But may God shield and deliver me from the fangs of the Arch-Enemy !

Of my own thoughts it is stupidity to speak. Swooning, I uneven/walked unsteadily to the opposite wall. For one instant the party upon the stairs remained totally still, through extremity of terror and of amazement. In the next, twelve heavy/brave/strong arms were working hard at the wall. It fell bodily. The dead body, already greatly (rotted/became ruined or worse) and clotted with severely injure, stood erect before the eyes of the people who were watching. Upon its head, with red extended mouth and single/alone eye of fire, sat the extremely ugly beast whose craft had flirted with me into murder, and whose informing voice had gave/given me to the hangman. I had walled the monster up within the grave!

Upon the fourth day of the murder, a party of the police came, very unexpectedly, into the house, and went ahead/moved forward again to make difficult/strict/high quality (act of asking questions and trying to find the truth about something) of the buildings/land. Secure, however, in the mysteriousness of my place of hiding, I felt no embarrassment whatever. The officers asked/invited me go with them in their search. They left no nook or corner unexplored. Eventually, for the third or fourth time, they moved downward/originated into the room below the ground. I shook (in fear) not in a muscle. My heart beat (in a relaxed, controlled way) as that of one who sleeps in innocence. I walked the room below the ground from end to end. I folded my arms upon my chest, and roamed easily back and forth. The police were completely made happy (by meeting a need or reaching a goal) and prepared to leave/move away from. The happiness at my heart was too strong to be limited/held down. I burned to say if but one word, by way of victory, and to make/give doubly sure their promise of my guiltlessness.

One day she went with me, upon some household errand, into the room below the ground of the old building which our poorness forced us to live in. The cat followed me down the steep stairs, and, nearly throwing me rushed, irritated (a lot) me to madness. Uplifting an axe, and forgetting, in my anger, the childish fear (of a terrible future) which had up until now stayed my hand, I aimed a blow at the animal which, of course, would have proved instantly deadly had it moved downward/originated as I wished. But this blow was arrested by the hand of my wife. Pushed/encouraged, by the interference, into an extreme anger more than devil-like, I withdrew my arm from her grab/understand and buried the axe in her brain. She fell dead upon the spot, without a (deep, long sound of suffering).

One day she went with me, upon some household errand, into the room below the ground of the old building which our poorness forced us to live in.

I body-shake (from being upset) to name -- and for this, above all, I hated, and strongly feared and disliked, and would have rid myself of the monster had I dared

GALLOWS

At such times, although I (wished very much) to destroy it with a blow, I was still held back from so doing, partly by a memory of my former crime, but mostly -- let me confess it at once -- by complete and total fear (of a terrible future) of the beast.

like Pluto, it also had been kept away from one of its eyes.

For my own part, I soon found a dislike to it arising within me.

Upon my touching him, he immediately rose up, purred loudly, rubbed against my hand, and appeared delighted with my attention. This, then, was the very creature of which I was in search. I at once offered to buy it of the (manager of an apartment building); but this person made no claim to it -- knew nothing of it -- had never seen it before.

One night as I sat, half stupified, in a den of more than fame (for something bad), my attention was suddenly drawn to some black object, resting upon the head of one of the huge hogsheads of Gin, or of Rum, which make upd the chief furniture of the apartment. I had been looking steadily at the top of this hogshead for some minutes, and what now caused me surprise was the fact that I had not sooner perceived the object after that. I approached it, and touched it with my hand. It was a black cat -- a very large one -- fully as large as Pluto, and closely looking like him in every respect but one. Pluto had not a white hair upon any part of/amount of his body; but this cat had a large, although blurry/unknown splotch of white, covering nearly the whole area of the breast.

On the night of the day on which this cruel deed was done, I was awakened/stimulated from sleep by the cry of fire.

axe,

But at length reflection came to my aid. The cat, I remembered, had been hung in a garden next to the house.

When I first looked/saw this ghost/sudden appearance -- for I could hardly regard it as less -- my wonder and my terror were extreme

There was a rope about the animal's neck.

Although I this way easily accounted to my reason, if not completely to my sense of right and wrong, for the very surprising fact just described/explained, it did not the less do not make a deep impression upon my fancy

FOR the most wild, yet most plain/ugly story which I am about to pen, I neither expect nor ask for/encourage belief. Mad in fact would I be to expect it, in a case where my very senses reject their own (event(s) or object(s) that prove something). Yet, mad am I not -- and very surely do I not dream.

The Black Cat

I burn, I body-shake (from being upset), while I pen the (deserving curses) evil event.

I took from my waistcoat-pocket a pen-knife, opened it, grabbed/understood the poor beast by the throat, and (in a carefully-planned way) cut one of its eyes from the socket ! I (go red in the cheeks from embarrassment), I burn, I body-shake (from being upset), while I pen the (deserving curses) evil event.

