Poe is the Raven!

That was one very mrobid and grotesque man! He associated himself with the Raven so much that they become one in the same. He even had it engraved on his tombstone!

Why do u think was he so fascinated by this creature of ill omen?

More Edgar Allan Poe/Raven cartoons

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming.
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floorShall be lifted---nevermore!

Grade 9 Writing pic prompt ii

Follow the same criteria mentioned in The Cow/Hippo story.

However, the narrator can be:

* the drowning man's ghost

* the thief

* a third person watching the event (voyeur)

*If you want to change the ending and save the drowning man, then the narrator can be the drowning man after he recovered.

Another contribution by Grade 10, Farah Khalil, you're a star!

Oliver Cromwell played a leading role in bringing Charles I to trial and execution, and was a key figure during the civil war. Why does he remain one of the country's most controversial public figure
A unique leader
Oliver Cromwell rose from the middle ranks of English society to be Lord Protector of England, Scotland and Ireland, the only non-royal ever to hold that position. He played a leading role in bringing Charles I to trial and to execution; he undertook the most complete and the most brutal military conquest ever undertaken by the English over their neighbours; he championed a degree of religious freedom otherwise unknown in England before the last one hundred years; but the experiment he led collapsed within two years of his death, and his corpse dangled from a gibbet at Tyburn. He was - and remains - one of the most contentious figures in world history
'Cromwell had been converted to a strong puritan faith'
Oliver Cromwell was born on 25 April 1599 in Huntingdon. His ancestors had benefited from the power of a distant relative, Thomas Cromwell, who secured them former monastic lands in 1538-9. Cromwell's grandfather built an elegant house on the outskirts of Huntingdon and regularly entertained King James (the hunting was good in Huntingdon) and other prominent courtiers. But Cromwell's father was a younger son who only inherited a small part of the family fortune and he was brought up in a modest town house. Burdened by debt and a decline in his fortunes, he sold up in 1630, and took a lease on a farm a few miles away, in St Ives. It would appear that in 1634 Cromwell attempted to emigrate to Connecticut in America, but was prevented by the government from leaving.
For Cromwell had been converted to a strong puritan faith, and he found living within a church still full of 'popish' ceremonies unbearable. He yearned to be where the gospel was proclaimed and preached unadorned. He stayed and became more radical in his religion - he regularly preached at an illegal religious assembly and he referred in a letter to the Bishop as 'the enemies of God His Truth'. When the chance came, he stood for Parliament, and was returned on the interest of a Puritan caucus, for the town of Cambridge.

Member of Parliament (1640 - 1649)
Cromwell was a highly visible and volatile member of parliament from 1640-2 and whenever he took his seat in between military campaigns. In the early months of the Long Parliament, he was outspoken on the need for reform of the Church 'roots and branches' and he was the first man to demand the outright abolition of bishops. He was also prominent in the campaign to force the king into calling annual sessions of Parliament; and he demanded that control of home defence be transferred from the King to officers directly appointed by Parliament. As the country drifted into civil war, he was one of the activist M.P.s sent into the provinces to raise troops 'for the defence of the realm'. He galvanised the areas around Huntingdon and Ely and used force to prevent the Cambridge Colleges sending their silver to the King's headquarters to support his war effort.
He was quickly commissioned into the army, and spent most of the next four years in arms. But in the winter of 1644/5 he returned to Parliament and bitterly denounced the parliamentarian generals for half-heartedness and an unwillingness to promote low-born men with radical religious views who had a passion for victory over gentlemen who looked for a negotiated, compromise peace. Controversially, he was the only M.P. exempted from an ordinance that recalled Members of both Houses to serve in Parliament, but even he served out the war in the 'New Model Army' on a series of 40-day commissions. It was only in 1647 that he was confirmed as the Lieutenant General.
'For too long, Cromwell trusted in the King's willingness to agree to his proposals'
In 1647-8 he argued in favour of a settlement with the king that would require him to accept Cromwell's political allies as his ministers and which would guarantee rights of religious liberty for all sincere protestants. This brought him into conflict with those in Parliament who wanted to replace the old Church of England, with a new 'Presbyterian' Church based on the teachings of Calvin and the experience of Geneva and Scotland, but also with more radical voices that wanted a much more democratic system of government - the right of all adult males to vote, for example. For too long, Cromwell trusted in the King's willingness to agree to his proposals. When, instead, he escaped from army custody and launched a second civil war, Cromwell rounded on him and hounded him to death.

