Edgar Allan Poe



   The Cask of Amontillado


    The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could; but when he 
ventured upon insult, I vowed revenge. You, who so well know the nature  of  my 
soul, will not suppose, however, that I gave utterance to a threat. At length I 
would be  avenged;  this  was  a  point  definitively  settled - but  the  very 
definitiveness with which it was resolved, precluded the idea of risk.  I  must 
not only punish,  but  punish  with  impunity.  A  wrong  is  unredressed  when 
retribution overtakes its redresser. It is equally unredressed when the avenger 
fails to make himself felt as 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 good will. I continued, as was my wont, to smile in his face, 
and he did not perceive that my smile now was at the thought of his immolation.
    He had a weak point - this Fortunato - although in  other  regards  he  was 
a man to be respected and even feared. He prided himself on his connoisseurship 
in wine. Few Italians have the true virtuoso spirit. For the  most  part  their 
enthusiasm is adopted to suit the time and opportunity - to practise  imposture 
upon the British and Austrian millionaires. In painting and gemmary, Fortunato, 
like 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.
    It was about dusk, one evening during the supreme madness of  the  carnival 
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 so pleased to see him, that I thought I should never have  done  wringing 
his hand.
    I said to him - "My dear Fortunato, you are  luckily  met.  How  remarkably 
well you are looking to-day! But I have received a  pipe  of  what  passes  for 
Amontillado, and I have my doubts."
    "How?" said he. "Amontillado? A pipe? Impossible! And in the middle of  the 
carnival!"
    "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 
found, and I was fearful of losing a bargain."
    "Amontillado !"
    "I have my doubts."
    "Amontillado !"
    "And I must satisfy them."
    "Amontillado !"
    "As you are engaged, I am on my way to Lucresi. If any one has  a  critical 
turn, it is he. He will tell me -" 
    "Luchesi cannot tell Amontillado from Sherry."
    "And yet some fools will have it that his taste is a match for your own."
    "Come, let us go."
    "Whither ?"
    "To your vaults."
    "My friend, no; I will not impose upon your good  nature.  I  perceive  you 
have an engagement. Lucresi -"
    "I have no engagement; - come."
    "My friend, no. It is not the engagement, but the severe  cold  with  which 
I perceive you are afflicted.  The  vaults  are  insufferably  damp.  They  are 
encrusted with nitre."
    "Let us go, nevertheless. The cold is merely nothing. Amontillado! You have 
been imposed upon. And as  for  Lucresi,  he  cannot  distinguish  Sherry  from 
Amontillado."
    Thus speaking, Fortunato possessed himself of my arm. 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 make merry in honor 
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 house.  These  orders  were 
sufficient, I well knew, to insure their immediate disappearance, one and  all, 
as soon as my back was turned.
    I took from their sconces two flambeaux, and giving one to Fortunato, bowed 
him through several suites of rooms to the archway that led  into  the  vaults. 
I passed down a long and winding staircase, requesting him to be cautious as he 
followed. We came at length to the foot of the descent, and stood  together  on 
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," said he.
    "It is farther on," said I; "but observe the white  web-work  which  gleams 
from these cavern walls."
    He turned towards me, and looked into my eyes  with  two  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 nothing," he said, at last.
    "Come," I said, with decision, "we will go back; your health  is  precious. 
You are rich, respected, admired, beloved; you are happy, as once  I  was.  You 
are a man to be missed. For me it is no matter. We will go back;  you  will  be 
ill, and I cannot be responsible. Besides, there is Lucresi -"
    "Enough," he said; "the cough is a mere  nothing;  it  will  not  kill  me. 
I shall not die of a cough."
    "True - true," I replied; "and, indeed, I had no intention of alarming  you 
unnecessarily - but you should use all proper caution. 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.
    "Drink," I said, presenting him the wine.
    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 repose around us."
    "And I to your long life."
    He again took my arm, and we proceeded.
    "These vaults," he said, "are extensive."
    "The Montresors," I replied, "were a great and numerous family."
    "I forget your arms."
    "A huge human foot d'or, in a field  azure;  the  foot  crushes  a  serpent 
rampant whose fangs are imbedded in the heel."
    "And the motto ?"
    "Nemo me impune lacessit."
    "Good!" he said.
    The wine sparkled in his eyes and the bells jingled. My own fancy grew warm 
with the Medoc. We had passed through walls of  piled  bones,  with  casks  and 
puncheons intermingling, into the inmost recesses of the  catacombs.  I  paused 
again, and this time I made bold to seize Fortunato by an arm above the elbow.
    "The nitre!" I said: "see, it  increases.  It  hangs  like  moss  upon  the 
vaults. We are below the river's bed. The drops of moisture trickle  among  the 
bones. Come, we will go back ere it is too late. Your cough -"
    "It is nothing," he said; "let us go on. But first, another draught of  the 
Medoc."
    I broke and reached him a flaçon of De Grâve. He emptied it  at  a  breath. 
His eyes flashed with a fierce light. He laughed and threw the  bottle  upwards 
with a gesticulation I did not understand.
    I looked at him in surprise. He repeated the movement - a grotesque one.
    "You do not comprehend?" he said.
    "Not I," I replied.
