The Cask of Amotillado
Updated: 12/2/2020
The Cask of Amotillado

Storyboard Text

  • "But I have received a pipe of what passes for Amontillado, and I have my doubts.”
  • “Let us go, nevertheless. The cold is merely nothing. Amontillado!"
  • “It is farther on."
  • “The pipe?"
  • Here I knocked off the neck of a bottle which I drew from a long row of its fellows that lay upon the mould.
  • “Drink"
  • “I drink"
  • “Enough the cough is a mere nothing; it will not kill me. I shall not die of a cough.”
  • “Yes, yes"
  • “It is this,” I answered, producing a trowel from beneath the folds of my roquelaire
  • A mason"
  • “You are not of the masons.”
  • “You? Impossible! A mason?”
  • “A sign"
  • A moment more and I had fettered him to the granite. Inits 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.
  • “The Amontillado!”
  • “Yes, for the love of God!”
  • “He! he! he!—he! he! he!—yes, the Amontillado...Let us be gone.”
  • I forced the last stone into its position; I plastered it up.
  • “For the love of God, Montressor!”
  • “Fortunato!”No answer. I called again—“Fortunato!”
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