Soldier (1642 - 1651)
Given his lack of previous military experience, Cromwell's military rise was spectacular: captain in 1642, colonel early in 1643, in charge of the cavalry of the second most important of the regional armies by the end of the year, Lieutenant General of the New Model 1645-9 and Lord General for the campaigns in Ireland (1649-50) and Scotland (1650-1). In 1642-4, he helped to put East Anglia under complete parliamentarian control, and worked tirelessly to create the most efficient and responsive civilian support structure in the country, ensuring the flow of money and supplies to his troops. He took part in five of the ten major battles, moving his troops as far west as Newbury and as far north as York. His role in the greatest of victories, at Marston Moor in July 1644, was crucial.
In 1645-6 he again played a vital role, in the planning of campaigns and on major battlefields, as the New Model systematically destroyed the remaining royalist armies at Naseby in Northampton in June 1645, Langport in Somerset a month later and then in a relentless series of sieges of royalist strongholds. He was not a military innovator or a brilliant tactician, but he had an extraordinary ability to instill self-belief into his men, to share with him his own utter conviction that God was with them and willing them to victory; and he ruthless and relentlessly ensured that they were better paid and fed than were other armies, even if that meant some controversial requisitioning of supplies. In 1647, he struggled to maintain the unity of army in the face both of Parliament's attempts to disband it before a political settlement was reached with a defeated king and of radical attempts to eliminate monarchy and to establish a constitution that would promote a major redistribution of wealth and social and economic power. In 1648, Charles I tried to overturn his defeat in the First Civil War by making a new alliance with the Scots and calling on former royalists and disillusioned Parliamentarians to rise up. Faced by revolt across Britain, the New Model divided and Cromwell took on the lion's share of the work, crushing a major rebellion in South Wales, defeating a Scots invasion force at Preston and then pacifying Yorkshire.
'...every tenth common soldier - were killed, many clubbed to death. It was in accordance with the laws of war, but it went far beyond what any General had done in England'
In the summer of 1649, Cromwell was sent to Ireland with two objectives: to place it firmly under English control; to superintend the confiscation the land of all 'rebels' - as a result almost forty per cent of the land of Ireland was redistributed from Catholics born in Ireland to Protestants born in Britain. His first target was the town of Drogheda north of Dublin which he stormed and captured. Perhaps 2,500 men, mainly in arms, were killed during the storm and several hundred more - all the officers, all Catholic priests and friars, every tenth common soldier - were killed, many clubbed to death. It was in accordance with the laws of war, but it went far beyond what any General had done in England. Cromwell then perpetrated a messier massacre at Wexford. Thereafter most towns surrendered on his approach, and he scrupulously observed surrender articles and spared the lives of soldiers and civilians. It was and is a controversial conquest. But, from the English point of view, it worked. In the summer of 1650, he returned to England and was sent off to Scotland, where Charles II had been proclaimed and crowned as King of Britain and Ireland. In a campaign as unrelenting but less brutal, he wiped out the royal armies and established a military occupation of the lowlands and west that was to last until 1660. In September 1651 he returned to a roman-style triumphant entry in London. One foreign ambassador watching predicted that he would soon he king. He was almost right.

Contribution of Farah Khalil. Thx my perfect flower :)

Marilyn Monroe, UFOs and CIA Spooks

As many people may be aware, the FBI has an extensive surveillance file on dead blond babe, Marilyn Monroe. However, it wasn't just the FBI that was secretly spying on the Hollywood glamor girl.My Celebrity Secrets book includes a discussion of a strange, unofficial document on the actress leaked out of a secret government archive in the mid-1990s - or so the allegations go, at least.Incredibly, the document claims that none other than Marilyn's one-time lover, JFK (also known as the President of the United States - until Lee Harvey Oswald, or the CIA, or the Mafia, or the KGB, or the FBI, or someone blew his head off), had secretly informed the actress of the truth surrounding the notorious "Roswell UFO Crash" that occurred in the deserts of New Mexico in the summer of 1947.It's a weird story, for sure, and allegations that the document is a fraud abound. If true, however, it's further evidence of how and why the official world keeps a close watch on those that immerse themselves in the UFO puzzle.