    "Then you are not of the brotherhood."
    "How?"
    "You are not of the masons."
    "Yes, yes," I said, "yes, yes."
    "You? Impossible! A mason?"
    "A mason," I replied.
    "A sign," he said.
    "It is this," I answered, producing a trowel from beneath the folds  of  my 
roquelaire.
    "You jest," he exclaimed, recoiling a few paces. "But let us proceed to the 
Amontillado."
    "Be it so," I said,  replacing  the  tool  beneath  the  cloak,  and  again 
offering him my arm. He leaned upon it  heavily.  We  continued  our  route  in 
search of the Amontillado. We passed through a range of low arches,  descended, 
passed on, and descending 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 end of the crypt there appeared another  less  spacious. 
Its walls had been lined with human remains, piled to the  vault  overhead,  in 
the fashion of the great catacombs of Paris. Three sides of this interior crypt 
were still ornamented in this manner. From the fourth the bones had been thrown 
down, and lay promiscuously upon the earth, forming at one  point  a  mound  of 
some size. Within the wall thus exposed by the  displacing  of  the  bones,  we 
perceived a still interior recess, in depth about four feet, in width three, in 
height six or seven. It seemed to have been constructed for no especial use  in 
itself, but formed merely the interval between two of the colossal supports  of 
the roof of the catacombs, and was backed by one of their circumscribing  walls
of solid granite.
    It was in vain that Fortunato, uplifting his dull torch, endeavored to  pry 
into the depths of the recess. Its termination the feeble light did not  enable 
us to see.
    "Proceed," I said; "herein is the Amontillado. As for Lucresi -"
    "He is an ignoramus," interrupted  my  friend,  as  he  stepped  unsteadily 
forward, while I followed immediately at  his  heels.  In  an  instant  he  had 
reached the extremity of the niche, and finding his progress  arrested  by  the 
rock, stood stupidly bewildered. A moment more and I had fettered  him  to  the 
granite. In its surface were two iron staples, distant from  each  other  about 
two feet, horizontally. From one of these depended  a  short  chain,  from  the 
other a padlock. Throwing the links about his waist, it was  but  the  work  of 
a few seconds to secure it. He was too much astounded  to  resist.  Withdrawing 
the key I stepped back from the recess.
    "Pass your hand," I said, "over the  wall;  you  cannot  help  feeling  the 
nitre. Indeed it is very damp. Once more let me implore you to return. No? Then 
I must positively leave you. But  I  must  first  render  you  all  the  little 
attentions in my power."
    "The Amontillado !" ejaculated  my  friend,  not  yet  recovered  from  his 
astonishment.
    "True," I replied; "the Amontillado."
    As I said these words I busied myself among the  pile  of  bones  of  which 
I have before spoken. Throwing them aside,  I  soon  uncovered  a  quantity  of 
building stone and mortar. With these materials and with the aid of my  trowel, 
I began vigorously to wall up the entrance of the niche.
    I had scarcely laid the first tier of my masonry when I discovered that the 
intoxication of Fortunato had  in  a  great  measure  worn  off.  The  earliest 
indication I had of this was a low moaning cry from the depth of the recess. It 
was not the cry of a drunken man. There was then a long and obstinate  silence. 
I laid the second tier, and the third, and the fourth; and  then  I  heard  the 
furious vibrations of the chain. The noise lasted for several  minutes,  during 
which, that I might hearken to it with  the  more  satisfaction,  I  ceased  my 
labors and sat down upon  the  bones.  When  at  last  the  clanking  subsided, 
I resumed the trowel, and finished without interruption the fifth,  the  sixth, 
and the seventh tier. The wall was now nearly upon  a  level  with  my  breast. 
I again paused, and holding the flambeaux over  the  mason-work,  threw  a  few 
feeble rays upon the figure within.
    A succession of loud and shrill screams, bursting suddenly 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 about 
the recess: but the thought 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 clamored. I re-echoed - I aided - I surpassed 
them in volume and in strength. I did this, and the clamorer grew still.
    It 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 last 
and the eleventh; there 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 there came from out the niche a low laugh  that  erected  the
hairs upon my head. It was succeeded by a sad voice, which I had difficulty  in 
recognising as that of the noble Fortunato. The voice said -
    "Ha! ha! ha! - he! he! - a very good joke indeed - an  excellent  jest.  We 
will have many a rich laugh about it at the palazzo - he! he! he!  -  over  our 
wine - he! he! he!"
    "The Amontillado !" I said.
    "He! he! he! - he! he! he! - yes, the Amontillado. But is  it  not  getting 
late? Will not they be awaiting us at the palazzo, the Lady Fortunato  and  the 
rest? Let us be gone."
    "Yes," I said, "let us be gone."
    " For the love of God, Montressor! "
    "Yes," I said, "for the love of God!"
    But to these words I hearkened in vain  for  a  reply.  I  grew  impatient. 
I called aloud -
    "Fortunato !"
    No answer. I called again -
    "Fortunato !"
    No answer still. I thrust a torch through the remaining aperture and let it 
fall within. There came forth in return only a jingling of the bells. My  heart 
grew sick - on account of the dampness of the catacombs. I hastened to make  an 
end of my labor. I forced the last stone into its position; I plastered it  up. 
Against the new masonry I re-erected the old rampart of bones. For the half  of 
a century no mortal has disturbed them. In pace requiescat!

    1846


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