The Tell-Tale Heart (1991) - full transcript

- [Man] Careful there Carey.

- [Carey] Sorry sir.

- [Man] We don't want
to be moving anything

until the boys have finished.

- [Carey] No, sir.

(gentle music)

- True.

Nervous.

Very, very dreadfully
nervous, I had been and am.

How then am I mad?

The disease had
sharpened my senses,



not destroyed, not dulled them.

Above all was a sense of

hearing, acute.

I heard all things in the
heaven and in the earth.

I heard many things in hell.

How, then, can you say I am mad?

Ha!

Hearken!

And observe how healthily,

how calmly,

I can tell you the whole story.

- [Man] Gently there!

You heard the sergeant.

- 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.

He had the eye of a vulture,

a pale, blue eye
with a film over it.

Whenever it fell upon me,

my blood ran cold.

And, so, by degrees,

very gradually,

I made up my mind to take
the life of the old man.

And, thus,

rid myself of the eye forever.

Now this is the point,

You fancy me mad.

(laughs softly)

Madmen know nothing.

But you should have seen me.

You should have seen
how wisely I proceeded

with what caution,
with what foresight,

with what dissimulation

I went to work.

I was never kinder
to the old man

than during the whole
week before I killed him.

And every night, about midnight,

I turned the latch of his door

and opened it, oh, so gently.

And then, when I had made
an opening sufficient

for my head, I put in a
dark lantern all closed,

closed that no light shown out

and then I thrust in my head.

Oh you would have laughed

to see how cunningly
I thrust it in.

I moved it slowly,
very, very slowly

so that I might not
disturb the old man's

sleep.

It took me an hour to
place my whole head

within the opening so
far that I could see him

as he lay upon his bed.

(laughs softly)

Would a madman have
been so wise as this?

And then, when my head
was well within the room,

I undid the lantern cautiously.

Oh so cautiously,

cautiously

for the hinges creaked.

I undid it just so much
that a single thin ray fell

upon the vulture eye.

And this I did for
seven long nights.

Every night, just at midnight.

But,

I found the eye always closed.

And so,

it was impossible
to do the work.

For it was not the
old man who vexed me,

but his evil eye.

And every morning
when the day broke,

I went boldly into the
chamber and spoke couragiously

to him, calling him by
name in a hearty tone.

And enquring how he
has passed the night.

So you see, he would have
been a very profound old man,

indeed to suspect
that every night,

just at 12, I looked in upon him

while he slept.

Upon the eighth
night, I was more

that usually cautious
in opening the door.

A watch's minute hand moves
more quickly than did mine.

Never before that night
did I feel the extent

of my own powers, of my

sagacity.

I could scarcely contain
my feelings of triumph.

To think, that there
I was opening the door

little by little,

and he, not even to dream

of my secret deeds and thoughts.

(laughs softly)

I fairly chuckled at the idea.

And perhaps he heard me.

For he moved on the bed
suddenly, as if startled.

Now, you may think
that I drew back,

but no.

His room was black as
pitch with thick darkness

and so I knew that
he could not see

the door opening.

And so, I kept

pushing it on,

steadily,

steadily.

I had my head in and was
about to open the lantern

when my thumb slipped
upon the tin fastening

and the old man
sprang up in bed,

crying out, "Who's there?"

- Who's there?

- I kept quite still
and said nothing.

For a whole hour, I
did not move a muscle.

And in the meantime, I
did not hear him lie down.

He was still sitting
up in bed listening.

Just as I have done,

night after night,

hearkening to the death
watchers in the wall.

Presently, I heard
a slight groan

and I knew that it was a
groan of mortal terror.

It was not the groan
of pain or of grief.

Oh no, no.

It was a low,

stifled sound that
arises from the bottom

of the soul when
overcharged with awe.

I,

I knew the sound well.

Many a night,

just before midnight
when all the world slept,

it has welled up
in my own bosom,

deepening with
its dreadful echo,

the terrors that distracted me.

- Inspector.

- I say I knew it well.

I knew what the old man
felt and I pitied him.

I knew that he had
been lying there awake

ever since that
first slight noise

when he turned in the bed.

His fears had been growing
in upon him ever since.

He'd been trying to fancy
them causeless but could not.

He had been saying
to himself, "Oh,

it's only the wind
in the chimney.

It's but a mouse,

crossing the floor.

Or,

it is a cricket,

which has made a single chirp."

Oh yes,

he had been trying
to comfort himself

with these suppositions.

But he had found all in vain.

All in vain,

because death,

in approaching him,

had stalked with his
black shadow before him

and enveloped the victim.

And it was the
mournful influence

of this unperceived
shadow that caused him

to feel, although he
neither saw nor heard,

but to feel

the presence of my head

within the room.

When I had waited a long
time, very patiently,

without hearing him
lie down, I resolved

to open a little,
a very, very little

crevice in the lantern,

so I opened it.

You cannot imagine how
stealthily, stealthily

until at length,
a simple dim ray,

like the thread of a spider,

shot out from the
crevice and fell

upon the vulture eye.

It was open, wide open,
and I grew furious

as I gazed upon it.

I saw it with perfect
distinctness all a dull blue

with a hideous veil over it.

It chilled the very
marrow in my bones

but I could see nothing else

of the old man's face or person.

For I had directed the
ray, as if by instinct,

precisely upon the damn spot.

