The Cask of Amontillado
by Edgar Allan Poe

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 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 goodwill. 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 adapted 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 Luchesi. 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 goodnature. I perceive you have an engagement. Luchesi—"

"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 Luchesi—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 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 ensure 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.

正文 2
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 webwork 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 Luchesi—"

"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 embedded 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 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.

"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.

正文 3
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 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 Luchesi——"

"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 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 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, 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—on account of the dampness of the catacombs. 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!

福吐纳托对我百般迫害，我都尽量忍在心头，可是一旦他胆敢侮辱我，我就发誓要xx了，您早就摸熟我生性脾气，总不见得当我说说吓唬人。总有{yt}我要xx雪恨；这个注意坚定不移，既然拿定主意不改，就没想到会出危险。我不仅要给他吃吃苦头，还要干得绝了后患。xx的自己得到报应，这笔仇就没了清。复仇的不让冤家知道是谁害他，这笔仇也没了清。
不消说，我一言一语，一举一动都没引起福吐纳托怀疑是存心不良。还是照常对他笑脸相迎，可他没看出如今我是想到要送他命才笑呢。
福吐纳托这人在某些方面虽令人尊重，甚至令人敬畏，可就是有个弱点。他自夸是品酒老手。意大利人没几个具有真正行家的气质。他们的热诚，多半都用来随机应变，看风使舵，好让英国和奥地利的大财主上当。谈到古画和珠宝方面，福吐纳托跟他同胞一样，夸夸其谈，不过谈到陈酒方面，倒是真正识货。这点我跟他大致相同——对意大利葡萄酒，我也算内行，只要办得到的话，就大量买进。
