“La fiesta llegaba a su auge cuando en el reloj comenzaron a sonar las campanadas de la medianoche. Y entonces, como antes, la música cesó, y cesaron también las evoluciones de los bailarines. Y también como antes se produjo una angustiosa suspensión de todas las cosas, pero en aquellos momentos tenían que sonar doce campanadas. Y quizá por disponer de más tiempo, de más segundos de meditación, la muchedumbre guardó un silencio más profundo que nunca.”
“And thus too, it happened, perhaps, that before the last echoes of the last chime had utterly sunk into silence, there were many individuals in the crowd who had found leisure to become aware of the presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no single individual before. And the rumor of this new presence having spread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole company a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and surprise – then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.
In an assembly of phantasms such I have painted, it may well be supposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.(…) The figure was tall and gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the grave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to resemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest scrutiny must have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers around. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the Red Death.(…)
When the eyes of Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image (which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain its role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be convulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror or distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.
‘Who dares’ – he demanded hoarsely of the courtiers who stood near him – ‘who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and unmask him – that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the battlements!’
(…)
There were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that, unimpeded, he passed within a yard of the prince’s person; and, while the vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of the rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the same solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the first, through the blue chamber to the purple – through the purple to the green – through the green to the orange – through this again to the white – and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been made to arrest him. It was then , however, that the Prince Prospero, maddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice, rushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on account of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a drawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three or four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained the extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted his pursuer. There was a sharp cry – and the dagger dropped gleaming upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterward, fell prostrate in death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of despair, a throng of the revelers at once threw themselves into the black apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect and motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in unutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask, which they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any tangible form.
And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night. and one by one dropped the revelers in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing posture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired. And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all”
Las transcripciones literarias proceden del libro The complete stories, publicado en 1992 en su colección Everyman's Library por David Campbell Publishers Ltd, de Londres, y del libro Historias extraordinarias, según traducción de 1968 de Jaime Piñeiro, en un ejemplar de la 7ª edición, de agosto de 1978, volumen publicado como nº 78 de su colección Libro Amigo por una entonces bien real Editorial Bruguera.
Las muestras gráficas, como ya se ha dicho, son de Miguel Calatayud, publicadas en el número Extra de Navidad de la revista Trinca, el 15 de diciembre de 1972.
Y todo esto, porque hoy, día 19 de enero de 2009, se cumplen 200 años del nacimiento, en Boston, de Edgar Allan Poe.
Y sobre cualquier otra interpretación, sin desmerecer su posible interés, ¿qué podemos decir de su probable coincidencia?
“And thus too, it happened, perhaps, that before the last echoes of the last chime had utterly sunk into silence, there were many individuals in the crowd who had found leisure to become aware of the presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no single individual before. And the rumor of this new presence having spread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole company a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and surprise – then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.In an assembly of phantasms such I have painted, it may well be supposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.(…) The figure was tall and gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the grave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to resemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest scrutiny must have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers around. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the Red Death.(…)
When the eyes of Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image (which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain its role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be convulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror or distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.
‘Who dares’ – he demanded hoarsely of the courtiers who stood near him – ‘who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and unmask him – that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the battlements!’
(…)
There were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that, unimpeded, he passed within a yard of the prince’s person; and, while the vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of the rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the same solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the first, through the blue chamber to the purple – through the purple to the green – through the green to the orange – through this again to the white – and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been made to arrest him. It was then , however, that the Prince Prospero, maddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice, rushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on account of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a drawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three or four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained the extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted his pursuer. There was a sharp cry – and the dagger dropped gleaming upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterward, fell prostrate in death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of despair, a throng of the revelers at once threw themselves into the black apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect and motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in unutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask, which they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any tangible form.
And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night. and one by one dropped the revelers in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing posture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired. And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all”
Las transcripciones literarias proceden del libro The complete stories, publicado en 1992 en su colección Everyman's Library por David Campbell Publishers Ltd, de Londres, y del libro Historias extraordinarias, según traducción de 1968 de Jaime Piñeiro, en un ejemplar de la 7ª edición, de agosto de 1978, volumen publicado como nº 78 de su colección Libro Amigo por una entonces bien real Editorial Bruguera.
Las muestras gráficas, como ya se ha dicho, son de Miguel Calatayud, publicadas en el número Extra de Navidad de la revista Trinca, el 15 de diciembre de 1972.
Y todo esto, porque hoy, día 19 de enero de 2009, se cumplen 200 años del nacimiento, en Boston, de Edgar Allan Poe.
Y sobre cualquier otra interpretación, sin desmerecer su posible interés, ¿qué podemos decir de su probable coincidencia?
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