Our story today is called The Cask of Amontillado. It was written byEdgar Allan Poe. Here is Larry West with the story.
Fortunato and I both were members of very old and important Italianfamilies. We used to play together when we were children. Fortunatowas bigger, richer and more handsome than I was. And he enjoyed makingme look like a fool. He hurt my feelings a thousand times during theyears of my childhood. I never showed my anger, however, so he thoughtwe were good friends. But I promised myself that one day I wouldpunish Fortunato for his insults to me.
Many years passed, Fortunato married a rich and beautiful woman whogave him sons. Deep in my heart, I hated him. But I never said or didanything that showed him how I really felt. When I smiled at him, hethought it was because we were friends. He did not know it was thethoughts of his death that made me smile. Everyone of our townrespected Fortunato. Some men were afraid of him because he was sorich and powerful. He had a weak spot, however, he thought he was anexcellent judge of wine.
I also was an expert on wine. I spent a lot of money buying rare andcostly wines. I stored the wines in the dark rooms under my family’spalace. Our palace was one of the oldest buildings in the town. TheMontresor's family had lived in it for hundreds of years. We haveburied our dead in the rooms under the palace. These tombs were quietdark places that no one but myself ever visited.
Later one evening during carnival season, I happened to meet Fortunatoon the street. He was going home alone from a party. Fortunato wasbeautiful in his silk suit made of many colors, yellow, green, purpleand red. On his head he wore an orange cap covered with little silverbells. I could see he had been drinking too much wine. He threw hisarms around me. He said he was glad to see me. I said I was glad tosee him too. Because I had a little problem.
"What is it?" he asked putting his large hand on my shoulder.
"My dear Fortunato," I said, "I am afraid I have been very stupid. Theman who sells me wine said he had a rare barrel of amontillado wine. Ibelieved him. I bought it from him. But now I am not so sure that thewine is really amontillado.""What?" He said, "A cask of amontillado at this time of year. Anentire barrel? Impossible!""Yes, I was very stupid. I paid the wine-man the full price he wantedwithout asking you to taste the wine first. But I could not find you.
And now I was free, he would sell the cask of amontillado to someoneelse. So I bought it.""A cask of amontillado?" Fortunato repeated. "Where is it?"I pretended I did not hear this question. Instead I told him I wasgoing to visit our friend Neuqucy. "He will be able to tell me if thewine is really amontillado." I said.
Fortunato laughed at my face. " Neuqucy can not tell amontillado fromVinegar."I smiled to myself and said: "But some people say that he is a goodjudge of wine as you are."Fortunato grabbed my arm. "Take me to it," he said, "Oh, taste theamontillado for you.""But my friend," I protested, “It is late. The wine is in my winecellar underneath the palace. Those rooms are very damp and cold andthe walls dripped with water.""I do not care." He said, "I am the only person who can tell you ifyour wine-man has cheated you. Neuqucy can not."Fortunato turned and still hold me by the arm; hold me down the streetto my home.
The building was empty. My servants were enjoying carnival. I knewthey would be gone all night. I took two large candles, lit them andgave one to Fortunato. I started down the dark, twisting stairway withFortunato close behind me. At the bottom of the stairs, the damp airracked its s around our bodies.
"Where are we?" Fortunato asked, "I thought you said the cask ofAmontillado, you say, in your wine cellar.""It is," I said, "The wine cellar is just beyond these tombs where thedead of my family are kept. Surely you are not afraid of walkingthrough the tombs."He turned and looked into my eyes. "Tombs," He said. He began tocough. The silver bells on his cap jingled.
"My poor friend," I said, "How long if you had that cough.""That is nothing." He said, but he could not stop coughing.
"Come," I said firmly, "We will go back upstairs. Your health isimportant. You are rich respected, admired and loved. You have a wifeand children. Many people would miss you if you die. We will go backbefore you get seriously ill. I can go to Loquicy for help with thewine.""No, " He cried. "This cough is nothing. It will not kill me? I willdie from a cough?""Oh, that is true," I said, "But you must be careful."He took my arm and we began to walk through the cold dark rooms. Wewent deeper and deeper into the cellar. Finally we arrived in a smallroom.
Bones were pushed high against one wall. A doorway in another wallopened to an even smaller room. About one meter wide and two metershigh. Its walls were solid rock.
"Here we are." I said, "I hid the cask of Amontillado in there." Ipointed to the smaller room.
Fortunato lifted his candle and stepped into the tiny room. Iimmediately followed him. He stood stupidly staring at two ironhandicaps, chaining to a wall of the tiny room. I grabbed his arms andlocked them into the metal handicaps. It took only a moment. He wastoo surprised to fight me. I stepped outside the small room.
"Where is the Amontillado?" He cried.
"Ah, yes." I said, "The cask of Amontillado."I leaned over and began pushing aside the pile of bones against thewall. Under the bones was a basket of stone blocks, some cement and asmall shovel. I had hid the materials there earlier. I began to fillthe doorway of the tiny room with stones and cement.
By the time I laid the first row of stones, Fortunato was no longerdrunk. I heard a mourning inside the tiny room for ten minutes. Thenthere was a long silence. I finished the second and the third rows ofstone blocks. As I began the fourth row, I heard Fortunato began toshake the chains that held him to the wall. He was trying to pull themout of the ground of wall. I smiled to myself and stopped working sothat I could better enjoy listening to the noise.
After few minutes he stopped. I finished the fifth the sixth and theseventh rows of stones. The wall I was building doorway was now almostup to my shoulders. Suddenly loud screams burst from the throat of thechained man. For a moment I worried what if someone heard him? Then Iplaced my hand on the solid rock of the walls and felt safe.
I looked into the tiny room where he was still screaming and I beganto scream too. My screams grew louder than his. And he stopped. It wasnow almost midnight. I finished the eighth the ninth and the tenthrows. All that was left was a stone for the last hole in the wall. Iwas about to push it in, when I heard a loud laugh from behind thestones. The laugh made the hair on my head stand up. Then Fortunatospoke in a sad voice that the longer sounded like him.
He said: "Well. You have played a good joke on me. We will laugh aboutit soon over a glass of that Amontillado. But is it getting late? Mywife and my friends will be waiting for us. Let us go.""Yes," I replied, "Let us go."I waited for him to say something else. I heard only my own breathing.
"Fortunato," I called. No answer.
I called again, "Fortunato. " Still no answer. I hurried to put thelast stone into the wall and put the cement around it. Then I pushedthe pile of bones in front of the new wall I had built.
That was fifty years ago, for half a century now. No one has touchedthose bones. May he rest in peace! |