Haunting Plots Frankenstein The Hound of the Baskervilles Macbeth Statement of Randolph Carter Dracula Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde Jane Eyre Table of Contents Haunting Plots The Raven Frankenstein Jane Eyre The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde Macbeth Dracula The Hound of the Baskervilles The Legend of Sleepy Hollow The Statement of Randolph Carter Certificate of Completion Want more workbooks? Join Education.com Plus to save time and money. http://www.education.com/education-plus/ Copyright © 2013 Education.com. All Rights Reserved The Raven Edgar Allan Poe, 1845 Read this version of Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven.” Find the definitions for the highlighted words in each stanza. Use clues from the text to help you. Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a strange and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. "'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door- Only this, and nothing more." And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, "'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door- Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;- This it is, and nothing more." Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I wasn’t sure I heard you"- here I opened wide the door;- Darkness there, and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?" This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"- Merely this, and nothing more. Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. "Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice: Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore- Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;- 'Tis the wind and nothing more!" Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore; Not the least kind gesture made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with air of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door- Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door- Perched, and sat, and nothing more. Copyright © 2013 Education.com LLC All Rights Reserved More worksheets at www.education.com/worksheets Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern, strange nature of the countenance it wore. "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven, Ghostly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore--- Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!---prophet still, if bird or devil!--- Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted- On this home by Horror haunted---tell me truly, I implore- Is there- is there balm in Gilead?---tell me- tell me, I implore!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." "Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting- "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken!---quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted---nevermore! 1. Pondered: a. ate b. thought about 8. Beguiling: a. tricking or deceiving b. changing 2. Lore: a. news articles b. legends 9. Countenance: a. expression b. fancy hat 3. Entreating: a. begging for b. ignoring 10. Desolate: a. refreshing b. lonely 4. Implore: a. ignore b. beg for 11. Undaunted: a. excited b. not discouraged 5. Murmured: a. spoke softly b. shouted 12. Fiend: a. friend b. cruel or wicked person 6. Lattice: a. a child’s toy b. a criss-crossed structure 13. Plume: a. feather b. crumb 7. Stately: a. sloppy b. dignified 14. Pallid: a. glowing b. pale ANSWERS: 1. b 2. b 3. a 4. b 5. a 6. b 7. b 8. a 9. a 10. b 11. b 12. b 13. a 14. b 14. a 13. b 12. b 11. b 10. a 9. a 8. b 7. b 6. a 5. b 4. a 3. b 2. b 1. Copyright © 2013 Education.com LLC All Rights Reserved More worksheets at www.education.com/worksheets Frankenstein: The Modern Prometheus Mary Shelley, 1818 Frankenstein was published at the height of the Industrial Revolution, a time of many new scientific discoveries. In the book, a scientist tries to create a creature out of old body parts. Frankenstein was not only scary because it was about a monster, but because it reflected peoples’ fears that science might one day go too far. It was on a dreary night of November that I beheld my accomplishment. With an anxiety that almost amounted to agony, I infused the first spark of being into the lifeless thing that lay at my feet. It was already one in the morning; the rain pattered dismally against the panes, and my candle was nearly burnt out, when, by the glimmer of the half-extinguished light, I saw the dull yellow eye of the creature open. It breathed hard, and a convulsive motion agitated its limbs. How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe, or describe the wretch I spent so much time and care making? His limbs were in proportion, and I had selected his features to be beautiful. But great God! His yellow skin barely covered the muscles and arteries beneath. His hair was a lustrous black, and his teeth were of a pearly whiteness, but these things only formed a horrid contrast with his watery eyes, his shriveled skin and straight black lips. I had worked hard for nearly two years, for the sole purpose of infusing life into an inanimate body. I had deprived myself of rest and health. I had desired it with a passion that far exceeded anything else. Now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished, and horror and disgust filled my heart. Unable to endure the sight of the being I had created, I rushed out of the room. How does the narrator feel at the beginning of the passage? How does he feel at the end? Why does the narrator feel the way he does at the end? Draw a picture based on the description of the monster. Copyright © 2013 Education.com LLC All Rights Reserved More worksheets at www.education.com/worksheets Jane Eyre Charlotte Bronte, 1847 Read the passage and answer the questions on the next page. I hardly know whether I had slept or not; at any rate, I started wide awake on hearing a vague murmur, which sounded as though it was just above me. The night was drearily dark; my spirits were depressed. I sat up in bed, listening. The sound was hushed. I tried again to sleep; but my heart beat anxiously. The clock in the hall struck two. Just then, it seemed my chamber-door was touched; as if fingers had swept the panels along the dark gallery outside. “Who is there?” I said, but nothing answered. I was chilled with fear. All at once I remembered that it might be Pilot, who, when the kitchen-door was to be left open, sometimes found his way up to Mr. Rochester’s chamber: I had seen him lying there in the mornings. The idea calmed me somewhat, and I lay down. An unbroken hush now reigned again through the whole house, and I began to feel the return of slumber. But it was not fated that I should sleep that night. A dream had scarcely approached my ear, when it fled affrighted, scared by a marrow-freezing incident enough. This was a demoniac laugh—low, suppressed, and deep—uttered, as it seemed, at the very keyhole of my chamber door. The head of my bed was near the door, and I thought at first the goblin-laugher stood at my bedside—or rather, crouched by my pillow: but I rose, looked round, and could see nothing. As I still gazed, the unnatural sound was reiterated: and I knew it came from behind the panels. My first impulse was to rise and fasten the bolt; but again I cried out, “Who is there?” Something gurgled and moaned. I heard steps retreat up the gallery towards the third-storey staircase: a door had lately been made to shut in that staircase; I heard it open and close, and all was still.