基督山伯爵 英文版 The Count of Monte Cristo
大仲马 Alexandre Dumas père
Chapter 40 Page 2
"My dear count," replied Albert, "I was announcing yourvisit to some of my friends, whom I had invited inconsequence of the promise you did me the honor to make, andwhom I now present to you. They are the Count ofChateau-Renaud, whose nobility goes back to the twelvepeers, and whose ancestors had a place at the Round Table;M. Lucien Debray, private secretary to the minister of theinterior; M. Beauchamp, an editor of a paper, and the terrorof the French government, but of whom, in spite of hisnational celebrity, you perhaps have not heard in Italy,since his paper is prohibited there; and M. MaximilianMorrel, captain of Spahis."
At this name the count, who had hitherto saluted every onewith courtesy, but at the same time with coldness andformality, stepped a pace forward, and a slight tinge of redcolored his pale cheeks. "You wear the uniform of the newFrench conquerors, monsieur," said he; "it is a handsomeuniform." No one could have said what caused the count'svoice to vibrate so deeply, and what made his eye flash,which was in general so clear, lustrous, and limpid when hepleased. "You have never seen our Africans, count?" saidAlbert. "Never," replied the count, who was by this timeperfectly master of himself again.
"Well, beneath this uniform beats one of the bravest andnoblest hearts in the whole army."
"Oh, M. de Morcerf," interrupted Morrel.
"Let me go on, captain. And we have just heard," continuedAlbert, "of a new deed of his, and so heroic a one, that,although I have seen him to-day for the first time, Irequest you to allow me to introduce him as my friend." Atthese words it was still possible to observe in Monte Cristothe concentrated look, changing color, and slight tremblingof the eyelid that show emotion. "Ah, you have a nobleheart," said the count; "so much the better." Thisexclamation, which corresponded to the count's own thoughtrather than to what Albert was saying, surprised everybody,and especially Morrel, who looked at Monte Cristo withwonder. But, at the same time, the intonation was so softthat, however strange the speech might seem, it wasimpossible to be offended at it. "Why should he doubt it?"said Beauchamp to Chateau-Renaud.
"In reality," replied the latter, who, with his aristocraticglance and his knowledge of the world, had penetrated atonce all that was penetrable in Monte Cristo, "Albert hasnot deceived us, for the count is a most singular being.What say you, Morrel!"
"Ma foi, he has an open look about him that pleases me, inspite of the singular remark he has made about me."
"Gentlemen," said Albert, "Germain informs me that breakfastis ready. My dear count, allow me to show you the way." Theypassed silently into the breakfast-room, and every one tookhis place. "Gentlemen," said the count, seating himself,"permit me to make a confession which must form my excusefor any improprieties I may commit. I am a stranger, and astranger to such a degree, that this is the first time Ihave ever been at Paris. The French way of living is utterlyunknown to me, and up to the present time I have followedthe Eastern customs, which are entirely in contrast to theParisian. I beg you, therefore, to excuse if you findanything in me too Turkish, too Italian, or too Arabian.Now, then, let us breakfast."
"With what an air he says all this," muttered Beauchamp;"decidedly he is a great man."
"A great man in his own country," added Debray.
"A great man in every country, M. Debray," saidChateau-Renaud. The count was, it may be remembered, a mosttemperate guest. Albert remarked this, expressing his fearslest, at the outset, the Parisian mode of life shoulddisplease the traveller in the most essential point. "Mydear count," said he, "I fear one thing, and that is, thatthe fare of the Rue du Helder is not so much to your tasteas that of the Piazza di Spagni. I ought to have consultedyou on the point, and have had some dishes preparedexpressly."
"Did you know me better," returned the count, smiling, "youwould not give one thought of such a thing for a travellerlike myself, who has successively lived on maccaroni atNaples, polenta at Milan, olla podrida at Valencia, pilau atConstantinople, karrick in India, and swallows' nests inChina. I eat everywhere, and of everything, only I eat butlittle; and to-day, that you reproach me with my want ofappetite, is my day of appetite, for I have not eaten sinceyesterday morning."
"What," cried all the guests, "you have not eaten for fourand twenty hours?"
"No," replied the count; "I was forced to go out of my roadto obtain some information near Nimes, so that I wassomewhat late, and therefore I did not choose to stop."
"And you ate in your carriage?" asked Morcerf.
"No, I slept, as I generally do when I am weary withouthaving the courage to amuse myself, or when I am hungrywithout feeling inclined to eat."
"But you can sleep when you please, monsieur?" said Morrel.
"Yes."
"You have a recipe for it?"
"An infallible one."
"That would be invaluable to us in Africa, who have notalways any food to eat, and rarely anything to drink."
"Yes," said Monte Cristo; "but, unfortunately, a recipeexcellent for a man like myself would be very dangerousapplied to an army, which might not awake when it wasneeded."
