The Cask Of Amontillado Reading

THE CASK OF AMONTILLADO

by Edgar Allan Poe
(1846)

THE thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne equally I best could, but when he ventured upon insult I vowed revenge. Yous, who then well know the nature of my soul, volition not suppose, however, that gave utterance to a threat. At length I would be avenged; this was a point definitely, settled --but the very definitiveness with which it was resolved precluded the thought of hazard. I must not just punish but punish with impunity. A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its redresser. It is as unredressed when the avenger fails to brand himself felt every bit such to him who has done the wrong.

It must be understood that neither by word nor deed had I given Fortunato cause to doubt my practiced will. I connected, as was my in to smile in his face, and he did not perceive that my to smile now was at the thought of his immolation.

He had a weak point --this Fortunato --although in other regards he was a homo to be respected and fifty-fifty feared. He prided himself on his connoisseurship in vino. Few Italians accept the true virtuoso spirit. For the most office their enthusiasm is adopted to suit the time and opportunity, to exercise imposture upon the British and Austrian millionaires. In painting and gemmary, Fortunato, similar his countrymen, was a quack, but in the matter of old wines he was sincere. In this respect I did not differ from him materially; --I was skilful in the Italian vintages myself, and bought largely whenever I could.

Information technology was almost dusk, one evening during the supreme madness of the funfair season, that I encountered my friend. He accosted me with excessive warmth, for he had been drinking much. The man wore motley. He had on a tight-fitting parti-striped dress, and his head was surmounted by the conical cap and bells. I was then pleased to meet him that I thought I should never have done wringing his hand.

I said to him --"My dearest Fortunato, you are luckily met. How remarkably well y'all are looking to-mean solar day. But I accept received a pipe of what passes for Amontillado, and I take my doubts."

"How?" said he. "Amontillado, A pipage? Incommunicable! And in the middle of the funfair!"

"I have my doubts," I replied; "and I was silly enough to pay the full Amontillado price without consulting you in the matter. You were not to be institute, and I was fearful of losing a bargain."

"Amontillado!"

"I have my doubts."

"Amontillado!"

"And I must satisfy them."

"Amontillado!"

"Equally you are engaged, I am on my way to Luchresi. If whatever one has a critical turn information technology is he. He will tell me --"

"Luchresi cannot tell Amontillado from Sherry."

"And notwithstanding some fools will have information technology that his taste is a friction match for your own.

"Come up, allow the states go."

"Whither?"

"To your vaults."

"My friend, no; I volition non impose upon your skilful nature. I perceive you have an engagement. Luchresi--"

"I have no engagement; --come."

"My friend, no. It is non the engagement, just the severe cold with which I perceive you are afflicted. The vaults are insufferably damp. They are encrusted with nitre."

"Allow us go, withal. The cold is just zippo. Amontillado! You have been imposed upon. And as for Luchresi, he cannot distinguish Sherry from Amontillado."

Thus speaking, Fortunato possessed himself of my arm; and putting on a mask of black silk and drawing a roquelaire closely about my person, I suffered him to hurry me to my palazzo.

There were no attendants at home; they had absconded to brand merry in honour of the time. I had told them that I should not return until the morning, and had given them explicit orders not to stir from the business firm. These orders were sufficient, I well knew, to insure their firsthand disappearance, ane and all, as presently as my back was turned.

I took from their sconces two flambeaux, and giving 1 to Fortunato, bowed him through several suites of rooms to the entrance that led into the vaults. I passed down a long and winding staircase, requesting him to be cautious equally he followed. We came at length to the foot of the descent, and stood together upon the damp ground of the catacombs of the Montresors.

The gait of my friend was unsteady, and the bells upon his cap jingled as he strode.

"The pipe," he said.

"Information technology is farther on," said I; "but notice the white spider web-work which gleams from these cave walls."

He turned towards me, and looked into my eves with ii filmy orbs that distilled the rheum of intoxication.

"Nitre?" he asked, at length.