And have I not told you
that what you mistake

for madness is but an
over-acuteness of the sense.

And now I say,

there

came to my ears, a

a low, dull, quick sound,
such as a watch makes

when enveloped in cotton.

I knew that sound well too.

It was the beating of
the old man's heart.

(beating heart)

It increased my
fury as the beating

of a drum stimulates the
soldier into courage.

But even yet, I
refrained, stood still.

Scarcely breathed.

I held the lantern motionless.

I tried as steadily as
I could maintain the ray

upon the eye.

Meantime, the hellish tattoo
of the heart increased.

It grew quicker and
quicker and louder

and louder every instant.

The old man's terror
must have been extreme.

It grew louder, louder and
louder and louder every moment!

Do you mark me well that I
have told you I am nervous?

So I am.

And now,

at this dead hour of the night,

amid the

dreadful silence
of that old house,

so strange a noise as this

excited me to
uncontrollable terror.

But even yet,

I refrained for many
moments and stood still.

And yet, the beating of
the heart grew louder

and louder and louder yet!

I thought it must
burst, and then

a new anxiety seized me.

The sound would be
heard by a neighbor.

The old man's hour had come.

(screams)

With a loud yell, I

threw open the lantern,

I leapt into the room.

He shrieked once,

once

only.

In an instant I

dragged him to the floor,

I pulled the heavy
bed down upon him.

I smiled, I smiled gaily,

having found the
deed so far done.

But for many moments,
the heart, it beat on

with a muffled sound.

This, however, did
not vex me for I knew

that it could not be heard
through the wall and,

at length,

it ceased.

The old man was dead.

I removed the bed, I
examined the corpse.

Yes,

he was stone, stone

dead.

I placed my had upon the heart,

held it there many moments.

No pulsation.

He was stone dead.

His eye would
trouble me no more.

Now, if you still think me mad,

you will think so no
longer when I describe

to you the wise
precautions that I took

for the concealment of the body.

The night waned,

but I worked hastily,

and in silence.

First of all, I
dismembered the corpse.

I cut off the head and
the arms and the legs,

and I took up three planks

from the flooring
of the chamber.

And deposited all
between the scantlings.

Then I, I replaced all
the boards so cleverly,

so cunningly, that no
human eye, not even his

could have detected
anything wrong.

There was nothing
to wash out, no,

no stain of any kind,
no blood spot whatever.

I had been too wary for that.

(laughs softly)

A tub had caught it all.

(laughs softly)

When I had made an
end to these labors,

it was 4 o'clock.

Still dark as midnight.

As the bell sounded the
hour, there came a knocking,

down at the street door.

I,

I went down,

to open it,

with a light heart.

For what had I now to fear?

(hums softly)

(loud knocking)

There entered three men,

who introduced themselves
with perfect suavity,

as officers of the police.

A shriek had been heard by
a neighbor during the night.

Suspicion of foul
play had been aroused.

Information had been
lodged at the police office

and they, the officers,
had been deputed

to search the premises.

I smiled, for what
had I now to fear?

I bade the gentleman welcome.

"The shriek," I said,
"was my own in a dream.

The old man was absent,

in the country."

I took my visitors
all over the house.

I bade them search,

search well.

I lead them, at
length, to his chamber.

I showed them his treasures,

secure, undisturbed.

In the enthusiasm
of my confidence,

I brought chairs into the room.

I desired them to sit here,

and rest from their fatigues.

While I, myself, in
the wild audacity

of my perfect triumph,
placed my own seat

upon the very spot

beneath which reposed
the corpse of the victim.

The officers were satisfied.

My manner had convinced them.

I was singularly at ease.

They sat and while
I answered cheerily,

they chatted of familiar things.

But ere long, I fancied
myself getting pale

and I wished them gone.

My head, it ached and I
fancied a ringing in my ears.

Still, they sat, still chatted.

The ringing became
more distinct.

It continued and,

it became more distinct.

I talked more freely to
get rid of the feeling

but it continued and
gained definiteness.

Until, at length, I,

I found that the noise
was not within my ears.

No doubt I now grew very pale.

I, I talked more fluently
with a heightened voice.

The, the sound increased.

What could I do?

It was a low, dull,
and quick sound,

such the sound as a watch
makes when enveloped in cotton.

I gasped for breath and yet
the officers heard it not.

I talked more quickly,
more vehemently

but the noise
steadily increased.

I arose, I argued about
trifles in a high key

and with violent gesticulations

but the noise
steadily increased!

Why would they not be gone?

I paced the floor to and fro

with heavy strides
as if excited to fury

by the observations
of these men.

Yet the noise
steadily increased!

Oh God, what could I do?

I foamed, I raved, I swore!

I swung the chair upon
which I had been sitting

and grated it upon the boards

but still the noise
arose over all

and continually increased!

It grew louder, louder, louder!

And still the men chatted
pleasantly and smiled.

Was it possible
that they heard not?

All mighty God, no.

No, they heard.

They knew, they suspected.

They were making a
mockery of my horror.

This I thought, this I think.

But anything was
better than this agony.

Anything was more tolerable
that this derision.

Any, I could bear those
hypocritical smiles no longer.

I felt I must scream or
die and now again, hark!

Louder, louder, louder, louder!

"Villains!" I shrieked,
"Dissemble no more!

I admit the deed!

Here! Tear up the planks!

Here, here!

It is the beating of
his hideous heart!

(gentle music)