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The Tell-Tale Heart - Cloze



On Youtube with Vincent Price. (It's incomplete unfortunately.)
Activity set by: Chris Davis
"The Tell-Tale Heart" is a short story by Edgar Allan Poe first published in 1843.
It is in the Public Domain.
Voices of Don Morgan (Librivox.org) and John Robinson (Archive.org).

First, do these vocabulary activities: Verbs, Nouns and Other. For this activity, listen to the recordings if necessary: MP3 (Don Morgan), MP3 (John Robinson). Fill in all the gaps with the missing words, then press "Check" to check your answers. Use the "Hint" button to get a free letter if an answer is giving you trouble. You can also click on the "[?]" button to get a clue. Click the this button again for another letter. You can also click on "[?]" for a different hint. Note that you will lose points if you ask for hints or clues! Finally, do the Quiz.

Primero, haz la actividad de vocabulario. Escucha la grabación si es necesario. Rellena los espacios en blanco con las palabras que faltan. Haz click en "Check" para comprobar tus aciertos. Si te resulta difícil la respuesta utiliza el botón "Hint" y te revelará una letra de la casilla en la que te encuentres, puedes clickear varias veces en "Hint" y te dará cada vez una letra más de la palabra. Para obtener ayuda también puedes clickear en el botón "[?]" y te dará una pista. Perderás puntos con las pistas.


Listen:
Don:     John:
                       
   acute      amid      audacity      awe      bade      boldly      burst      ceased      chatted      cheerily      chirp      chuckled      concealment      corpse      cotton      courageously      creaked      crevice      crossing      cunningly      damned      deeds      degrees      derision      dim      dismembered      dissemble      dragged      dreadful      dreadfully      drew      dulled      enveloped      fancy      fastened      foresight      foul      gaily      gazed      grief      groan      hark      hastily      haunted      Hearken      hearkening      hearty      heightened      hellish      hideous      kinder      latch      lay      lodged      mad      mark      meantime      mockery      mournful      muffled      paced      pale      pitch      planks      premises      raved      ray      refrained      reposed      resolved      sagacity      seized      sharpened      shone      shriek      shrieked      sprang      stain      stalked      startled      stifled      suavity      tear      thumb      thus      trifles      trouble      undid      vain      vexed      Villains      vulture      waned      wary      welled      wronged   
The Tell-Tale Heart.
By Edgar Allen Poe

TRUE! — nervous — very, very nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am ? The disease had my senses — not destroyed — not them. Above all was the sense of hearing . I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? ! and observe how healthily — how calmly I can tell you the whole story.

It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never 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 — a pale blue eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so by — very gradually — I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and rid myself of the eye forever.

Now this is the point. You me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded — with what caution — with what — with what dissimulation I went to work! I was never to the old man than during the whole week before I killed him. And every night, about midnight, I turned the 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 out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how 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 upon his bed. Ha! would a madman have been so wise as this, And then, when my head was well in the room, I the lantern cautiously - oh, so cautiously — cautiously (for the hinges ) — I undid it just so much that a single thin 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 me, but his Evil Eye. And every morning, when the day broke, I went into the chamber, and spoke to him, calling him by name in a tone, and inquiring 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 twelve, I looked in upon him while he slept.

Upon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in opening the door. A watch's minute hand moves more quickly than did mine. Never before that night had I felt the extent of my own powers — of my . 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 or thoughts. I fairly at the idea; and perhaps he heard me; for he moved on the bed suddenly, as if . Now you may think that I back — but no. His room was as black as with the thick darkness, (for the shutters were close , through fear of robbers,) and so I knew that he could not see the opening of the door, and I kept pushing it on steadily, steadily.

I had my head in, and was about to open the lantern, when my slipped upon the tin fastening, and the old man up in bed, crying out — "Who's there?"

I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a muscle, and in the I did not hear him lie down. He was still sitting up in the bed listening; — just as I have done, night after night, to the death watches in the wall.

