How Did Fortunato Die

How Did Fortunato Die – I had endured a thousand insults from Fortunato as best I could, but when he dared to insult me, I vowed revenge. You, who know well the nature of my spirit, will not suppose, however, that I uttered a threat. At last they would avenge me; This was something that was definitely resolved, but the emphasis that was resolved, removed the idea of ​​danger. I must not only punish, but punish without being punished. Evil is not created when the punishment reaches the creator. Likewise, it cannot be repaired when the avenger does not feel that way in front of the one who has done wrong.

It must be understood that neither in words nor in actions did I give Fortunato reason to doubt my good will. I continued, as was my custom, smiling in his face, and he did not realize that my smile was now at the thought of his departure.

How Did Fortunato Die

He had a weak point, that Fortunato, although otherwise he was a man to be respected and even feared. He prided himself on his knowledge of wine. Few Italians have a truly good spirit. For the most part, his passion is accepted to suit the times and opportunities: practicing prostitution for British and Austrian millionaires. In colors and gems, Fortunato, like his colleagues, was a charlatan, but in the matter of old wines he was honest. In this respect I did not differ from him in nature: I myself was well versed in Italian grapes and bought a lot whenever I could.

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It was evening, one of the maddening afternoons of the carnival season, when I met my friend. He approached me with excessive heat, as he had drunk too much alcohol. The man was dressed in elegant clothes. He was dressed in tight, striped clothing, and his head was crowned with bells. I was so happy to see him, I thought I wouldn’t end up twisting his arm.

I said to him: “My dear Fortunato, I found you by chance. How beautiful you look today! But I have received a tube of what passes for Amontillado, and I have my doubts.

“I have my doubts”, I replied; and I was foolish enough to pay full price for Amontillado without consulting you on the matter. They couldn’t find you and I was afraid of losing business.

“Since you are engaged, I am on my way to Luchesi. If anyone has a critical turn, it’s him. He will tell me…

Monumenta Germaniae Historica Iv.1 2. Pars Prior: Venanti Honori Clementiani Fortunati, Presbyteri Italici, Opera Poetica. Pars Posterior: Opera Pedestria By Venantius Fortunatus. Fridericus Leo & Bruno Krusch (eds.): Very Good Hardcover (1881) |

“My friend, no; I will not force your good behavior. I see you have a mission. Luchesi-”

“My friend, no. It’s not the affair, but the severe cold that I see is troubling you. The rooms are unbearably damp. They are lined with nitrous.

“Anyway, let’s go. Cold is not just a thing. Amontillado! They put it on you. And as for Luchesi, he cannot tell the difference between Jerez and Amontillado”.

Speaking thus, Fortunato took my hand. Wearing a black silk mask, and fastening a roquelaire around me, I let him hasten me to my palazzo.

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There were no attendants at home; they had forgotten to enjoy themselves in the honor of the times. He had told them that he would not be back until morning and had expressly ordered them not to leave the house. These instructions were enough, he knew, to ensure his death once and for all, as soon as his back was turned.

I took two flambeaux from their sconces and, handing one to Fortunato, I led him through several sets of rooms to the main corridor that led to the rooms. I went down the long winding staircase, asking him to be careful as he followed me. At last we reached the bottom of the slope and stood together on the wet floor of Montresor’s cemetery.

He turned to me and looked into my eyes with two diaphanous circles that dripped the rheums of intoxication.

“Come,” I said without hesitation, “we will return; your health is precious. You are rich, you are respected, you are loved, you are loved; You are happy, like me before. You are a person to be missed. It doesn’t matter to me. We will return; You will be sick and I cannot be responsible. Also, there is Luchesi…

The Cask Of Amontillado Full Text

“Enough,” said he; “cough is nothing; not kill me I will not die from coughing.

“True, true,” I answered; and indeed I did not intend to frighten them unnecessarily, but you must be properly cautious. The flow of this Médoc will protect us from the humidity.

Here I broke the neck of a bottle which I took from a long line of fellows lying in the fog.

He lifted it to his lips with a relaxed look. He paused and nodded to me, his bells chirping. Blood, Sweat & Tears: Cds & Vinyl

“A great golden foot of man, in a field of blue; the foot crushes the mighty serpent whose teeth are stuck in the heel.”

The wine burned in their eyes and the bells rang. My own dream was inspired by Medoc. We had passed through walls of piled bones, and barrels and spikes interlaced, to the farthest corners of the tombs. I calmed down again, this time I dared to hold Fortunato with the hand above the elbow.

“Nitro!” I said; “Look, it’s rising. It hangs like moss over the vaults. We’re down the river. Drops of moisture run between the bones. Come, we’ll be back before it’s too late. Your cough…

I broke and gave him a cup of De Grave. He held his breath. His eyes shone with a bright light. He laughed and threw the bottle up in a gesture I didn’t understand.

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“So be it,” I said, placing the container under the robe and giving him my hand again. He leaned heavily. We continue our way in search of Amontillado. We passed through a series of low arches, descended, passed, and descended again, until we came to a deep hole, where the stench of the air made our flambeaux burn instead of fire.

At the far end of another crypt, a spacious floor appeared. Its walls were lined with human remains, piled up in an upper vault, in the manner of the great cemeteries of Paris. Three sides of this inner crypt were still decorated in this way. From the fourth side the bones had been thrown down and lay promiscuously on the ground, forming at one time a mountain of some size. Within the wall which has been exposed by the removal of the bones, we see a fixed inner hole, about four feet deep, three broad, and six or seven high. It seemed to have been built without any special use in it, but it only formed an interval between two large pillars of the roof of the catacombs, and was supported by one of its hard granite walls.

It was in vain that Fortunato, raising his light torch, tried to peer into the depths of the niche. Its complete weak light did not allow us to see.

“He doesn’t know,” my friend interrupted as he staggered forward, while I immediately followed. Once he had reached the end of the alcove, and as the rock halted his progress, he stupidly took aback. Sometimes he was chained to the granite. On its surface were two pieces of iron, about two feet apart, horizontally. From one of them he attached a short chain, from the other a lock. Throwing limbs around his waist, it was only a matter of seconds to secure it. He was too shocked to protest. Retrieving the key, I retreated from the alcove.

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“Put your hand,” I said, “on the wall; you can’t help but feel salty. In fact, it is very humid. Once again let me beg you to come back. No? So I must leave you. But first I must give you all the little precautions that are in my power.

While saying these words, I was dealing with a pile of bones that I have said before. Throwing them aside, I soon discovered the amount of building stones and mortar. With these materials and with the help of my palette, I started the wall of the niche door.

I had not put in the first course of masonry when I realized that Fortunato’s drunkenness had largely disappeared. The first indication I had of this was a low moan from the depths of the shaft. It was not the cry of a drunkard. Then there was a long, stubborn silence. I placed the second, third and fourth row; and then I heard the angry vibrations of the chain. The noise continued for several minutes, during which, in order to listen to it with greater satisfaction, I left my work and sat down.

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