The Cask of Amontillado by Edgar Allan Poe

Thousands of injuries I have suffered from that man
that count

that Fortunato.

and I bore them, the best I could
but when he insults
me insults me like a man never must

I must vow my revenge
against him

Nothing risky of course
just what must be

I must punish thee


You shall feel me as I have felt your lashings
tongue-twistings wrongingly

Nothing in my manner gave the slightest indication
to the Fortunato that I was anything
but his greatest admirer

I smiled wrily
he knew nothing

This man this Fortunato was a man
to be reared
and respected
a proud connosseur of wine

with that Italian spirit of virtuous libation

a true gentleman in every sense of the world
in matters of vintage
no one could touch him

I too am skillful


evening in the supreme madness
of this carnival season

and I encounter my good friend
this Fortunato

He greets me with excessivity
drinking much

and I him

this motley fool

with his tight-fitting pants and party dress
comical cornical cap and bells

how gay he looked

why I couldn’t have dressed
him better myself

Fortunato, how pleased I am to meet
you on this great festive day

for I have something which I know
you will quite enjoy

“Oh, please say more.”

“Yes, it is the Cask of Amontillado”



That fine imbibement that libation
that pouring forth of liquid golden
purple hue

“Why, I say, you must think me such a fool
that you have a cask of amontillado!”

“Oh, I do, I do”

Come, let us go to my vaults
and I will share with you my Cask of Amontillado

“I shall be your guest”

“Yes, yes you shall.”

The vaults are cold
cavernous chambers of stone

no light shining through

“In here, this is where the Cask of Amontillado

“I follow you, to the end of the world,
for a taste of the Amontillado!”

“That you shall”

Deep into the darkness we walked
past the twists and turns
the stone masonry

the candle light leading the way

wax dripping




“My dear Sir, are we yet to find the Cask of Amontillado?”

“We are approaching near
here let us share a glass of Medo to cool our tempers
to keep our passion
but allow us relaxation
as we pass through these dark corridors
to what lies in store”

“Certainly! A splendid idea
pass the Medoc the Merlot what may be
what may flow”

“Yes, drink up, be giddy
there is a long ways to go”

And so, the great Fortunato became drunk
silly stupid stammering
in his clown costume
swaying forth

as they walked through sipping
the Merlot and Merdoc and what not

“It is right this way”
I beckoned him

through the draft the cold
the wind
of this icicle chamber
grasping at our

At last we passed through
with torches in hand
below the dark rounded

inside this crypt

moving pushing going forth
flowing into this

cup after cup

Fortunato the clown

“Is the Cask of Amontillado within reach?”
Fortunato did speak

“It is right this way”

I tell him, pray

we reach the end
and it is clear
his sobriety has fled
and now

I see him standing
swaying arms aflutter
totally bewildered
out of this world

disoriented head spinning

and so I begin to fasten
him with chains

to the floor

and the ceiling

“Why, what are you doing?”
Fortunato blurted

feeling the restrictions
on his frame

the chains the chains
these locks and key

clicking shutting entrapping
him in this standing position
here in the bottom

below in this icy cavernous

this crypt

where the Cask of Amontillado
he so eagerly awaits

is just out of reach

He laughs
He jests

“You are putting me on, good sir
very clever with your chains and
all that but the Cask
the Cask of Amontillado

where is it at?”

“Do not worry about the Cask”
I laugh back

hang tight

and I go and get the stones
and I begin to

hearing him laughing
sobbingly moan

One by one I place
them the stones upon
the wall building

closing him in

and he yells back

“Surely you must be joking
a good one A good one in deed!

Splendid such merriment
such a fantastic rouse

but please let me go
so we can go
and enjoy the splendor
of the Cask of Amontillado!”

I listen
I work
I listen
to him sniveling
drool dripping
eyes shriveling up
in tears

brick by brick
stone by stone
I work building
the wall trapping him in
he will be my ornament
this Fortunato
whose stones and arrows
I have suffered
too long

now, who is the joke on

The final stone I put in place
sealing up this gate

with Fortunato inside
in chains
breathing his last breaths
hanging on for dear

Revenge is mine!

“For the love of God, Montresor!”

he screams

“Yes, for the love of God!”

I seal him in


dismal cries

hanging there

graven picture
of death

and I go