Presently I heard a slight , and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror. It was not a groan of pain or of — oh, no! — it was the low sound that arises from the bottom of the soul when overcharged with . I knew the sound well. Many a night, just at midnight, when all the world slept, it has up from my own bosom, deepening, with its echo, the terrors that distracted me. I say I knew it well. I knew what the old man felt, and pitied him, although I at heart. I knew that he had been lying awake ever since the first slight noise, when he had turned in the bed. His fears had been ever since growing upon him. He had been trying to fancy them causeless, but could not. He had been saying to himself — "It is nothing but the wind in the chimney — it is only a mouse the floor," or "It is merely a cricket which has made a single ." Yes, he had been trying to comfort himself with these suppositions: but he had found all in . All in vain; because Death, in approaching him had with his black shadow before him, and enveloped the victim. And it was the influence of the unperceived shadow that caused him to feel — although he neither saw nor heard — 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 to open a little — a very, very little in the lantern. So I opened it — you cannot imagine how stealthily, stealthily — until, at length a simple ray, like the thread of the spider, shot from out the crevice and fell full upon the vulture eye.

It was open — wide, wide open — and I grew furious as I upon it. I saw it with perfect distinctness — all a dull blue, with a veil over it that 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 spot.

And have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is but over-acuteness of the sense? — now, I say, there came to my ears a low, dull, quick sound, such as a watch makes when enveloped in . I knew that sound well, too. It was the beating of the old man's heart. It increased my fury, as the beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage.

But even yet I and kept still. I scarcely breathed. I held the lantern motionless. I tried how steadily I could maintain the ray upon the eve. Meantime the 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, I say, louder every moment! — do you me well I have told you that I am nervous: so I am. And now at the dead hour of the night, the dreadful silence of that old house, so strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable terror. Yet, for some minutes longer I refrained and stood still. But the beating grew louder, louder! I thought the heart must . And now a new anxiety me — the sound would be heard by a neighbour! The old man's hour had come! With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern and leaped into the room. He once — once only. In an instant I him to the floor, and pulled the heavy bed over him. I then smiled , to find the deed so far done. But, for many minutes, the heart beat on with a sound. This, however, did not vex me; it would not be heard through the wall. At length it . The old man was dead. I removed the bed and examined the . Yes, he was stone, stone dead. I placed my hand upon the heart and held it there many minutes. There was no pulsation. He was stone dead. His eye would me no more.

If still you think me mad, you will think so no longer when I describe the wise precautions I took for the of the body. The night , and I worked , but in silence. First of all I the corpse. I cut off the head and the arms and the legs.

I then took up three from the flooring of the chamber, and deposited all between the scantlings. I then replaced the boards so cleverly, so cunningly, that no human eye — not even his — could have detected any thing wrong. There was nothing to wash out — no of any kind — no blood-spot whatever. I had been too for that. A tub had caught all — ha! ha!

When I had made an end of these labors, it was four o'clock — still dark as midnight. As the bell sounded the hour, there came a knocking at the street door. I went down to open it with a light heart, — for what had I now to fear? There entered three men, who introduced themselves, with perfect , as officers of the police. A had been heard by a neighbour during the night; suspicion of play had been aroused; information had been at the police office, and they (the officers) had been deputed to search the .

I smiled, — for what had I to fear? I the gentlemen welcome. The shriek, I said, was my own in a dream. The old man, I mentioned, was absent in the country. I took my visitors all over the house. I bade them search — search well. I led 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, and desired them here to rest from their fatigues, while I myself, in the wild of my perfect triumph, placed my own seat upon the very spot beneath which 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 , they chatted of familiar things. But, ere long, I felt myself getting and wished them gone. My head ached, and I fancied a ringing in my ears: but still they sat and still . The ringing became more distinct: — It continued and became more distinct: I talked more freely to get rid of the feeling: but it continued and gained definiteness — until, at length, I found that the noise was not within my ears.

No doubt I now grew very ; — but I talked more fluently, and with a voice. Yet the sound increased — and what could I do? It was a low, dull, quick sound — much such a sound as a watch makes when 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 and argued about , in a high key and with violent gesticulations; but the noise steadily increased. Why would they not be gone? I the floor to and fro with heavy strides, as if excited to fury by the observations of the men — but the noise steadily increased. Oh God! what could I do? I foamed — I — I swore! I swung the chair upon which I had been sitting, and grated it upon the boards, but the noise arose over all and continually increased. It grew louder — louder — louder! And still the men pleasantly, and smiled. Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God! — no, no! They heard! — they suspected! — they knew! — they were making a of my horror! - this I thought, and this I think. But anything was better than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than this ! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die! and now — again! — ! louder! louder! louder! louder!

"!" I shrieked, " no more! I admit the deed! — up the planks! here, here! — It is the beating of his heart!"