在热闹的狂欢节里，有天傍晚，正当暮色苍茫，我碰到了这位朋友。他亲热的招呼我，因为他肚里灌饱了酒。这家伙扮成小丑，身穿杂色条纹紧身衣，头戴圆尖帽，上面系着铃铛。我看见他真是高兴极了，不由想握着他的手久久不放。
我对他说：“老兄啊，幸会，幸会。你今天气色真是好到极点。我弄到一大桶所谓白葡萄酒（西班牙蒙蒂利亚生产的一种甜酒），可我不放心。”
“怎的？”他说，“白葡萄酒？一大桶？不见得吧！在狂欢节期间哪弄得到？”
“我不放心，”我答道，“我真笨透了，居然没跟你商量，就照白葡萄酒的价钱全付清了。找又找不到你，可又生怕错过这笔买卖。”
“白葡萄酒！”
“我不放心。”
“白葡萄酒！”
“我一定得放下这条心！”
“白葡萄酒！”
“瞧你有事，我正想去找卢克雷西呢。只有他才能品酒。他会告诉我——”
“可有些傻瓜硬说他眼力跟你不相上下呢。”
“快，咱们走吧。”
“上哪儿？”
“上你地窖去。”
“老兄，这不行；我不愿欺你心好就麻烦你啊。我看出你有事。卢克雷西——”
“我没事，来吧。”
“老兄，这不行。有事没事倒没什么，就是冷得够呛，我看你受不了。地窖里潮得不得了。四壁都是硝。”
“咱们还是走吧，冷算不了什么。白葡萄酒！你可上当啦。说到卢克雷西，他连雪梨酒跟白葡萄酒都分不清。”
说着福吐纳托就架住我胳膊；我戴上黑绸面具，把短披风紧紧裹住身子，就由他催着我上公馆去了。
家里听差一个也不见，都趁机溜出去过节了。我对他们说过我要到第二天早晨才回家，还跟他们讲明，不准出门。我心里有数，这么一吩咐，包管我刚转身，马上就一个个都跑光了。
我从烛台上拿了两个火把，一个给福吐纳托，领他穿过几套房间，走进拱廊，通往地窖，走下长长一座回旋楼梯，请他一路跟着，随加小心。我们终于到了楼梯脚下，一块站在蒙特里梭府墓窖的湿地上。
我朋友的脚步摇摇晃晃，跨一步，帽上铃铛就丁零当啷响。
“那桶酒呢？”他说。
“在前面，”我说，“可得留神墙上雪白的蛛网在发光。”
他朝我回过身来，两只醉意朦胧的眼睛水汪汪的盯着我。
“硝？”他终于问道。
“硝，”我答道，“你害上那种咳嗽有多久了？”
“呃嘿！呃嘿！——呃嘿！呃嘿！呃嘿！——呃嘿！呃嘿！呃嘿！——呃嘿！呃嘿！呃嘿！——呃嘿！呃嘿！呃嘿！”
我那可怜的朋友老半天答不上口。
“没什么，”{zh1}他说道。
“喏，”我依然答道，“咱们回去吧，你的身体要紧。你有钱有势，人人敬慕，又得人心；你象我从前一样幸福。要有个三长两短，那真是非同小可。我倒无所谓，咱们回去吧，你害病，我可担待不起。再说，还有卢克雷西——”
“别说了，”他说，“咳嗽可不算什么，咳不死的。我不会咳死。”
“对——对，”我答，“说真的的，我可不是存心吓唬你——可总得好好预防才是。喝一口美道克酒去去潮气吧。”
说着我就从泥地上的一长溜酒瓶里，拿起一瓶酒，砸了瓶颈。
“喝吧，”我把酒递给他。
他瞟了我一眼，就将酒瓶举到唇边。他歇下手，亲热的向我点点头，帽上铃铛就丁零当啷响了。
“我为周围那些长眠地下的干杯。”他说。
“我为你万寿无疆干杯。”
他又搀着我胳膊，我们就继续往前走。
“这些地窖可真大。”他说。
“蒙特里梭家是大族，子子孙孙多。”我答。
“我忘了你们府上的家徽啦。”
“偌大一只人脚，金的，衬着一片天蓝色的北京。把条腾起的蟒蛇踩烂了，蛇牙就咬着脚跟。”
“那么家训呢？”
“凡伤我者，必遭惩罚。”
“妙啊！”他说。
喝了酒，他眼睛亮闪闪的，帽上铃铛又丁零当啷响了。我喝了美道克酒，心里更加胡思乱想了。我们走过尸骨和大小酒桶堆成的一长条夹弄，进了墓窖的最深处，我又站住脚，这回竟放胆抓住福吐纳托的上臂。
“硝！”我说，“瞧，越来越多了。象青苔，挂在拱顶上。咱们在河床下面啦。水珠子滴在尸骨里呢。快走，咱们趁早回去吧。你咳嗽——”
“没什么，”他说，“咱们往下走吧。不过先让我再喝口美道克酒。”
我打开一壶葛拉维酒，递给他。他一口气喝光了，眼睛里顿时杀气腾腾，呵呵直笑，把酒瓶往上一扔，那个手势，我可不明白是什么意思。
我吃惊的看着他。他又做了那个手势——一个希奇古怪的手势。
“你不懂？”他说。
“我不懂。”我答。
“那你就不是同道。”
“怎的？”
“你不是泥瓦工。（原文是mason，在英文中泥瓦工与共济会会员解，按共济会发源与中古时代，最初系泥瓦工工会的一种秘密团体，以互相帮助为宗旨，相遇时以暗号联系。）”
