True! – nervous – very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and I am;
but will you say that I am mad?
The disease had sharpened my senses – not destroyed – not dulled them.
Above all was the sense of hearing acute.
How then, am I mad?
It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain;
but, once conceived, it haunted me day and night.
Object there was none
Passion there was none.
I loved the old man.
He had never wronged me.
He had never given me insult
For his gold I had no desire.
I think it was his eye!
Yes, it was this!
One of his eyes resembled that of a vulture – a pale blue eye, with a film over it.
Whenever it fall upon me, my blood ran cold; and so… very gradually… I made up my mind to … rid myself of the eye forever.
You fancy me mad.
But you should have seen me… how wisely I proceeded.
Every night I turned the latch of his door and opened it…
and then I thrust in my head… cunningly I thrust it in!
I moved it slowly – very, very slowly,
so that I might not disturb the old man’s sleep…
would a madman have been so wise as this?
And then I undid the lantern cautiously…
just so much that a single thin ray fell upon the vulture eye.
And this I did for seven long nights…
but I found the eye always closed…
his Evil Eye.