At the time of her death, some things were going very well for Marilyn Monroe. Although she was unhappy with her treatment at the hand of the Kennedy brothers, we do not believe that that drove her to suicide. That leads to accidental overdose or murder. Accidental overdoses happen all the time, sometimes fatally. While it is certainly possible that Marilyn died as a result of a bad choice mixture of pills and alcohol, her "accidental" death was perhaps too convenient. She was threatening to go public about her involvement with the Kennedy brothers. Then she suddenly dies, and the problem is solved. We believe it is reasonable to conjecture that someone other than Marilyn had a hand in her death. She had threatened to expose rich and powerful figures and may have paid the price with her life.We may never truly know the real answers to the mysterious death of Marilyn Monroe. Considering her beauty and talent, and her long reign at the Queen of Screen Sirens, she certainly deserved a better exit than she got."

Edgar Allan Poe's most famous poem: The Raven

The Raven
by Edgar Allan Poe
First Published in 1845

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door."

'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door;

Only this, and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow

From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore,.

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore,

Nameless here forevermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me---filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,

" 'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door.

This it is, and nothing more."
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

"Sir," said I, "or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

But the fact is, I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you." Here I opened wide the door;

---Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;

But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,Lenore?,

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word,"Lenore!"

Merely this, and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than before,

"Surely," said I, "surely, that is something at my window lattice.

Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore.

Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore.

" 'Tis the wind, and nothing more."
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,

In there stepped a stately raven, of the saintly days of yore.

Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;

But with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door.

Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door,

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven thou," I said, "art sure no craven,

Ghastly, grim, and ancient raven, wandering from the nightly shore.

Tell me what the lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore."

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore;

For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door,

Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,

With such name as "Nevermore."
But the raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered;

Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before;

On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.

"Then the bird said, "Nevermore."
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful disaster

Followed fast and followed faster, till his songs one burden bore,

---Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore

Of "Never---nevermore."
But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;

Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore

--What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore

Meant in croaking "Nevermore."
Thus I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable

the fowl, whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;

This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,

But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er

She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.

"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee -- by these angels he hath

Sent thee respite---respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!

Quaff, O quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!"

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!

Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted--

On this home by horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore:

Is there--is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me I implore!"

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil--prophet still, if bird or devil!By that heaven that bends above us--by that God we both adore--

Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant Aidenn,

It shall clasp a sainted maiden, whom the angels name Lenore---

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name Lenore?

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!"

I shrieked, upstarting--"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken! -- quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming.

And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floorShall be lifted---nevermore!

Contribution by Marwan El Sobky Grade 10 Blue Thank you, your royal highness :)

Baroque music

Baroque music describes an era and a set of styles of European classical music which were in widespread use between approximately 1600 and 1750. This era is said to begin in music after the Renaissance and was followed by the Classical music era. The original meaning of "baroque" is "misshapen pearl", a strikingly fitting characterization of the architecture of this period; later, the name came to be applied also to its music. Baroque music forms a major portion of the classical music canon, being widely studied, performed, and listened to. It is associated with composers such as Claudio Monteverdi, Antonio Vivaldi, George Frederic Handel, and Johann Sebastian Bach. The baroque period saw the development of functional tonality. During the period composers and performers used more elaborate musical ornamentation; made changes in musical notation, and developed new instrumental playing techniques. Baroque music expanded the size, range and complexity of instrumental performance, and also established opera as a musical genre. Many musical terms and concepts from this era are still in use today.


History of European art music
Early
Medieval
(500 – 1400)
Renaissance
(1400 – 1600)
Common practice
Baroque
(1600 – 1760)
Classical
(1730 – 1820)
Romantic
(1815 – 1910)
Modern and contemporary
20th century classical
(1900 – 2000)
Contemporary classical
(1975 – present)

Optical Illusion Competition: Don Quixote

How many old man's faces can you see? Describe what each is doing and its position in the picture.

