The Cask of Amontillado — Edgar Allan Poe’s Revenge in the Catacombs
Edgar Allan Poe’s The Cask of Amontillado follows Montresor into the carnival catacombs, where he uses Fortunato’s pride in his wine expertise to carry out a meticulous revenge.
Insulted but outwardly friendly, Montresor exploits Fortunato’s pride as a wine connoisseur. Bells ringing from a fool’s costume, damp walls coated with nitre, family bones, and repeated warnings about a cough accompany their descent through the catacombs. By the time Fortunato recognizes the trowel and freshly laid stones, the carnival above is impossibly far away.
This complete Weekly Spooky dramatic reading presents Poe’s 1846 gothic short story with its tension, black humor, and carefully controlled first-person narration intact. “The Cask of Amontillado” remains a classic of psychological horror because Montresor never identifies the insult that inspired his plan—and because his calm confession leaves listeners to decide whether he feels triumph, guilt, or both after fifty years.
This episode is sponsored by HenFlix: https://henflix.com/.
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Poe’s original plot and prose remain the focus as the performance carries classic Gothic horror, revenge and supernatural justice, and love, family, and betrayal toward the ending without turning the show notes into a substitute for the story.
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One of my favorite memories of scaring
myself as a child was getting a compilation
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book of Edgar Allan Poe stories from
my elementary school library. It brought me
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so much fear and so much excitement. I remember running home from school with
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that book in my backpack as the
sky was dark and a storm was coming.
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I was in my childhood living room, but I wasn't alone. I
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had a pizza and the books of
Poe. Every so often I'll bring you
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a tale of Poe, and I
hope it gives you that scary fun sense,
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just the same as it does for
me. So listen to these words
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from our sponsors, and when the
clock strikes midnight, the story will begin.
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The Casque of a Manteado by Edgar
Allan Poe. The thousands of injuries
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of Fortunato had borne as I best
could, But when he ventured upon insult,
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I vowed revenge. You who so
well know the nature of my soul,
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will not suppose, however, that
I gave utterance to a threat at
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length I would be avenged. This
was a point definitively settled, but the
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very definitiveness with which it was resolved
precluded the idea of risk. I must
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not only punish, but punish with
impunity. A wrong is unredressed when retribution
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overtakes its redresser. It is equally
unredressed when the avenger fails to make himself
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felt as such to him who has
done the wrong. It must be understood
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that neither by word nor deed had
I given Fortunato cause to doubt my good
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will. I continued, as was
my wont to smile in his face,
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and he did not perceive that my
smile now was at the thought of his
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immolation. He had a weak point, this Fortunato. Although in other regards
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he was a man to be respected
and even feared, he prided himself on
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his connoisseurship in wine. Few Italians
have the true virtuoso spirit. For the
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most part, their enthusiasm is adopted
to suit the time and opportunity to practice
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imposture upon the British and Austrian millionaires
in painting and gemmery. Fortunato, like
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his countrymen, was a quack,
but in the matter of old wines he
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was sincere. In this respect I
did not differ from him materially. I
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was skillful in the Italian vintages myself, and bought largely whenever I could.
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It was about dusk one evening,
during the supreme madness of the carnival season,
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that I encountered my friend. He
accosted me with excessive warmth, for
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he had been drinking much. The
man wore motley, he had on tight
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fitting party striped dress, and his
head was surmounted by the conical cap and
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bells. I was so pleased to
see him that I thought I should never
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have done wringing his hand, I
said to him, my dear Fortunato,
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you are luckily met, how remarkably
well you are looking today. But I
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have received a pipe of what passes
for a mantiado, and I have my
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doubts, how said he, A
montiado a pipe possible, and in the
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middle of the carnival. I have
my doubts, I replied, And I
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was silly enough to pay the full
of mantiado price without consulting you in the
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matter. You were not to be
found, and I was fearful of losing
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a bargain. Montiado. I have
my doubts, Amontiado, and I must
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satisfy them. Amontiado, as you
are engaged I am on my way to
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Luchesi. If anyone has a critical
turn, it is he. He will
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tell me Luchesi cannot tell Amontiado from
sherry. Yet some fools will have it
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that his taste is a match for
yours. Come, let's go whither to
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your vaults, my friend. No, I will not impose upon your good
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nature. I perceive you have an
engagement. Luchesi, I have no engagement.