"May we inquire what is this recipe?" asked Debray.
"Oh, yes," returned Monte Cristo; "I make no secret of it.It is a mixture of excellent opium, which I fetched myselffrom Canton in order to have it pure, and the best hashishwhich grows in the East -- that is, between the Tigris andthe Euphrates. These two ingredients are mixed in equalproportions, and formed into pills. Ten minutes after one istaken, the effect is produced. Ask Baron Franz d'Epinay; Ithink he tasted them one day."
"Yes," replied Morcerf, "he said something about it to me."
"But," said Beauchamp, who, as became a journalist, was veryincredulous, "you always carry this drug about you?"
"Always."
"Would it be an indiscretion to ask to see those preciouspills?" continued Beauchamp, hoping to take him at adisadvantage.
"No, monsieur," returned the count; and he drew from hispocket a marvellous casket, formed out of a single emeraldand closed by a golden lid which unscrewed and gave passageto a small greenish colored pellet about the size of a pea.This ball had an acrid and penetrating odor. There were fouror five more in the emerald, which would contain about adozen. The casket passed around the table, but it was moreto examine the admirable emerald than to see the pills thatit passed from hand to hand. "And is it your cook whoprepares these pills?" asked Beauchamp.
"Oh, no, monsieur," replied Monte Cristo; "I do not thusbetray my enjoyments to the vulgar. I am a tolerablechemist, and prepare my pills myself."
"This is a magnificent emerald, and the largest I have everseen," said Chateau-Renaud, "although my mother has someremarkable family jewels."
"I had three similar ones," returned Monte Cristo. "I gaveone to the Sultan, who mounted it in his sabre; another toour holy father the Pope, who had it set in his tiara,opposite to one nearly as large, though not so fine, givenby the Emperor Napoleon to his predecessor, Pius VII. I keptthe third for myself, and I had it hollowed out, whichreduced its value, but rendered it more commodious for thepurpose I intended." Every one looked at Monte Cristo withastonishment; he spoke with so much simplicity that it wasevident he spoke the truth, or that he was mad. However, thesight of the emerald made them naturally incline to theformer belief. "And what did these two sovereigns give youin exchange for these magnificent presents?" asked Debray.
"The Sultan, the liberty of a woman," replied the Count;"the Pope, the life of a man; so that once in my life I havebeen as powerful as if heaven had brought me into the worldon the steps of a throne."
"And it was Peppino you saved, was it not?" cried Morcerf;"it was for him that you obtained pardon?"
recipe for it?"recipe for it?"promised !
"Perhaps," returned the count, smiling.
"My dear count, you have no idea what pleasure it gives meto hear you speak thus," said Morcerf. "I had announced youbeforehand to my friends as an enchanter of the `ArabianNights,' a wizard of the Middle Ages; but the Parisians areso subtle in paradoxes that they mistake for caprices of theimagination the most incontestable truths, when these truthsdo not form a part of their daily existence. For example,here is Debray who reads, and Beauchamp who prints, everyday, `A member of the Jockey Club has been stopped androbbed on the Boulevard;' `four persons have beenassassinated in the Rue St. Denis' or `the Faubourg St.Germain;' `ten, fifteen, or twenty thieves, have beenarrested in a cafe on the Boulevard du Temple, or in theThermes de Julien,' -- and yet these same men deny theexistence of the bandits in the Maremma, the Campagna diRomana, or the Pontine Marshes. Tell them yourself that Iwas taken by bandits, and that without your generousintercession I should now have been sleeping in theCatacombs of St. Sebastian, instead of receiving them in myhumble abode in the Rue du Helder."
"Ah," said Monte Cristo "you promised me never to mentionthat circumstance."
"It was not I who made that promise," cried Morcerf; "itmust have been some one else whom you have rescued in thesame manner, and whom you have forgotten. Pray speak of it,for I shall not only, I trust, relate the little I do know,but also a great deal I do not know."
"It seems to me," returned the count, smiling, "that youplayed a sufficiently important part to know as well asmyself what happened."
"Well, you promise me, if I tell all I know, to relate, inyour turn, all that I do not know?"
"That is but fair," replied Monte Cristo.
"Well," said Morcerf, "for three days I believed myself theobject of the attentions of a masque, whom I took for adescendant of Tullia or Poppoea, while I was simply theobject of the attentions of a contadina, and I say contadinato avoid saying peasant girl. What I know is, that, like afool, a greater fool than he of whom I spoke just now, Imistook for this peasant girl a young bandit of fifteen orsixteen, with a beardless chin and slim waist, and who, justas I was about to imprint a chaste salute on his lips,placed a pistol to my head, and, aided by seven or eightothers, led, or rather dragged me, to the Catacombs of St.Sebastian, where I found a highly educated brigand chiefperusing Caesar's `Commentaries,' and who deigned to leaveoff reading to inform me, that unless the next morning,before six o'clock, four thousand piastres were paid intohis account at his banker's, at a quarter past six I shouldhave ceased to exist. The letter is still to be seen, for itis in Franz d'Epinay's possession, signed by me, and with apostscript of M. Luigi Vampa. This is all I know, but I knownot, count, how you contrived to inspire so much respect inthe bandits of Rome who ordinarily have so little respectfor anything. I assure you, Franz and I were lost inadmiration."