"Nitre," I replied. "How long have you had that cough?"

"Ugh! ugh! ugh! --ugh! ugh! ugh! --ugh! ugh! ugh! --ugh! ugh! ugh! --ugh! ugh! ugh!"

My poor friend found it impossible to reply for many minutes.

"It is aught," he said, at last.

"Come," I said, with decision, "we will go back; your wellness is precious. You are rich, respected, admired, beloved; you are happy, as once I was. You are a homo to be missed. For me information technology is no thing. We will become back; you will be ill, and I cannot be responsible. Besides, at that place is Luchresi --"

"Enough," he said; "the cough'southward a mere nothing; it will not kill me. I shall not dice of a cough."

"True --true," I replied; "and, indeed, I had no intention of alarming you lot unnecessarily --but you should use all proper circumspection. A draught of this Medoc will defend us from the damps.

Here I knocked off the neck of a bottle which I drew from a long row of its fellows that lay upon the mould.

"Drinkable," I said, presenting him the vino.

He raised it to his lips with a leer. He paused and nodded to me familiarly, while his bells jingled.

"I drink," he said, "to the buried that tranquillity around u.s.."

"And I to your long life."

He over again took my arm, and nosotros proceeded.

"These vaults," he said, "are extensive."

"The Montresors," I replied, "were a great and numerous family unit."

"I forget your arms."

"A huge human human foot d'or, in a field azure; the foot crushes a ophidian rampant whose fangs are imbedded in the heel."

"And the motto?"

"Nemo me impune lacessit."

"Skillful!" he said.

The wine sparkled in his eyes and the bells jingled. My own fancy grew warm with the Medoc. Nosotros had passed through long walls of piled skeletons, with casks and puncheons intermingling, into the inmost recesses of the catacombs. I paused once again, and this time I made bold to seize Fortunato by an arm above the elbow.

"The nitre!" I said; "see, information technology increases. It hangs like moss upon the vaults. We are beneath the river'due south bed. The drops of moisture trickle amid the bones. Come up, we will go back ere it is besides tardily. Your cough --"

"Information technology is nothing," he said; "let us keep. Merely kickoff, another draught of the Medoc."

I broke and reached him a flagon of De Grave. He emptied it at a breath. His eyes flashed with a fierce light. He laughed and threw the canteen upwards with a gesticulation I did not understand.

I looked at him in surprise. He repeated the motion --a grotesque ane.

"You do not comprehend?" he said.

"Non I," I replied.

"Then you are non of the alliance."

"How?"

"You are not of the masons."

"Yeah, aye," I said; "yes, yeah."

"You? Impossible! A bricklayer?"

"A mason," I replied.

"A sign," he said, "a sign."

"Information technology is this," I answered, producing from below the folds of my roquelaire a trowel.

"You jest," he exclaimed, recoiling a few paces. "Only let us continue to the Amontillado."

"Be information technology and then," I said, replacing the tool below the cloak and once again offering him my arm. He leaned upon it heavily. Nosotros continued our route in search of the Amontillado. We passed through a range of low arches, descended, passed on, and descending once again, arrived at a deep crypt, in which the foulness of the air caused our flambeaux rather to glow than flame.

At the most remote stop of the catacomb there appeared another less spacious. Its walls had been lined with human remains, piled to the vault overhead, in the style of the great catacombs of Paris. 3 sides of this interior crypt were notwithstanding ornamented in this mode. From the 4th side the bones had been thrown downwards, and lay promiscuously upon the earth, forming at i point a mound of some size. Within the wall thus exposed by the displacing of the basic, we perceived a still interior crypt or recess, in depth about four feet, in width iii, in height six or seven. It seemed to have been synthetic for no especial use within itself, but formed merely the interval between ii of the colossal supports of the roof of the catacombs, and was backed by i of their circumscribing walls of solid granite.

It was in vain that Fortunato, uplifting his dull torch, endeavoured to pry into the depth of the recess. Its termination the feeble light did non enable us to see.