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Come, my friend, No,
it is not the engagement but the
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severe cold with which I perceive you
are afflicted. The vaults are insufferably damp,
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they are encrusted with niter. Let
us go. Nevertheless, the cold
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is merely nothing. Amontiado you have
been imposed upon. And as for Luchesi,
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he cannot distinguish sherry from Amontiado.
Thus speaking, Fortunato possessed himself of
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my arm, putting on a mask
of black silk, drawing a rocculareosle upon
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my person. I suffered him to
hurry me to my palazzo. There were
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no attendants at home. They had
absconded to make merry in honor of the
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time. I had told them that
I should not return until the morning,
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and had given them explicit orders not
to stir from the house. These orders
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were sufficient, I well knew to
ensure their immediate disappearance one and all.
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As soon as my back was turned, I took from their sconces two flambeaux,
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and, giving one to Fortunado,
bowed him through several suites of rooms
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to the archway that led into the
vaults. I passed down a long and
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winding staircase, requesting him to be
cautious as he followed. We came at
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length to the foot of the descent, and stood together on the damp ground
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of the catacombs montressors. The gait
of my friend was unsteady, and the
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bells upon his cap jingled as he
strode the pipe, said he. It
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is farther on, said I,
but observe the white web work which gleams
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from these cavern walls. He turned
towards me and looked into my eyes with
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two filmy orbs that distilled the room
of intoxication. Niter, he asked at
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length, Niter, I replied,
how long have you had that cough?
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H u h? My poor friend
found it impossible to reply for many minutes.
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It is nothing he said. At
last, come, I said,
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with decision, we will go back. Your health is precious. You are
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rich, respected, admired, beloved. You are happy as once I was.
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You are a man to be missed
for me. It is no matter
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we will go back. You will
be ill, and I cannot be responsible.
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Besides, there is LUCHESI enough,
he said. The cough is a
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mere nothing. It will not kill
me. I shall not die of a
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cough. True, true, I
replied, And indeed I had no intention
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of alarming you unnecessarily, but you
should use all proper caution. A draft
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of this medic will defend us from
the damps. Ere. I knocked off
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the neck of a bottle, which
I drew from a long row of its
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fellows that lay upon the mold.
Drink, I said, presenting him the
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wine. He raised it to his
lips with a leer. He paused and
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nodded to me familiarly, while his
bell jingled. I drink, He said,
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the buried that repose around us,
and I to your long life.
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He again took my arm and we
proceeded. These vaults, he said,
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are extensive. The Montressors, I
replied, were a great and numerous family
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I forget your arms, a huge
human foot door field azure, the foot
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crushes a serpent rampant whose fangs are
embedded in the heel, and the motto
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Imo me impune la sette good.
He said. The wine sparkled in his
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eyes, and the bells jingled.
My own fancy grew warm. With the
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medoc We had passed through the walls
of piled bones, with casks and puncheons
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intermingling, to the inmost recesses of
the catacombs. I paused again, and
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this time I made bold to seize
Fortunado by an arm above the elbow the
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nier, I said, see it
increases. It hangs like moss upon the
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vaults. We are below the river's
bed. The drops of moisture trickle among
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the bones. Come. We will
go back ere. It is too late,
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your cough, it is nothing,
he said. Let us go on.
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But first another draft of the medic
I broke and reached him a fleisson
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of de grave. He emptied it
at a breath. His eyes flashed with
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a fierce light. He laughed and
threw the bottle upwards with a gesticulation.
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I did not understand. I looked
at him in surprise, he repeated the
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movement a grotesque one. You do
not comprehend, he said, not,
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I, I replied, Then you
are not of the brotherhood. How you
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are not of the Masons. Yes, yes, I said, yes,
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yes, you impossible a Mason.
A Mason, I replied, A sign,
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he said, it is this,
I answered, producing a trowel from
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beneath the folds of my lair.
You jest, he exclaimed, recoiling a
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few paces. Let us proceed to
the Amantiado. Be it, so,
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I said, replacing the tool beneath
the cloak, and again offering him my
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arm. He leaned upon it heavily. We continued our route in search of
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the Amantiado. We passed through a
range of low arches, descended, passed
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on, and descending again. Arrived
at a deep crypt, in which the
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foulness of the air caused our flambeaux
rather to glow than flame. At the
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most remote end of the crypt there
appeared another, less spacious. Its walls
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had been lined with human remains piled
to the vault overhead, in the fashion
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of the Great Catacombs of Paris.
