Sunteți pe pagina 1din 3



MONTRESOR: One must not only punish--that is not enough. A wrong is unredressed when the avenger fails to make
himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong. So, neither by word nor deed, did I give Fortunato cause to doubt
my good will. I continued, as was my want, to smile in his face. And he did not perceive that my smile now was at the
thought of his immolation.
FORTUNATO: Oh, Montresors, my good, good friend! Well met!
MONTRESOR: Luckily met, my dear Fortunato. How remarkably well you are looking today. What a handsome
disguise--motley cap and bells! But you're no fool, are you?
FORTUNATO: Not I. Mad perhaps. For all men are mad at carnival time.
you not one feather to spare for the carnival plumage?

Where is your costume, Montresors? Have

MONTRESOR: I have a mask under my cloak.

FORTUNATO: Nothing more?
MONTRESOR: Forgive me, Fortunato, my thoughts have been occupied. I have received a cask of what passes
for Amontillado--and I have my doubts.
FORTUNATO: Ha! Amontillado? A cask?

That's impossible! And in the middle of the carnival!

MONTRESOR: I have my doubts and I was silly enough to pay the full Amontillado price without consulting you in the
manner. You were not to be found and I was fearful of losing a bargain.
FORTUNATO: Amontillado!
MONTRESOR: I have my doubts.
FORTUNATO: Amontillado!
MONTRESOR: And I must satisfy them.
FORTUNATO: Amontillado!
MONTRESOR: As you are engaged, I am on my way to Luchesi. If any one has a critical turn, it is he. He will tell me -FORTUNATO: He will tell you? Luchesi? Luchesi cannot tell Amontillado from Sherry.
MONTRESOR: And yet some fools will have it that his taste is a match for your own.
FORTUNATO: Come let us go.
FORTUNATO: To your vaults.
MONTRESOR: My friend, no; I will not impose upon your good nature. I perceive you have an engagement Luchesi-FORTUNATO: I have no engagement; come.
MONTRESOR: 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.
FORTUNATO: Let us go, nevertheless. The cold is merely nothing. Amontillado! You have been imposed upon; and
as for Luchesi, he cannot distinguish Sherry from Amontillado.
MONTRESOR: If you insist, my friend.
FORTUNATO: Where are your servants?
MONTRESOR: I dismissed them all for the evening that they may celebrate the carnival. Cautious, Fortunato, their
stairs are treacherous.
MONTRESOR: Here we are: the catacombs of the Montressors.
FORTUNATO: The cask?
MONTRESOR: It is farther on, but observe the white webwork which gleams from these cavern walls.

MONTRESOR: How long have you had that cough?


It's nothing.

MONTRESOR: Come. 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 Luchesi-FORTUNATO: No, enough! The cough is a mere nothing; it will not kill me. I shall not die of a cough.
MONTRESOR: True--true. 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, drink.
FORTUNATO: I drink to the buried that repose around us.
MONTRESOR: And I to your long life.
FORTUNATO: Let us proceed.
FORTUNATO: These vaults are extensive.
MONTRESOR: The Montresors were a great and numerous family.
FORTUNATO: I forget your arms.
MONTRESOR: A huge human foot d'or, in a field azure; the foot crushes a serpent rampant whose fangs are
imbedded in the heel.
FORTUNATO: And the motto?
MONTRESOR: Nemo me impune man insults me with impunity.

Good! Excellent!

MONTRESOR: Stop. The nitre! Hold up your torch. 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-FORTUNATO: Oh, no! It is nothing. Let us go on. But first, another draught of the Medoc.
MONTRESOR: Ah! A flagon of De Grave.
MONTRESOR: What are you doing?
FORTUNATO: Making...the sign.
FORTUNATO: You do not comprehend?
FORTUNATO: Then you are not of the brotherhood.
FORTUNATO: You are not of the Masons.
MONTRESOR: The Masons? Yes! Yes.
FORTUNATO: You? Impossible! A Mason?
MONTRESOR: It is this--under my cloak.
FORTUNATO: A trowel?
MONTRESOR: Correct. A trowel--a mason's trowel.
FORTUNATO: You jest. But let us proceed to the Amontillado.
MONTRESOR: Be it so.
FORTUNATO: Oh, how much farther?
MONTRESOR: We must go to the most remote end of the crypt where the Amontillado is guarded by the bones of the
first Montresors. Do you weary?

FORTUNATO: No--not at all.

MONTRESOR: Are you certain? Your steps are unsteady. Perhaps this last flagon of Medoc-FORTUNATO: Nonsense.
MONTRESOR: The air here is particularly foul. See how the light of the torches wane? How feeble the flames are
FORTUNATO: Why do you hesitate?
MONTRESOR: We are here.
FORTUNATO: The cask!
MONTRESOR: In that recess.
FORTUNATO: In there, you say?
FORTUNATO: I--I can see nothing.
MONTRESOR: The light is too dim. You must go within. Proceed. In the little chamber is the Amontillado. As for
Luchesi-FORTUNATO: Bah! He is an ignoramus.
MONTRESOR: Pass your hand 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
FORTUNATO: The Amontillado!
MONTRESOR: True. The Amontillado. The thousands of injuries you have inflicted on me I borne as I best could, but
when you ventured upon insult, I vowed revenge.
MONTRESOR: You have a weak point, Fortunato. Although in other regards you are a man to be respected and even
feared. You pride yourself on your 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, you, like our countrymen, are a quack, but in the matter of old wines you are
FORTUNATO: A very good joke indeed--an excellent jest. We will have many a rich laugh about it at the palazzo-Over our wine-MONTRESOR: The Amontillado!
FORTUNATO: 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.
MONTRESOR: Yes, let us be gone.
FORTUNATO: For the love of God, Montresor!
MONTRESOR: Yes, for the love of God!
MONTRESOR: Fortunato? Fortunato? Oh, well. One more stone.
In pace requiescat!