The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas (books to read to improve english txt) đ
- Author: Alexandre Dumas
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Morrel rushed forward to tear it from him, but Monte Cristo perceiving his intention, seized his wrist with his iron grasp.
âYou wish to destroy yourself,â said the count; âyou have written it.â
âWell,â said Morrel, changing his expression of calmness for one of violenceââwell, and if I do intend to turn this pistol against myself, who shall prevent meâwho will dare prevent me? All my hopes are blighted, my heart is broken, my life a burden, everything around me is sad and mournful; earth has become distasteful to me, and human voices distract me. It is a mercy to let me die, for if I live I shall lose my reason and become mad. When, sir, I tell you all this with tears of heartfelt anguish, can you reply that I am wrong, can you prevent my putting an end to my miserable existence? Tell me, sir, could you have the courage to do so?â
âYes, Morrel,â said Monte Cristo, with a calmness which contrasted strangely with the young manâs excitement; âyes, I would do so.â
âYou?â exclaimed Morrel, with increasing anger and reproachââyou, who have deceived me with false hopes, who have cheered and soothed me with vain promises, when I might, if not have saved her, at least have seen her die in my arms! You, who pretend to understand everything, even the hidden sources of knowledge,âand who enact the part of a guardian angel upon earth, and could not even find an antidote to a poison administered to a young girl! Ah, sir, indeed you would inspire me with pity, were you not hateful in my eyes.â
âMorrelâââ
âYes; you tell me to lay aside the mask, and I will do so, be satisfied! When you spoke to me at the cemetery, I answered youâmy heart was softened; when you arrived here, I allowed you to enter. But since you abuse my confidence, since you have devised a new torture after I thought I had exhausted them all, then, Count of Monte Cristo my pretended benefactorâthen, Count of Monte Cristo, the universal guardian, be satisfied, you shall witness the death of your friend;â and Morrel, with a maniacal laugh, again rushed towards the pistols.
âAnd I again repeat, you shall not commit suicide.â
âPrevent me, then!â replied Morrel, with another struggle, which, like the first, failed in releasing him from the countâs iron grasp.
âI will prevent you.â
âAnd who are you, then, that arrogate to yourself this tyrannical right over free and rational beings?â
âWho am I?â repeated Monte Cristo. âListen; I am the only man in the world having the right to say to you, âMorrel, your fatherâs son shall not die today;ââ and Monte Cristo, with an expression of majesty and sublimity, advanced with arms folded toward the young man, who, involuntarily overcome by the commanding manner of this man, recoiled a step.
âWhy do you mention my father?â stammered he; âwhy do you mingle a recollection of him with the affairs of today?â
âBecause I am he who saved your fatherâs life when he wished to destroy himself, as you do todayâbecause I am the man who sent the purse to your young sister, and the Pharaon to old Morrelâbecause I am the Edmond DantĂšs who nursed you, a child, on my knees.â
Morrel made another step back, staggering, breathless, crushed; then all his strength give way, and he fell prostrate at the feet of Monte Cristo. Then his admirable nature underwent a complete and sudden revulsion; he arose, rushed out of the room and to the stairs, exclaiming energetically, âJulie, JulieâEmmanuel, Emmanuel!â
Monte Cristo endeavored also to leave, but Maximilian would have died rather than relax his hold of the handle of the door, which he closed upon the count. Julie, Emmanuel, and some of the servants, ran up in alarm on hearing the cries of Maximilian. Morrel seized their hands, and opening the door exclaimed in a voice choked with sobs:
âOn your kneesâon your kneesâhe is our benefactorâthe saviour of our father! He isâââ
He would have added âEdmond DantĂšs,â but the count seized his arm and prevented him.
Julie threw herself into the arms of the count; Emmanuel embraced him as a guardian angel; Morrel again fell on his knees, and struck the ground with his forehead. Then the iron-hearted man felt his heart swell in his breast; a flame seemed to rush from his throat to his eyes, he bent his head and wept. For a while nothing was heard in the room but a succession of sobs, while the incense from their grateful hearts mounted to heaven. Julie had scarcely recovered from her deep emotion when she rushed out of the room, descended to the next floor, ran into the drawing-room with childlike joy and raised the crystal globe which covered the purse given by the unknown of the Allées de Meilhan. Meanwhile, Emmanuel in a broken voice said to the count:
âOh, count, how could you, hearing us so often speak of our unknown benefactor, seeing us pay such homage of gratitude and adoration to his memory,âhow could you continue so long without discovering yourself to us? Oh, it was cruel to us, andâdare I say it?âto you also.â
âListen, my friends,â said the countââI may call you so since we have really been friends for the last eleven yearsâthe discovery of this secret has been occasioned by a great event which you must never know. I wished to bury it during my whole life in my own bosom, but your brother Maximilian wrested it from me by a violence he repents of now, I am sure.â
Then turning around, and seeing that Morrel, still on his knees, had thrown himself into an armchair, he added in a low voice, pressing Emmanuelâs hand significantly, âWatch over him.â
âWhy so?â asked the young man, surprised.
