I was sick - sick unto death with that long agony...
They appeared to me in white -- whiter than the sheet upon which I trace these words... --Of stern contempt of human torture.
-The room becomes dark, as the narrator's fate awaits him.
He expresses his fears about the pendulum when he is on the "table."
He is sliced in the chest by the blade.
There was a tinging sensation pervading my frame.
;—but where and in what state was I? The condemned to death, I knew, perished usually at the autosda-fe, and one of these had been held on the very night of the day of my trial.
He is questioning himself and what was happening. He is stuck in his thoughts.
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