Contribution by Sherihan Ashraf Grade 10 Green Thank you Sherry :)

Louis was born in Saint-German on September 5 1638, the son of Louis XIII & his wife Anne of Austria. On may 14, 1643 his father died & Louis became a king & he was only 4. The country was governed by his mother till he grows up .Louis was unlike his father, he had an excellent health all his life. The reign of Louis is often equated with the great age of French culture; this age began under Richelieu & was clearly over before Louis died.Louis’s region wasn’t intelligent. At the same time he regarded himself as God’s deputy in France & would allow no challenge to his authority, from the pope or anyone else. As a result he was in a series of unedifying with successive popes. Louis was married to Maria Theresa daughter of Philip IV of Spain. Louis didn’t allow the pursuit of pleasure to interfere with his professional duties. History can see him fairer. He wasn’t the great as he always showed in all his life time. He was a very intelligent man who committed many blunders & several crimes. He did his duty as he saw it. He saw himself responsible to God for the good things that his people did& his personality was often strange. The greatness which France achieved in his lifetime was largely his doing. He died in 1715.

Miguel Cervantes

N.B. Miguel is the Spanish name for Michael.

Centuries ago, people had the most hilarious fashion taste. (thin pointed moustche and ruff round the neck - how they made it stand so stiffly, is beyond me)

I wonder how it will develop by the year 3000? What are we going to wear if we truly live under water like the Jonas Brothers said?

Anyways, why was this Cervantes guys important? Could somebody please jog my memory? lol

Waiting for your comments.

Grade9: Narrative Writing: Picture prompts:i

Imagine you are the cow or the hippo and write a page in your diary recounting the experience you went through as portrayed in the image on the left. (first person narration)

Or you can imagine you are a third entity (voyeur) who just happened to watch the thread of events depicted in the same cartoon strip and write a page in your diary to describe it. (third person narration).

Word count: minimum 200 words

Checklist:

Did I read the rubric carefullly and brainstorm for ideas?

Did I organise my ideas?

Did I didvide my writing into paragraphs, showing the beginnning of each with an indent?

Did I add details describing the setting, the characters and their feelings as well as the development of the events in the plot in an attractive way?

Did I edit my writing checking for spelling, grammar, vocabulary and punctuation mistakes?

Did I add linking words and adjectives to make my work more enjoyable to read?

Did I add a suitable, eye catching title?

Grade 10: World History: Versailles

Wow! The grandeur! The luxury! I'm too breathtaken to comment! Have you seen the celings? i can actually remember i went there when i was a kid; my parents were dragging me by force away from the place in tears; i wanted to linger in every corner for hours: watch the details of the painting on the ceilings, enjoy the reflection of the sunlight glittering on the waters o the fountains... bla bla bla

World 10 History: The Bourbon Family

Some of the smarty smarts in blue an dgreen happened to notice the name "Bourbon " in the first quiz and wondered what on earth that was. (No, no! it doesn't mean bon bon.) It is the surname of Louis XIV's family, in other words Louis' big happy family with the ancestral grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, brothers, sisters, wife, sons ... etc. down the generations and here is a slideshow of them. Aren't they royally cute? lol

Anyways, enjoy, and if anyone can look up the names of all the rulers of France from that family, guess what? 100 marks bonus!

World 10 History: Can anyone translate this?

It's supposed to be a speech by Le Roi Soleil in the French language. I was able to catch a few words but I'm afraid i don't have the time to try and decipher the whole transcript. If anybody is up to that challenge, be my guest and rest assured i will shower you with bonus marks!

Grade 10: World History: Sun King funny one must c

lol i dunnow y this one had me crackin although the animation is slow and the idea is silly but it reminded me of the genie outta the lamp or the jack in the box idea

World 10 History: Louis XIV slideshow ii

Le Roi Soleil (Sun King) from cradle to grave!
N.B i: the symbols: Sun King mask and fleur de lis
N.B ii: the portrait with Louis le grand avec femme et fils (Louis the Great with wife and son)

World 10 History: Louis XIV slideshow i

Obviously, being effeminate was held in high regard among roylaty and nobility in Baroque France. However, there are pictures, showing not only grandeur, but also bravado as he stands next to the beast he supposedly sleighed with his sword!

Grade 10: World History Louis XIV

Very smart, don't you think?What would you do if you had been in the noble class shoes?However, nobody has told me yet what does the water squirting action symbolise? You do know he doesn't really spray them with water, right? Beisdes, how can this ingenius texhnique of Louis XIV compare to the current American and Egyptian governements? Just giving you food for thought, waiting for your comments.

