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- Говард Лавкрафт
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- Дагон
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- Стр. 3/3
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Of
any
land
upheaval
in
the
Pacific
,
my
rescuers
knew
nothing
;
nor
did
I
deem
it
necessary
to
insist
upon
a
thing
which
I
knew
they
could
not
believe
.
Once
I
sought
out
a
celebrated
ethnologist
,
and
amused
him
with
peculiar
questions
regarding
the
ancient
Philistine
legend
of
Dagon
,
the
Fish
-
God
;
but
soon
perceiving
that
he
was
hopelessly
conventional
,
I
did
not
press
my
inquiries
.
It
is
at
night
,
especially
when
the
moon
is
gibbous
and
waning
,
that
I
see
the
thing
.
I
tried
morphine
;
but
the
drug
has
given
only
transient
surcease
,
and
has
drawn
me
into
its
clutches
as
a
hopeless
slave
.
So
now
I
am
to
end
it
all
,
having
written
a
full
account
for
the
information
or
the
contemptuous
amusement
of
my
fellow
-
men
.
Often
I
ask
myself
if
it
could
not
all
have
been
a
pure
phantasm
—
a
mere
freak
of
fever
as
I
lay
sun
-
stricken
and
raving
in
the
open
boat
after
my
escape
from
the
German
man
-
of
-
war
.
This
I
ask
myself
,
but
ever
does
there
come
before
me
a
hideously
vivid
vision
in
reply
.
I
cannot
think
of
the
deep
sea
without
shuddering
at
the
nameless
things
that
may
at
this
very
moment
be
crawling
and
floundering
on
its
slimy
bed
,
worshipping
their
ancient
stone
idols
and
carving
their
own
detestable
likenesses
on
submarine
obelisks
of
water
-
soaked
granite
.
I
dream
of
a
day
when
they
may
rise
above
the
billows
to
drag
down
in
their
reeking
talons
the
remnants
of
puny
,
war
-
exhausted
mankind
—
of
a
day
when
the
land
shall
sink
,
and
the
dark
ocean
floor
shall
ascend
amidst
universal
pandemonium
.
The
end
is
near
.
I
hear
a
noise
at
the
door
,
as
of
some
immense
slippery
body
lumbering
against
it
.
It
shall
not
find
me
.
God
,
that
hand
!
The
window
!
The
window
!