** Edgar Allan Poe **
(1846)
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 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 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 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 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 Luchresi.
If any one has a critical turn it is he. He will tell me
--"
"Luchresi 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. Luchresi--"
"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
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 make 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 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 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.
"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 eves 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 Luchresi
--"
"Enough," he said; "the cough's 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 long walls of piled skeletons, 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 flagon of De Grave. 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, "a sign."
"It is this," I answered, producing from beneath
the folds of my roquelaire a trowel.
"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 side 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 crypt or recess, in depth about four feet, in
width three, in height six or seven. It seemed to have been
constructed for no especial use within 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, endeavoured to pry into the depth of the recess. Its
termination the feeble light did not 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 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 the 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 labours 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 clamoured. I re-echoed, I aided, I surpassed them in
volume and in strength. I did this, and the clamourer 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 recognizing as that of
the noble Fortunato. The voice said--
"Ha! ha! ha! --he! 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, Montresor!"
"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; it was
the dampness of the catacombs that made it so. I hastened to
make an end of my labour. 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!