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Audiobook Sample: The Cask of Amontillado

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Description

Home studio read of Cask of Amontillado ending.

Vocal Characteristics

Language

English (North American)

Voice Age

Middle Aged (35-54)

Transcript

Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
the cask of Amontillado by Edgar Allan Poe, the 1000 injuries of Fortunato I had borne as best I 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 unreal dressed when retribution overtakes its redress. Er It is equally under addressed when the Avenger fails to make himself felt as such, to whom 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 want to smile on 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 and wine. Few Italians have the true virtuoso spirit, for the most part, their enthusiasm is adopted to suit the time and opportunity to practice imposture upon the british and Austrian millionaires in painting in Gymboree 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 skillful in the italian vintages 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 monthly. He had on a tight fitting party 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 ringing his hand! I said to him. My dear Fortunato! Ur! Luckily met How remarkably well you are looking today! But I have received a pipe of what passes for a monte Otto! And I have my doubts. How? Said he. The monte Otto! A pipe! Impossible! And in the middle of carnival! I have my doubts, I replied. And I was silly enough to pay the full of monte Otto price without consulting you in the matter. You are not to be found. And I was fearful of losing a bargain amontillado! I have my doubts. A monte Otto! And I must satisfy them. Um, monte avocado as you are engaged! I'm on my way to look crazy! If anyone has a critical turn. It is he! He will tell me look crazy, 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 whether to your vaults, my friend. No, I will not impose upon your good nature. I perceive you have an engagement luke ray! 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 hair encrusted with nighter. Let us go! Nevertheless. The cold is a mere nothing amontillado you have been imposed upon, and that's for a loop. Crazy! He could not distinguish sherry from amontillado. Thus speaking, Fortunato possessed himself of my arm, and putting on a mask of black silk, and drawing a Rachael or closely about my person. I suffered him to hurry me to my palazzo. There were no attendance at home. They had absconded to make merry in honor 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 to flambeau, and giving one to Fortunato about 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 upon the damp ground of the catacombs of the mantra sores. The gate of my friend was unsteady, and the bells upon his cap jingled as he strode the pipe! He said. It is further on, said I, but observed the white web work which gleams from these cavern walls. He turned towards me and looked into my eyes with two filmy orbs that distilled the room of intoxication Knightr? He asked. It linked night. Er, I replied. How long have you had that cough? My poor friend found it impossible to reply for many minutes. It is, it is nothing, he said at last. Come, I said, with decision. We will go back to. Your health is precious. You are rich, respected, admired, beloved. You are happy as I once 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 luke, crazy enough. The coughs are mere nothing. It will not kill me. I shall not die of a cough. True true, I replied. And, indeed, had no intention of alarming you unnecessarily. But you should use all proper caution. A draft of this Madox will defend us from the dams here! I knocked off the head of a bottle, which I drew from a long row of its fellows that lay upon the mold drink! I said, presenting him the wine. He raised it to his lips with a Lear. 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. Our extensive the mantra sores, I replied. Were 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 in pune locus! It 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 long walls of piled skeletons with casks and puncheon's intermingling into the innermost recesses of the catacombs. I paused again, and this time made bold to seize Fortunato by an arm above the elbow the night. Er, 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 where it is too late! Your cough! It is nothing! He said. Let us go on. But first another draft of this mcduck! I broke and reached him a flagon of the grave. He emptied it out of breath. His eyes flashed with a fierce light. He laughed, and threw the bottle upwards with a gesticulations. I did not understand. I looked at him and surprised he repeated the movement. A grotesque Gordon? 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. A sign. It is this! I answered, producing from beneath the folds of my rock galore. A trowel! You just! He exclaimed, recoiling a few paces. But let us proceed to the amontillado, be it so! Said I, replacing the tool beneath the cloak, and again, offering him my arm. He leaned upon it heavily. We continued our out in search of 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 flambeau rather to glow than flame. At the 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 crip were still ornamented in this manner. From the 4th side 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 crypt, or recess in depth of about four ft and with three in height six or 7 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 endeavored to pry into the depth of the recess its termination. The feeble light did not enable us to see proceed, I said. Here in is the Amontillado. As for lou! Crazy! 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, 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 to iron staples Distant from each other, about two ft 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 night. Er, 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 Amanti Otto! 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 begin 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 great measure worn off. The earliest indication I had of this was a low moaning cry from the depth of 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 3rd and the 4th, 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 more satisfaction I ceased my labors and sat down upon the bone. When at last the clanking subsided I resumed the trowel, and finished without an eruption, the fifth, 6th and 7th Tier. The wall was now nearly upon a level with my breast. I again paused in holding the flambeau over the mason work through a feeble rays upon the figure within. The succession of loud and shrill screams bursting silently from the throat of the chain form seemed to thrust me violently back. For a brief moment I hesitated I trembled on achieving 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 re approached the wall. I replied to the yells of him who clamored. I re echoed. I aided I surpassed them in volume and in strength. I did this, and the clamor grew still. It was now midnight and my task was drawing to a close. I had completed the 8th and 9th and the 10th tier. I had finished a portion of the last and the 11th. 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 recognizing as that of the Noble Fortunato. The Voice said he. A very good joke indeed! An excellent, just! We will have many a rich laugh about it. At the palazzo. Yeah. Over our wine. The amontillado! I said, Mhm. Yes! Um monte! Otto! But is it not kidding late? Will they not 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 mantra, sir. Yes! I said. For the love of God. But to these words I harkened in vain for a reply. I grew impatient. I called allowed Fortunato. No answer. I called again for tune. Otto! 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. It was the dampness of the catacombs that made it so I hasten to make an end of my labor. I forced the last stone into its position against the new masonry. I re erected the old rampart of bones for the half of a century. No mortal has disturbed them in pacha request scott.