"Proceed," I said; "herein is the Amontillado. As for Luchresi --"

"He is an ignoramus," interrupted my friend, as he stepped unsteadily forward, while I followed immediately at his heels. In niche, and finding an instant he had reached the extremity of the niche, and finding his progress arrested past the rock, stood stupidly bewildered. A moment more and I had fettered him to the granite. In its surface were ii iron staples, afar from each other well-nigh two anxiety, horizontally. From one of these depended a short chain, from the other a padlock. Throwing the links about his waist, information technology was just the work of a few seconds to secure it. He was also much astounded to resist. Withdrawing the key I stepped back from the recess.

"Laissez passer your hand," I said, "over the wall; you cannot aid feeling the nitre. Indeed, it is very damp. Once again allow me implore you to render. No? Then I must positively exit you. But I must first render you lot all the little attentions in my ability."

"The Amontillado!" ejaculated my friend, not yet recovered from his astonishment.

"True," I replied; "the Amontillado."

Every bit I said these words I busied myself amid the pile of basic of which I accept before spoken. Throwing them aside, I soon uncovered a quantity of building stone and mortar. With these materials and with the assist of my trowel, I began vigorously to wall up the entrance of the niche.

I had scarcely laid the commencement tier of the masonry when I discovered that the intoxication of Fortunato had in a neat measure worn off. The earliest indication I had of this was a low moaning weep from the depth of the recess. It was not the cry of a drunken homo. There was then a long and obstinate silence. I laid the second tier, and the tertiary, and the fourth; and and so I heard the furious vibrations of the concatenation. The noise lasted for several minutes, during which, that I might hearken to information technology with the more satisfaction, I ceased my labours and sat down upon the basic. When at last the clanking subsided, I resumed the trowel, and finished without suspension the fifth, the sixth, and the seventh tier. The wall was now nearly upon a level with my breast. I again paused, and property the flambeaux over the bricklayer-work, threw a few feeble rays upon the figure within.

A succession of loud and shrill screams, bursting all of a sudden from the throat of the chained form, seemed to thrust me violently back. For a brief moment I hesitated, I trembled. Unsheathing my rapier, I began to grope with it virtually the recess; only the idea of an instant reassured me. I placed my hand upon the solid fabric of the catacombs, and felt satisfied. I reapproached the wall; I replied to the yells of him who clamoured. I re-echoed, I aided, I surpassed them in volume and in strength. I did this, and the clamourer grew yet.

Information technology was now midnight, and my task was drawing to a close. I had completed the eighth, the ninth and the tenth tier. I had finished a portion of the final and the eleventh; at that place remained but a single stone to be fitted and plastered in. I struggled with its weight; I placed it partially in its destined position. But now in that location came from out the niche a low laugh that erected the hairs upon my head. It was succeeded by a sorry voice, which I had difficulty in recognizing every bit that of the noble Fortunato. The voice said--

"Ha! ha! ha! --he! he! he! --a very adept joke, indeed --an excellent jest. We will have many a rich laugh about it at the palazzo --he! he! he! --over our vino --he! he! he!"

"The Amontillado!" I said.

"He! he! he! --he! he! he! --yes, the Amontillado. But is it non getting late? Will not they be awaiting the states at the palazzo, the Lady Fortunato and the rest? Let us be gone."

"Yes," I said, "permit usa be gone."

"For the beloved of God, Montresor!"

"Yes," I said, "for the love of God!"

Merely to these words I hearkened in vain for a reply. I grew impatient. I called aloud --

"Fortunato!"

No respond. I called once more --

"Fortunato!"

No respond notwithstanding. I thrust a torch through the remaining aperture and permit it autumn inside. In that location came forth in return just a jingling of the bells. My heart grew ill; it was the dampness of the catacombs that fabricated it so. I hastened to make an end of my labour. I forced the last stone into its position; I plastered it upwardly. Against the new masonry I re-erected the old rampart of bones. For the one-half of a century no mortal has disturbed them. In pace requiescat!