“是的，是的，”我说，“是的，是的。”
“你？不见得吧！你是？”
“我是，”我答。
“暗号呢，”他说，“暗号呢？”
“就是这个，”我边说边从短披风的褶裥下拿出把泥刀。
“你开玩笑呐，”他倒退几步，喊着说。“咱们还是往前去看白葡萄酒吧。”
“好吧，”我说，一边把泥刀重新放在披风下面，一边伸过胳膊给他扶着。他沉沉地靠在我胳膊上。这就继续向前走，再往下走，到了一个幽深的墓穴里，这里空气浑浊，手里火把顿时不见火光，只剩火焰了。
在墓穴的尽头，又出现了更狭窄的墓穴。四壁成排堆着尸骨，一直高高堆到拱顶，就跟巴黎那些大墓窖一个样。里头这个墓穴有三面墙，仍然这样堆着。还有一面的尸骨都给推倒了，乱七八糟的堆在地上，积成相当大的一个尸骨墩。在搬开尸骨的那堵墙间，只见里头还有一个墓穴，或者壁龛，深约四英尺，宽达三英尺，高六七英尺。看上去当初造了并没打算派什么特别用处，不过是墓窖顶下两根大柱间的空隙罢了，后面却靠着一堵坚固的花岗石垣墙。
福吐纳托举起昏暗的火把，尽力朝壁龛深处仔细探看，可就是白费劲，火光微弱，看不见底。
“往前走，”我说，“白葡萄酒就在这里头。卢克雷西——”
“他是个充内行，”我朋友一面摇摇晃晃的往前走，一面插嘴道，我紧跟在他屁股后走进去。一眨眼工夫，他走到壁龛的尽头了，一见给岩石挡住了道，就一筹莫展的发着楞。隔了片刻，我已经把他锁在花岗石墙上了。墙上装着两个铁环，横里相距两英尺左右。一个环上挂着根短铁链，另一个挂着把大锁。不消一刹那工夫，就把他拦腰拴上链子了。他惊慌失措，根本忘了反抗，我拔掉钥匙，就退出壁龛。
“伸出手去摸摸墙，”我说，“保你摸到硝。真是湿得很。让我再一次求求你回去吧。不回去？那我得离开你啦。可我还先得尽份心，照顾你一下。”
“白葡萄酒！”我朋友惊魂未定，不由失声喊道。
“不错，”我答，“白葡萄酒。”
说着我就在前文提过的尸骨堆间忙着。我把尸骨扔开，不久就掏出好些砌墙用的的石块和灰泥。我便用这些材料，再靠那把泥刀，一个劲地在壁龛入口处砌起一堵墙来。
我连头一层石块也没砌成，就知道福吐纳托的醉意八成醒了。{zx0}听到壁龛深处传出幽幽一声哼叫。这不象醉鬼的叫声。随即一阵沉默，久久未了。我砌了第二层，再砌第三层，再砌第四层；接着就听到拼命摇晃铁链的声音。一直响了好几分钟，我索性歇下手中的活，在骨堆上坐下，为的是听得更加称心如意，待等当啷当啷的声音终于哑寂，才重新拿起泥刀，不停手的砌上第五层，第六层，第七层。这时砌得差不多齐胸了。我又歇下手来，将火把举到石墙上，一线微弱的火光就照在里头那个人影上。
猛然间，那个上了锁链的人影从嗓子眼里发出一连串尖利响亮的喊声，仿佛想拼命吓退我。刹那间，我拿不定主意，簌簌直抖，不久就拔出长剑，手执长剑在壁龛里摸索起来；转念一想，又放下了心。我的手搁在墓窖那坚固的建筑上，就安心了。再走到墙跟前，那人大声嚷嚷，我也对他哇哇乱叫。他叫一声，我应一声，叫得比他响，比他亮。这一叫，对方叫嚷的声音就哑了。
这时已经深更半夜了，我也快干完了。第八层，第九层，第十层早砌上了，{zh1}一层，也就是第十一层，也快砌完了；只消嵌进{zh1}一块石块，再抹上灰泥就行了。我拼了命托起这块沉甸甸的石块，把石块一角放在原定地位。谁知这时壁龛里传来一阵低沉的笑声，吓得我头发根根直立。接着传来凄厉的一声，好容易才认出那是福吐纳托老爷的声音。只听得说——
“哈！哈！哈！——嘻！嘻！嘻！——这倒真是个天大的笑话——绝妙的玩笑，回头到了公馆，就好笑个痛快啦——嘻！嘻！嘻！——边喝酒边笑——嘻！嘻！嘻！”
“白葡萄酒！”我说。
“嘻！嘻！嘻！——嘻！嘻！嘻！——对，白葡萄酒。可还来得及吗？福吐纳托夫人他们不是在公馆里等咱们吗？咱们走吧！”
“对，”我说，“咱们走吧！”
“看在老天爷份上走吧，蒙特里梭！”
“对，”我说，“看在老天爷份上。”
谁知我说了这句话，怎么听都听不到一声回答。心里渐渐沉不住气了，便出声喊道：
“福吐纳托！”
没答腔。我再唤一遍。
“福吐纳托！”
还是没答腔。我将火把塞进还没砌上的墙孔，扔了进去。谁知只传来丁零当啷的响声。我不由恶心起来，这是由于墓窖里那份湿气的缘故。我赶紧完工。把{zh1}一块石头塞好，抹上灰泥。再紧靠着这堵新墙，重新堆好尸骨。五十年来一直没人动过。愿死者安息吧！