Three sides of this interior crypt were still
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ornamented in this manner. From the
fourth. The bones had been thrown down
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and lay promiscuously upon the earth,
forming at one point a mound of some
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size. Within the wall. Thus
exposed by the displacing of the bones,
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we perceived a still interior recess in
depth about four feet with three in height
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six or seven seemed to have been
constructed for no especial use within itself,
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but formed merely the interval between two
of the colossal supports of the roof of
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the catacombs, and was backed by
one of their circumscribing walls of solid granite.
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It was in vain that Fortunado uplifting
his dull torch in ever to pry
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into the depths of the recess its
termination. The feeble light did not enable
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us to see proceed. I said, herein is the Amantiado, as for
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LUCHESI he is an Ignoramus, interrupted
my friend, as he stepped unsteadily forward,
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while I followed immediately at his heels. In an instant he had reached
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the extremity of the niche, and, finding his progress arrested by the rock,
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stood stupidly bewildered. A moment more, and I had fettered him to
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the granite. In its surface were
two iron staples, and from each other
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about two feet horizontally. From one
of these depended a short chain, from
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the other a padlock. Throwing the
lynx about his waist, It was but
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the work of a few seconds to
secure it. He was too much astounded
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to resist withdrawing the key. I
stepped back from the recess. Pass your
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hand, I said over the wall. You cannot help feeling the nighter.
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Indeed, it is very damp.
Once more, let me implore you to
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return. No, then I will
positively leave. You must first render you
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all little attentions in my power.
The Amantiado ejaculated, my friend, not
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yet recovered from his astonishment. True, I replied the Amantiado. As I
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said these words, I busied myself
among the pile of bones of which I
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have before spoken, throwing them aside. I soon uncovered a quantity of building
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stone and mortar. With these materials, and with the aid of my trowel,
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I began vigorously to wall up the
entrance of the niche. I had
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scarcely laid the first tear of my
masonry when I discovered that the intoxication of
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Fortunado had in great measure worn off. The earliest indication I had of this
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was a low, moaning cry from
the depth of the recess. It was
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not the cry of a drunken man. There was then a long and obstinate
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silence. I laid the second tier, and the third, and the fourth,
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and then I heard the furious vibrations
of the chain. The noise lasted
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for several minutes, during which that
I might hearken to it with the more
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satisfaction, I ceased my labors and
sat down upon the bones. When at
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last the clanking subsided, I resumed
the trowel and finished without interruption the fifth,
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the sixth, and the seventh tier. The wall was now nearly upon
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a level with my breast. I
again paused in holding the flambeaux over the
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mason work, threw a few feeble
rays upon the figure. Within a succession
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of loud and shrill screams, bursting
suddenly from the throat of the chain,
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form seemed to thrust me violently back. For a brief moment, I hesitated,
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I trembled. Sheathing my rapier,
I began to grope with it about
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the recess. The thought of an
instant reassured me. I placed my hand
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upon the solid fabric of the catacombs, and felt satisfied. I reapproached the
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wall. I replied to the yells
of him who clamored. I re echoed,
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I aided. I surpassed them in
volume and in strength. I did
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this, and the clamorer grew still. It was now midnight, and my
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task was drawing to a close.
I had completed the eighth, the ninth,
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and the tenth tier. I had
finished a portion of the last and
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the eleventh. There remained but a
single stone to be fitted and plastered in.
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I struggled with its weight. I
placed it partially in its destined position.
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But now there came from out of
the niche a low laugh that erected
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the hairs upon my head. It
was succeeded by a sad voice, which
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I had difficulty in recognizing as that
of the noble Fortunado. The voice said,
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ha ha ha he he he,
a very good joke, indeed an
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excellent jest. We will have many
a rich laugh about it at the palazzo.
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He he he, over our wine, he he he the Amantiado.
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I said, yes, the Amantiado. But is it not getting late?
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Will they not be awaiting us at
the Palazzo eighty Fortunato and the rest.
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Let us be gone, Yes,
I said, let us be gone for
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the love of God montresor. Yes, I said, for the love of
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00:18:03.680 --> 00:18:08.160
God. But to these words I
hearkened in vain for a reply. I
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grew impatient. I called aloud Fortunato. No answer. I called again,
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Fortunato. No answer. Still I
thrust a torch through the remaining aperture and
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let it fall within. There came
forth in return only a jingling of the
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bells. My heart grew sick.
On account of the dampness of the catacombs.
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I hastened to make an end of
my labor. I forced the last
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stone into its position. I plastered
it up against the new masonry. I
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re erected the old rampart of bones. Half of a century, no mortal
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00:18:53.880 --> 00:19:07.440
has disturbed them. In patch requiescat
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