Penny Dreadfuls, 1812 · page 109 of 258
Psyche, and other poems — page 109: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page 91: Running Prose from a Penny Dreadful This page contains running prose (numbered page 91) from what appears to be a Gothic melodrama. A female character hears mysterious groans emanating from a hidden cave. A guard urges her reluctantly toward the cavern, claiming a magical sage dwelling within can answer her questions about her betrayal by a faithless knight. As they enter the lightless cave—inhabited by screaming owls—the guard reveals a sickly lamp and a sinister "wretched master," described as a "devouring fiend" whose blood-stained hands have lacerated his own flesh. The passage exemplifies penny dreadful sensationalism through Gothic atmosphere, melodramatic mystery, and hints of supernatural or cannibalistic horror.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
ea 91 Hark ! a low hollow groan she seems to hear Repeated oft ; wondering she looks around : It seemed to issue from some cavern near, Or low hut hidden by the rising ground ; For, though it seemed the melancholy sound Of human voice, no human form was nigh ; Her eye no human habitation found, But as she listening gazed attentively, Her shuddering ears received the deep and long drawn ~ sigh, - The guard who nearest stood now whispering said, ‘Hf aught of doubt remain within thy mind, Or wish to know why thus thou wert betrayed, Or what strange cause thy faithless knight inclined “To leave the charge he with such scorn resigned, ‘‘Rach curious thought thou now mayst satisfy, “Since here the entrance of a caye we find, ‘‘Where dwells, deep hid from day’s too garish eye, _ A sage whose magic skill can solve each mystery.” He staid not her reply, but urged her on Reluctant to the dark and dreary cave ; No beam of cheerful Heaven had ever shone In the recesses of that gloomy grave, Where screaming owls their daily dwelling crave. One sickly lamp the wretched master shewed ; Devouring fiend! Who new the prey shall save From his fell gripe, whose hands in blood imbrued, In his own bosom seek his lacerated food ? rs Connicloooks.comn)