The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas (books to read to improve english txt) đ
- Author: Alexandre Dumas
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âThat is to say,â replied Villefort with hesitation, âthat human nature being weak, every man, according to your creed, has committed faults.â
âFaults or crimes,â responded Monte Cristo with a negligent air.
âAnd that you alone, amongst the men whom you do not recognize as your brothersâfor you have said so,â observed Villefort in a tone that faltered somewhatââyou alone are perfect.â
âNo, not perfect,â was the countâs reply; âonly impenetrable, thatâs all. But let us leave off this strain, sir, if the tone of it is displeasing to you; I am no more disturbed by your justice than are you by my second-sight.â
âNo, no,âby no means,â said Villefort, who was afraid of seeming to abandon his ground. âNo; by your brilliant and almost sublime conversation you have elevated me above the ordinary level; we no longer talk, we rise to dissertation. But you know how the theologians in their collegiate chairs, and philosophers in their controversies, occasionally say cruel truths; let us suppose for the moment that we are theologizing in a social way, or even philosophically, and I will say to you, rude as it may seem, âMy brother, you sacrifice greatly to pride; you may be above others, but above you there is God.ââ
âAbove us all, sir,â was Monte Cristoâs response, in a tone and with an emphasis so deep that Villefort involuntarily shuddered. âI have my pride for menâserpents always ready to threaten everyone who would pass without crushing them under foot. But I lay aside that pride before God, who has taken me from nothing to make me what I am.â
âThen, count, I admire you,â said Villefort, who, for the first time in this strange conversation, used the aristocratic form to the unknown personage, whom, until now, he had only called monsieur. âYes, and I say to you, if you are really strong, really superior, really pious, or impenetrable, which you were right in saying amounts to the same thingâthen be proud, sir, for that is the characteristic of predominance. Yet you have unquestionably some ambition.â
âI have, sir.â
âAnd what may it be?â
âI too, as happens to every man once in his life, have been taken by Satan into the highest mountain in the earth, and when there he showed me all the kingdoms of the world, and as he said before, so said he to me, âChild of earth, what wouldst thou have to make thee adore me?â I reflected long, for a gnawing ambition had long preyed upon me, and then I replied, âListen,âI have always heard of Providence, and yet I have never seen him, or anything that resembles him, or which can make me believe that he exists. I wish to be Providence myself, for I feel that the most beautiful, noblest, most sublime thing in the world, is to recompense and punish.â Satan bowed his head, and groaned. âYou mistake,â he said, âProvidence does exist, only you have never seen him, because the child of God is as invisible as the parent. You have seen nothing that resembles him, because he works by secret springs, and moves by hidden ways. All I can do for you is to make you one of the agents of that Providence.â The bargain was concluded. I may sacrifice my soul, but what matters it?â added Monte Cristo. âIf the thing were to do again, I would again do it.â
Villefort looked at Monte Cristo with extreme amazement.
âCount,â he inquired, âhave you any relations?â
âNo, sir, I am alone in the world.â
âSo much the worse.â
âWhy?â asked Monte Cristo.
âBecause then you might witness a spectacle calculated to break down your pride. You say you fear nothing but death?â
âI did not say that I feared it; I only said that death alone could check the execution of my plans.â
âAnd old age?â
âMy end will be achieved before I grow old.â
âAnd madness?â
âI have been nearly mad; and you know the axiom,ânon bis in idem. It is an axiom of criminal law, and, consequently, you understand its full application.â
âSir,â continued Villefort, âthere is something to fear besides death, old age, and madness. For instance, there is apoplexyâthat lightning-stroke which strikes but does not destroy you, and yet which brings everything to an end. You are still yourself as now, and yet you are yourself no longer; you who, like Ariel, verge on the angelic, are but an inert mass, which, like Caliban, verges on the brutal; and this is called in human tongues, as I tell you, neither more nor less than apoplexy. Come, if so you will, count, and continue this conversation at my house, any day you may be willing to see an adversary capable of understanding and anxious to refute you, and I will show you my father, M. Noirtier de Villefort, one of the most fiery Jacobins of the French Revolution; that is to say, he had the most remarkable audacity, seconded by a most powerful organizationâa man who has not, perhaps, like yourself seen all the kingdoms of the earth, but who has helped to overturn one of the greatest; in fact, a man who believed himself, like you, one of the envoys, not of God, but of a supreme being; not of Providence, but of fate. Well, sir, the rupture of a blood-vessel on the lobe of the brain has destroyed all this, not in a day, not in an hour, but in a second. M. Noirtier, who, on the previous night, was the old Jacobin, the old senator, the old Carbonaro, laughing at the guillotine, the cannon, and the daggerâM. Noirtier, playing with revolutionsâM. Noirtier, for whom France was a vast chess-board, from which pawns, rooks, knights, and queens were to disappear, so that the king was checkmatedâM. Noirtier, the redoubtable, was the next morning poor M. Noirtier, the helpless old man, at the tender mercies of the weakest creature in the household, that is, his grandchild, Valentine; a dumb and frozen carcass, in fact, living painlessly on, that time may be given for his frame to decompose without his consciousness of its decay.â
âAlas, sir,â said Monte Cristo âthis spectacle is neither strange to my eye nor my thought. I am something of a physician, and have, like my fellows, sought more than once for the soul in living and in dead matter; yet, like Providence, it has remained invisible to my eyes, although present to my heart. A hundred writers since Socrates, Seneca, St. Augustine, and Gall, have made, in verse and prose, the comparison you have made, and yet I can well understand that a fatherâs sufferings may effect great changes in the mind of a son. I will call on you, sir, since you bid me contemplate, for the advantage of my pride, this terrible spectacle, which must have been so great a source of sorrow to your family.â
âIt would have been so unquestionably, had not God given me so large a compensation. In contrast with the old man, who is dragging his way to the tomb, are two children just entering into lifeâValentine, the daughter by my first wifeâMademoiselle RenĂ©e de Saint-MĂ©ranâand Edward, the boy whose life you have this day saved.â
âAnd what is your deduction from this compensation, sir?â inquired Monte Cristo.
