
Ligeia
,
was
the
most
violently
a
prey
to
the
tumultuous
vultures
of
stern
passion
.
And
of
such
passion
I
could
form
no
estimate
,
save
by
the
miraculous
expansion
of
those
eyes
which
at
once
so
delighted
and
appalled
me
--
by
the
almost
magical
melody
,
modulation
,
distinctness
and
placidity
of
her
very
low
voice
--
and
by
the
fierce
energy
(
rendered
doubly
effective
by
contrast
with
her
manner
of
utterance
)
of
the
wild
words
which
she
habitually
uttered
.
I
have
spoken
of
the
learning
of
Ligeia
:
it
was
immense
--
such
as
I
have
never
known
in
woman
.
In
the
classical
tongues
was
she
deeply
proficient
,
and
as
far
as
my
own
acquaintance
extended
in
regard
to
the
modern
dialects
of
Europe
,
I
have
never
known
her
at
fault
.
Indeed
upon
any
theme
of
the
most
admired
,
because
simply
the
most
abstruse
of
the
boasted
erudition
of
the
academy
,
have
I
ever
found
Ligeia
at
fault
?
How
singularly
--
how
thrillingly
,
this
one
point
in
the
nature
of
my
wife
has
forced
itself
,
at
this
late
period
only
,
upon
my
attention
!
I
said
her
knowledge
was
such
as
I
have
never
known
in
woman
--
but
where
breathes
the
man
who
has
traversed
,
and
successfully
,
all
the
wide
areas
of
moral
,
physical
,
and
mathematical
science
?
I
saw
not
then
what
I
now
clearly
perceive
,
that
the
acquisitions
of
Ligeia
were
gigantic
,
were
astounding
;
yet
I
was
sufficiently
aware
of
her
infinite
supremacy
to
resign
myself
,
with
a
child-like
confidence
,
to
her
guidance
through
the
chaotic
world
of
metaphysical
investigation
at
which
I
was
most
busily
occupied
during
the
earlier
years
of
our
marriage
.
With
how
vast
a
triumph
--
with
how
vivid
a
delight
--
with
how
much
of
all
that
is
ethereal
in
hope
--
did
I
feel
,
as
she
bent
over
me
in
studies
but
little
sought
--
but
less
known
--
that
delicious
vista
by
slow
degrees
expanding
before
me
,
down
whose
long
,
gorgeous
,
and
all
untrodden
path
,
I
might
at
length
pass
onward
to
the
goal
of
a
wisdom
too
divinely
precious
not
to
be
forbidden
!