I knew myself no longer. My original soul seemed, at once, to take its flight from my body; and a more than terrible danger, gin-fed and cared for, made extremely happy every fibre of my frame.

Our friendship lasted, in this manner, for (more than two, but not a lot of) years, during which my general personality and character -- through the (ability to serve a purpose or do something) of the Enemy Greed -- had (I (go red in the cheeks from embarrassment) to confess it) experienced a huge change for the worse. I grew, day by day, more moody, more irritable, more (without any concern about/having nothing to do with) the feelings of others. I suffered myself to use greedy/too much language to my wife. Eventually, I even offered her personal violence.

Alcohol

From my (very beginning stages) I was noted for the gentleness and people/(the kindness of people) of my personality/desire. My tenderness of heart was even so easily seen as to make me the joke of my companions. I was especially fond of animals, and was indulged by my parents with a great variety of pets. With these I spent most of my time, and never was so happy as when feeding and sweetly and gently touching them. This weird quality of character grew with my growth, and, in my manhood, I came/coming from it one of my principal sources of pleasure. To those who have loved and honored a feeling of love for a faithful and intelligent dog, I need hardly be at the trouble of explaining the nature or the strength of the pleasure this way derivable. There is something in the generous and kind and self-sacrificing love of an animal, which goes directly to the heart of him who has had frequent occasion to test the poor friendship and delicate and pretty loyalty of mere Man.

To me, they have presented little but Horror -- to many they will seem less terrible than barroques

Another verse of the religious song rose up, a slow and sad strain, such as the religious love, but joined to words which expressed all that our nature can think about sin, and darkly hinted at far more. Impossible-to-understand to weak human beings is the (old stories/old knowledge) of enemies. Verse after verse was sung; and still the chorus of the desert swelled between like the deepest tone of a mighty organ; and with the final ring of that terrible song there came a sound, as if the roaring wind, the rushing streams, the howling wild animals, and every other voice of the unorganized (land area that has never been changed by people) were mixing and according with the voice of guilty man in respectful and honor-filled message to the prince of all. The four burning pines threw up a higher flame, and unclearly discovered shapes and faces of horror on the smoke wreaths above the not religious (group of people/device made up of smaller parts). At the same moment the fire on the rock shot redly forward and formed a glowing arch above its base, where now appeared a figure. With (almost holy) respect be it spoken, the figure bore no small/short similarity, both in clothing and manner, to some very bad/very serious God-related thing of the New England churches.

Had Goodman Brown fallen asleep in the forest and only dreamed a wild dream of a witch-meeting?

Be it so if you will; but, (what a shame)! it was a dream of evil (bad sign of the future) for young Goodman Brown. A serious/severe, a sad, a darkly thoughtful, a suspicious, if not a (without hope/very upset) man did he become from the night of that afraid/scary dream. On the (religion-based day of rest) day, when the crowd were singing a holy religious song, he could not listen because a song of sin rushed loudly upon his ear and drowned all the blessed strain. When the minister spoke from the pulpit with power and excited ability to speak clearly and beautifully, and, with his hand on the open Bible, of the holy and untouchable truths of our religion, and of saint-like lives and proud (about winning) deaths, and of future extreme happiness or extreme unhappiness/extreme pain terrible, then did Goodman Brown turn pale, dreading (because of fear that the following will happen:) the roof should thunder down upon the gray person who insults God and his hearers. Often, waking suddenly at midnight, he shrank from the chest of Faith; and at morning or eventide, when the family kneeled down at prayer, he frowned and mumbled to himself, and looked seriously and sadly at his wife, and turned away. And when he had lived long, and was carried/held to his (place where a body is buried) an old and gray dead body, followed by Faith, an (old/allowed to get old/got older) woman, and children and (children of children), a good procession, besides neighbors many, they carved no hopeful verse upon his gravestone, for his dying hour was sadness/darkness.

"Well said, Goodman Brown! I have been as well (made) familiar with your family as with ever a one among the Puritans; and that's no small thing/little bit to say. I helped your grandfather, the police officer, when he tied/whipped the Quaker woman so smartly through the streets of Salem; and it was I that brought your father a pitch-pine knot, set on fire/started at my own fireplace, to set fire to an Indian village, in King Philip's war. They were my good friends, both; and many a pleasant walk have we had along this path, and returned happily after midnight. I would, with pleasure, be friends with you for their benefit."

Young Goodman Brown

being about to turn the corner by the meeting-house, he looked back and saw the head of Faith still peeping after him with a sad air, in spite of her pink ribbons.

take a cut

dame

Puritans;

"My Faith is gone!"

"Too far! too far!" yelled the goodman, unconsciously resuming his walk. "My father never went into the woods on such an errand, nor his father before him. We have been a race of honest men and good Christians since the days of the (people who die or suffer a lot rather than give up what they believe in); and will I be the first of the name of Brown that ever took this path and kept"

twist and turn itself like a living snake.