Grade 10: World History: Louis XIV pic

Louis XIV's best pose!

"L'etat, c'est moi!"

"I'm the state and the state is I!"

Behold the Sun King "Le Roi Soleil"/Boy king/"Louis le Grand"Louis the Great, King of France of the 17th/18th century in his grandeur: sceptre, crown, sword in hilt studded with jewels, breeches, silk shirt and ruff and the royal robes embroidered with the fleur de lis.

I have to admit i do fancy the wig, though. lol:)

Grade 9: Literature: The Cask of Amontillado Soundtrack

ATTENTION PLEASE

By the way, in case you have not noticed the main purpose of having a blog is interaction between us and the material we are tackling in class. Therefore, you are more than welcome to leave decent, meaningful comments on the posted material, expressing your opinions and feelings which will definitely automatically gain your team bonus marks and guarantee you as an individual higher quarterly assessment grades!
Looking forward to reading some interesting and juicy comments.

Good Luck!
Thank you!

Fortunato cask of amontillado

The Cask album

The Cask of Amontillado album

The Cask of Amontillado.text

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 definitively 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.
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.
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 skilful in the Italian vintages myself, 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 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.
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."
"How?" said he, "Amontillado? A pipe? Impossible ? And in the middle of the carnival?"
"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."
"Amontillado!"
"I have my doubts."
"Amontillado!"
"And I must satisfy them."
"Amontillado!"
"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" --
"Luchesi 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."
"Whither?"
"To your vaults."
"My friend, no; I will not impose upon your good nature. I perceive you have an engagement Luchesi" --
"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. They are encrusted with nitre."
"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."
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.
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.
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.
The gait of my friend was unsteady, and the bells upon his cap jingled as he strode.
"The pipe," said he.
"It is farther on," said I; "but observe the white webwork which gleams from these cavern walls."
He turned towards me and looked into my eyes with two filmy orbs that distilled the rheum of intoxication .
"Nitre?" he asked, at length
"Nitre," I replied. "How long have you had that cough!"
"Ugh! ugh! ugh! -- ugh! ugh! ugh! -- ugh! ugh! ugh! -- ugh! ugh! ugh! -- ugh! ugh! ugh!
My poor friend found it impossible to reply for many minutes.
"It is nothing," he said, at last.
"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" --
"Enough," he said; "the cough is a mere nothing; it will not kill me. I shall not die of a cough."
"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."
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 said, presenting him the wine.
He raised it to his lips with a leer. 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, are extensive."
"The Montresors," I replied, "were a great 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 imbedded in the heel."
"And the motto?"
"Nemo me impune lacessit."
"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 walls of piled bones, with casks and puncheons intermingling, into the inmost recesses of the catacombs. I paused again, and this time I made bold to seize Fortunato by an arm above the elbow.
"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" --
"It is nothing" he said; "let us go on. But first, another draught of the Medoc."
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.
I looked at him in surprise. He repeated the movement -- a grotesque one.
"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.
"It is this," I answered, producing a trowel from beneath the folds of my roquelaire.
"You jest," he exclaimed, recoiling a few paces. "But let us proceed to the Amontillado."
"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.
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 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 in 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, endeavoured to pry into the depths of the recess. Its termination the feeble light did not enable us to see.
"Proceed," I said; "herein is the Amontillado. As for Luchesi" --
"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.
"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."
"The Amontillado!" ejaculated my friend, not yet recovered from his astonishment.
"True," I replied; "the Amontillado."
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 began vigorously to wall up the entrance of the niche.
I had scarcely laid the first tier of my 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.
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 reechoed -- I aided -- I surpassed them in volume and in strength. I did this, and the clamourer grew still.
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 recognising as that of the noble Fortunato. The voice said --
"Ha! ha! ha! -- he! he! -- a very good joke indeed -- an excellent jest. We will have many a rich laugh about it at the palazzo -- he! he! he! -- over our wine -- he! he! he!"
"The Amontillado!" I said.
"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."
"Yes," I said "let us be gone."
"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, MONTRESOR!"
"Yes," I said, "for the love of God!"
But to these words I hearkened in vain for a reply. I grew impatient. I called aloud --
"Fortunato!"
No answer. I called again --
"Fortunato!"
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 -- 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 reerected the old rampart of bones. For the half of a century no mortal has disturbed them.
In pace requiescat!