âMy deduction is,â replied Villefort, âthat my father, led away by his passions, has committed some fault unknown to human justice, but marked by the justice of God. That God, desirous in his mercy to punish but one person, has visited this justice on him alone.â
Monte Cristo with a smile on his lips, uttered in the depths of his soul a groan which would have made Villefort fly had he but heard it.
âAdieu, sir,â said the magistrate, who had risen from his seat; âI leave you, bearing a remembrance of youâa remembrance of esteem, which I hope will not be disagreeable to you when you know me better; for I am not a man to bore my friends, as you will learn. Besides, you have made an eternal friend of Madame de Villefort.â
The count bowed, and contented himself with seeing Villefort to the door of his cabinet, the procureur being escorted to his carriage by two footmen, who, on a signal from their master, followed him with every mark of attention. When he had gone, Monte Cristo breathed a profound sigh, and said:
âEnough of this poison, let me now seek the antidote.â
Then sounding his bell, he said to Ali, who entered:
âI am going to madameâs chamberâhave the carriage ready at one oâclock.â
Chapter 49. Haydée
It will be recollected that the new, or rather old, acquaintances of the Count of Monte Cristo, residing in the Rue Meslay, were no other than Maximilian, Julie, and Emmanuel.
The very anticipations of delight to be enjoyed in his forthcoming visitsâthe bright, pure gleam of heavenly happiness it diffused over the almost deadly warfare in which he had voluntarily engaged, illumined his whole countenance with a look of ineffable joy and calmness, as, immediately after Villefortâs departure, his thoughts flew back to the cheering prospect before him, of tasting, at least, a brief respite from the fierce and stormy passions of his mind. Even Ali, who had hastened to obey the Countâs summons, went forth from his masterâs presence in charmed amazement at the unusual animation and pleasure depicted on features ordinarily so stern and cold; while, as though dreading to put to flight the agreeable ideas hovering over his patronâs meditations, whatever they were, the faithful Nubian walked on tiptoe towards the door, holding his breath, lest its faintest sound should dissipate his masterâs happy reverie.
It was noon, and Monte Cristo had set apart one hour to be passed in the apartments of Haydée, as though his oppressed spirit could not all at once admit the feeling of pure and unmixed joy, but required a gradual succession of calm and gentle emotions to prepare his mind to receive full and perfect happiness, in the same manner as ordinary natures demand to be inured by degrees to the reception of strong or violent sensations.
The young Greek, as we have already said, occupied apartments wholly unconnected with those of the count. The rooms had been fitted up in strict accordance with Oriental ideas; the floors were covered with the richest carpets Turkey could produce; the walls hung with brocaded silk of the most magnificent designs and texture; while around each chamber luxurious divans were placed, with piles of soft and yielding cushions, that needed only to be arranged at the pleasure or convenience of such as sought repose.
HaydĂ©e had three French maids, and one who was a Greek. The first three remained constantly in a small waiting-room, ready to obey the summons of a small golden bell, or to receive the orders of the Romaic slave, who knew just enough French to be able to transmit her mistressâs wishes to the three other waiting-women; the latter had received most peremptory instructions from Monte Cristo to treat HaydĂ©e with all the deference they would observe to a queen.
The young girl herself generally passed her time in the chamber at the farther end of her apartments. This was a sort of boudoir, circular, and lighted only from the roof, which consisted of rose-colored glass. Haydée was reclining upon soft downy cushions, covered with blue satin spotted with silver; her head, supported by one of her exquisitely moulded arms, rested on the divan immediately behind her, while the other was employed in adjusting to her lips the coral tube of a rich
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