The chaotic, colorful Carnival, laughter and music everywhere. I am dressed in my jester’s costume, bells jingling as I weave through the crowd, a little dizzy from drink.
"What a glorious night! The wine is flowing and the city is alive. Ah, there’s Montresor—my old friend. He seems pleased to see me."
“Ah, Fortunato! I am glad to see you. You are luckily met.”
Skluzavka: 2
"It’s colder than I expected. The walls drip. My cough is acting up. Still, nothing will keep me from tasting that Amontillado."
The city fades behind as Montresor leads me through narrow, twisting streets and down into his family vaults. The air becomes damp and cold.
“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.”
Skluzavka: 3
We move to a quieter street. I notice Montresor is holding back, as if he has something important to say.
“Amontillado? A pipe? Impossible! Let us go and taste it.”
“I have received a pipe of what passes for Amontillado, but I have my doubts.”
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