Edgar:
And then I had a vision
Roderick Usher:
Ah Edgar
Ah Edgar, my dear friend Edgar
Edgar:
It's been a long time, Roderick
I've ridden many miles
It's been a dull and soundless day for autumn
The leaves have lost their autumn glow
and the clouds seem oppressive with their drifting finery
Roderick Usher:
I know, my friend
Though I own so much of this land I find
the country insufferable
I deal only in half pleasures
Edgar:
Speaking of half pleasures
would you care for a tincture of opium?
Roderick Usher:
Nothing would please me more than to smoke
with an old friend
I've experienced the hideous dropping of the veil
the bitter lapse into common life
unredeemed dreariness of thought
I have an iciness, a sickening of the heart
Edgar:
It's true you don't look well, Roderick
but I am your friend
no matter the occasion or position of the stars
I'm glad you wrote me
but I must admit to concern
Roderick Usher:
I cannot contain my heart
Edgar, I look to you for solace
for relief from myself
What I have is constitutional
a family evil, a nervous affection that must surely pass
But I do have this morbid acuteness of senses
I can eat only the most insipid food
clothes only of the lightest texture
The odor of flowers I find oppressive
My eyes cannot bear even the faintest light
Madeline Usher:
[moaning]
Roderick Usher:
Did you hear that?
Edgar:
I hear
I am listening, go on
Roderick Usher:
I shall perish
I will perish in this deplorable folly
I dread the future
Not the events, the results
The most trivial event
causes the greatest agitation of the soul
I do not fear danger except in its absolute effect terror
I find I must inevitably abandon life and reason together
in my struggles with the demon fear
Perhaps you'll think me superstitious
but the physique of this place
it hovers about me like a great body
some diseased outer shell
some decaying finite skin encasing my morale
Edgar:
You mentioned your sister was ill
Roderick Usher:
My beloved sister, my sole companion
has had a long continuing illness
whose inevitable conclusion seems forsworn
This will leave me the last of the ancient race of Ushers
Madeline Usher:
[moaning]
Edgar:
She looks so much like you
Roderick Usher:
I love her in a nameless way
more than I love myself
Her demise will leave me hopelessly
confined to memories and realities of a future
so barren as to be stultifying
Madeline Usher:
[moaning]
Edgar:
Oh, what of physicians?
Roderick Usher:
Ah, they are baffled
Until today she refused bed rest
wanting to be present in your honor
but finally she succumbed to the prostrating power of the destroyer
You will probably see her no more
Edgar:
Sound and music take us to the twin curves of experience
Like brother and sister intertwined
they relieve themselves of bodily contact
and dance in a pagan revelry
Roderick Usher:
I have soiled myself with my designs
I am ashamed of my brain
The enemy is me
and the executioner terror
Music is a reflection of our inner self
unfiltered agony touches the wayward string
The wayward brain confuses itself
with the self-perceived future
and turns inward with loathing and terror
Either by design or thought
we are doomed to know our own end
I've written a lyric
Edgar:
May I hear it?
Roderick Usher:
It is called "The Haunted Palace"
In the greenest of our valleys,
By good angels tenanted,
Once a fair and stately palace --
Snow-white palace -- reared its head.
Banners yellow, glorious, golden,
On its roof did float and flow;
(This -- all this -- was in the olden time long ago)
And every gentle air that dallied,
Along the rampart plumed and pallid,
A winged odor went away.
All wanderers in that happy valley
Through two luminous windows saw
Spirits moving musically
The sovereign of the realm serene,
A troop of echoes whose sweet duty
Was but to sing
In voices of surpassing beauty,
The wit and wisdom of their king.
But evil things in robes of sorrow,
Assailed the monarch's high estate!
And round about his home the glory,
Is but a dim-remembered story.
Vast forms that move fantastically
To a discordant melody;
While, like a ghastly river,
A hideous throng rush out forever,
And laugh -- but smile no more.
Nevermore.
Edgar:
It's cold in here
Roderick Usher:
I tell you minerals are sentient things
The gradual yet certain condensation of an atmosphere
of their own about the waters and the walls proves this
Thus the silent yet importunate and terrible influence
which for centuries has molded my family
And now me
Madeline Usher:
[screaming]
Roderick Usher:
Excuse me
Madeline Usher:
[vomiting]
Roderick Usher:
She is gone
Out, sad light
Roderick has no life
I shall preserve her corpse for a fortnight
Edgar:
But Roderick..
Roderick Usher:
I shall place it in a vault facing the lake
I do not wish to answer to the medical men
nor place her in the exposed burial plot of my family
We shall inter her at the proper date
when I am more fully of a right mind
Her malady was unusual
Please do not question me on this
Edgar:
I cannot question you
Roderick Usher:
Then help me now
Madeline Usher:
[moaning]
Edgar:
One would think you twins
Roderick Usher:
We are
We have always been sympathetic to each other
Have you seen this?
It is her
Edgar:
It is a whirlwind
You should not
You must not behold this
Roderick, these appearances which bewilder you are mere electrical phenomena not uncommon
Or perhaps they have their rank origins in the marshy gases of the lake
Please, let's close this casement and I will read and you will listen
Aand together we will pass this terrible night together
What's that?
What is that?
Don't you hear that?
Roderick Usher:
Not hear it?
Yes, I hear it and have heard it many minutes have I heard it?
Oh, pity me miserable wretch
I dared not
Oh no
I dared not speak
We have put her living in the tomb
I have heard feeble movements in the coffin
I thought I heard
I dared not speak
Oh God
I have heard footsteps
Do you not hear them?
Attention
Do I not distinguish that heavy and horrible beating of her heart?
Madman
Madman
I tell you she now stands without the door
Madeline Usher :
[moaning and screaming]
Lou Reed (Lewis Allan Reed; March 2, 1942 – October 27, 2013) was an American singer-songwriter, guitarist, and poet. Considered a pioneer of experimental rock and punk music, Reed achieved international fame as the frontman of the Velvet Underground in the 1960s. After the band's dissolution, he embarked on a highly successful solo career, exploring controversial themes such as heroin, sexuality, and social marginalization. Among his most important albums are "Transformer" (1972), "Berlin" (1973) and "Street Hassle" (1978). Reed was a provocative and controversial artist, but also a refined poet and a musician of great talent. Some of his most representative songs are: 'Walk on the Wild Side', 'Heroin', 'Perfect Day'.
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