134、大量文字的分段显示

134、大量文字的分段显示

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<DIV class=dynPage id=dynPage1>The Cask of Amontillado<BR><BR>by Edgar Allan

Poe<BR><BR>...<BR><BR>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.<BR><BR>It must

be understood that neither by word nor deed had I given Fortunato cause to doubt

my good will. 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.<BR><BR>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

adopted 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 skillful in the Italian

vintages myself, and bought largely whenever I could.<BR><BR>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.<BR><BR>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."<BR><BR>"How?" said he.

"Amontillado? A pipe? Impossible! And in the middle of the carnival!"<BR><BR>"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."<BR><BR>"Amontillado!"<BR><BR>"I have my

doubts."<BR><BR>"Amontillado!"<BR><BR>"And I must satisfy

them."<BR><BR>"Amontillado!"<BR><BR>"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--"<BR><BR>"Luchesi cannot tell Amontillado from Sherry."<BR><BR>"And yet some

fools will have it that his taste is a match for your own."<BR><BR>"Come, let us

go."<BR><BR>"Whither?"<BR><BR>"To your vaults."<BR><BR>"My friend, no; I will

not impose upon your good nature. I perceive you have an engagement.

Luchesi--"<BR><BR>"I have no engagement;--come."<BR><BR>"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."<BR><BR>"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."<BR><BR>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.<BR><BR>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 insure their immediate disappearance, one and all, as soon as my back

was turned.<BR><BR>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.<BR><BR>The

gait of my friend was unsteady, and the bells upon his cap jingled as he

strode.<BR><BR>"The pipe," said he.<BR><BR>"It is farther on," said I; "but

observe the white web-work which gleams from these cavern walls."<BR><BR>He

turned towards me, and looked into my eyes with two filmy orbs that distilled

the rheum of intoxication.<BR><BR>"Nitre?" he asked, at length.<BR><BR>"Nitre,"

I replied. "How long have you had that cough?"<BR><BR>"Ugh! ugh! ugh!--ugh! ugh!

ugh!--ugh! ugh! ugh!--ugh! ugh! ugh!--ugh! ugh! ugh!"<BR><BR>My poor friend

found it impossible to reply for many minutes.<BR><BR>"It is nothing," he said,

at last.<BR><BR>"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--"<BR><BR>"Enough," he said; "the cough is a mere nothing; it will not

kill me. I shall not die of a cough."<BR><BR>"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."<BR><BR>Here I knocked off the neck of a bottle which I drew from a long

row of its fellows that lay upon the mould.<BR><BR>"Drink," I said, presenting

him the wine.<BR><BR>He raised it to his lips with a leer. He paused and nodded

to me familiarly, while his bells jingled.<BR><BR>"I drink," he said, "to the

buried that repose around us."<BR><BR>"And I to your long life."<BR><BR>He again

took my arm, and we proceeded.<BR><BR>"These vaults," he said, "are

extensive."<BR><BR>"The Montresors," I replied, "were a great and numerous

family."<BR><BR>"I forget your arms."<BR><BR>"A huge human foot d'or, in a field

azure; the foot crushes a serpent rampant whose fangs are imbedded in the

heel."<BR><BR>"And the motto?"<BR><BR>" Nemo me impune lacessit."<BR><BR>"Good!"

he said.<BR></DIV>

<DIV class=dynPage id=dynPage2>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

catacombs. I paused again, and this time I made bold to seize Fortunato by an

arm above the elbow.<BR><BR>"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--"<BR><BR>"It is nothing," he said; "let us go on. But first, another

draught of the Medoc."<BR><BR>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.<BR><BR>I

looked at him in surprise. He repeated the movement--a grotesque

one.<BR><BR>"You do not comprehend?" he said.<BR><BR>"Not I," I

replied.<BR><BR>"Then you are not of the brotherhood."<BR><BR>"How?"<BR><BR>"You

are not of the masons."<BR><BR>"Yes, yes," I said; "yes, yes."<BR><BR>"You?

Impossible! A mason?"<BR><BR>"A mason," I replied.<BR><BR>"A sign," he said, "a

sign."<BR><BR>"It is this," I answered, producing a trowel from beneath the

folds of my roquelaire.<BR><BR>"You jest," he exclaimed, recoiling a few paces.

"But let us proceed to the Amontillado."<BR><BR>"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.<BR><BR>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 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 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.<BR><BR>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.<BR><BR>"Proceed," I said;

"herein is the Amontillado. As for Luchesi--"<BR><BR>"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.<BR><BR>"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."<BR><BR>"The Amontillado!" ejaculated my friend, not yet

recovered from his astonishment.<BR><BR>"True," I replied; "the

Amontillado."<BR><BR>As I said these words I busied myself among the pile of

bones of which I have before spoken. Throwing them aside, I soon un- covered 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.<BR><BR>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.<BR><BR>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.<BR><BR>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 recognizing as that of the noble Fortunato. The voice

said--<BR><BR>"Ha! ha! ha!--he! he! he!--a very good joke indeed--an excellent

jest. We shall have many a rich laugh about it at the palazzo--he! he! he!--over

our wine--he! he! he!"<BR><BR>"The Amontillado!" I said.<BR><BR>"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."<BR><BR>"Yes," I said, "let us be gone."<BR><BR>" For the love of God,

Montresor!"<BR><BR>"Yes," I said, "for the love of God!"<BR><BR>But to these

words I hearkened in vain for a reply. I grew impatient. I called

aloud--<BR><BR>"Fortunato!"<BR><BR>No answer. I called

again--<BR><BR>"Fortunato--"<BR><BR>No answer still. I thrust a torch through

the remaining aperture and let it fall within. There came forth in reply 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!<BR></DIV>

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