âI cannot explain myself; but watch over him.â Emmanuel looked around the room and caught sight of the pistols; his eyes rested on the weapons, and he pointed to them. Monte Cristo bent his head. Emmanuel went towards the pistols.
âLeave them,â said Monte Cristo. Then walking towards Morrel, he took his hand; the tumultuous agitation of the young man was succeeded by a profound stupor. Julie returned, holding the silken purse in her hands, while tears of joy rolled down her cheeks, like dewdrops on the rose.
âHere is the relic,â she said; âdo not think it will be less dear to us now we are acquainted with our benefactor!â
âMy child,â said Monte Cristo, coloring, âallow me to take back that purse? Since you now know my face, I wish to be remembered alone through the affection I hope you will grant me.
âOh,â said Julie, pressing the purse to her heart, âno, no, I beseech you do not take it, for some unhappy day you will leave us, will you not?â
âYou have guessed rightly, madame,â replied Monte Cristo, smiling; âin a week I shall have left this country, where so many persons who merit the vengeance of Heaven lived happily, while my father perished of hunger and grief.â
While announcing his departure, the count fixed his eyes on Morrel, and remarked that the words, âI shall have left this country,â had failed to rouse him from his lethargy. He then saw that he must make another struggle against the grief of his friend, and taking the hands of Emmanuel and Julie, which he pressed within his own, he said with the mild authority of a father:
âMy kind friends, leave me alone with Maximilian.â
Julie saw the means offered of carrying off her precious relic, which Monte Cristo had forgotten. She drew her husband to the door. âLet us leave them,â she said.
The count was alone with Morrel, who remained motionless as a statue.
âCome,â said Monte-Cristo, touching his shoulder with his finger, âare you a man again, Maximilian?â
âYes; for I begin to suffer again.â
The count frowned, apparently in gloomy hesitation.
âMaximilian, Maximilian,â he said, âthe ideas you yield to are unworthy of a Christian.â
âOh, do not fear, my friend,â said Morrel, raising his head, and smiling with a sweet expression on the count; âI shall no longer attempt my life.â
âThen we are to have no more pistolsâno more despair?â
âNo; I have found a better remedy for my grief than either a bullet or a knife.â
âPoor fellow, what is it?â
âMy grief will kill me of itself.â
âMy friend,â said Monte Cristo, with an expression of melancholy equal to his own, âlisten to me. One day, in a moment of despair like yours, since it led to a similar resolution, I also wished to kill myself; one day your father, equally desperate, wished to kill himself too. If anyone had said to your father, at the moment he raised the pistol to his headâif anyone had told me, when in my prison I pushed back the food I had not tasted for three daysâif anyone had said to either of us then, âLiveâthe day will come when you will be happy, and will bless life!ââno matter whose voice had spoken, we should have heard him with the smile of doubt, or the anguish of incredulity,âand yet how many times has your father blessed life while embracing youâhow often have I myselfâââ
âAh,â exclaimed Morrel, interrupting the count, âyou had only lost your liberty, my father had only lost his fortune, but I have lost Valentine.â
âLook at me,â said Monte Cristo, with that expression which sometimes made him so eloquent and persuasiveââlook at me. There are no tears in my eyes, nor is there fever in my veins, yet I see you sufferâyou, Maximilian, whom I love as my own son. Well, does not this tell you that in grief, as in life, there is always something to look forward to beyond? Now, if I entreat, if I order you to live, Morrel, it is in the conviction that one day you will thank me for having preserved your life.â
âOh, heavens,â said the young man, âoh, heavensâwhat are you saying, count? Take care. But perhaps you have never loved!â
âChild!â replied the count.
âI mean, as I love. You see, I have been a soldier ever since I attained manhood. I reached the age of twenty-nine without loving, for none of the feelings I before then experienced merit the appellation of love. Well, at twenty-nine I saw Valentine; for two years I have loved her, for two years I have seen written in her heart, as in a book, all the virtues of a daughter and wife. Count, to possess Valentine would have been a happiness too infinite, too ecstatic, too complete, too divine for this world, since it has been denied me; but without Valentine the earth is desolate.â
âI have told you to hope,â said the count.
âThen have a care, I repeat, for you seek to persuade me, and if you succeed I should lose my reason, for I should hope that I could again behold Valentine.â
The count smiled.
âMy friend, my father,â said Morrel with excitement, âhave a care, I again repeat, for the power you wield over me alarms me. Weigh your words before you speak, for my eyes have already become brighter, and my heart beats strongly; be cautious, or you will make me believe in supernatural agencies. I must obey you, though you bade me call forth the dead or walk upon the water.â
âHope, my friend,â repeated the count.
âAh,â said Morrel, falling from the height of excitement to the abyss of despairââah, you are playing with me, like those good, or rather selfish mothers who soothe their children with honeyed words, because their screams annoy them. No, my friend, I was wrong to caution you; do not fear, I will bury my grief so deep in my heart, I will disguise it so, that you shall not even care to sympathize with me. Adieu, my friend, adieu!â
âOn the contrary,â said the count, âafter this time you must live with meâyou must
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