"Nothing more simple," returned the count. "I had known thefamous Vampa for more than ten years. When he was quite achild, and only a shepherd, I gave him a few gold pieces forshowing me my way, and he, in order to repay me, gave me aponiard, the hilt of which he had carved with his own hand,and which you may have seen in my collection of arms. Inafter years, whether he had forgotten this interchange ofpresents, which ought to have cemented our friendship, orwhether he did not recollect me, he sought to take me, but,on the contrary, it was I who captured him and a dozen ofhis band. I might have handed him over to Roman justice,which is somewhat expeditious, and which would have beenparticularly so with him; but I did nothing of the sort -- Isuffered him and his band to depart."
"With the condition that they should sin no more," saidBeauchamp, laughing. "I see they kept their promise."
"No, monsieur," returned Monte Cristo "upon the simplecondition that they should respect myself and my friends.Perhaps what I am about to say may seem strange to you, whoare socialists, and vaunt humanity and your duty to yourneighbor, but I never seek to protect a society which doesnot protect me, and which I will even say, generallyoccupies itself about me only to injure me; and thus bygiving them a low place in my esteem, and preserving aneutrality towards them, it is society and my neighbor whoare indebted to me."
"Bravo," cried Chateau-Renaud; "you are the first man I evermet sufficiently courageous to preach egotism. Bravo, count,bravo!"
"It is frank, at least," said Morrel. "But I am sure thatthe count does not regret having once deviated from theprinciples he has so boldly avowed."
"How have I deviated from those principles, monsieur?" askedMonte Cristo, who could not help looking at Morrel with somuch intensity, that two or three times the young man hadbeen unable to sustain that clear and piercing glance.
"Why, it seems to me," replied Morrel, "that in deliveringM. de Morcerf, whom you did not know, you did good to yourneighbor and to society."
"Of which he is the brightest ornament," said Beauchamp,drinking off a glass of champagne.
"My dear count," cried Morcerf, "you are at fault -- you,one of the most formidable logicians I know -- and you mustsee it clearly proved that instead of being an egotist, youare a philanthropist. Ah, you call yourself Oriental, aLevantine, Maltese, Indian, Chinese; your family name isMonte Cristo; Sinbad the Sailor is your baptismalappellation, and yet the first day you set foot in Paris youinstinctively display the greatest virtue, or rather thechief defect, of us eccentric Parisians, -- that is, youassume the vices you have not, and conceal the virtues youpossess."
"My dear vicomte," returned Monte Cristo, "I do not see, inall I have done, anything that merits, either from you orthese gentlemen, the pretended eulogies I have received. Youwere no stranger to me, for I knew you from the time I gaveup two rooms to you, invited you to breakfast with me, lentyou one of my carriages, witnessed the Carnival in yourcompany, and saw with you from a window in the Piazza delPopolo the execution that affected you so much that younearly fainted. I will appeal to any of these gentlemen,could I leave my guest in the hands of a hideous bandit, asyou term him? Besides, you know, I had the idea that youcould introduce me into some of the Paris salons when I cameto France. You might some time ago have looked upon thisresolution as a vague project, but to-day you see it was areality, and you must submit to it under penalty of breakingyour word."
"I will keep it," returned Morcerf; "but I fear that youwill be much disappointed, accustomed as you are topicturesque events and fantastic horizons. Amongst us youwill not meet with any of those episodes with which youradventurous existence has so familiarized you; ourChimborazo is Mortmartre, our Himalaya is Mount Valerien,our Great Desert is the plain of Grenelle, where they arenow boring an artesian well to water the caravans. We haveplenty of thieves, though not so many as is said; but thesethieves stand in far more dread of a policeman than a lord.France is so prosaic, and Paris so civilized a city, thatyou will not find in its eighty-five departments -- I sayeighty-five, because I do not include Corsica -- you willnot find, then, in these eighty-five departments a singlehill on which there is not a telegraph, or a grotto in whichthe commissary of police has not put up a gaslamp. There isbut one service I can render you, and for that I placemyself entirely at your orders, that is, to present, or makemy friends present, you everywhere; besides, you have noneed of any one to introduce you -- with your name, and yourfortune, and your talent" (Monte Cristo bowed with asomewhat ironical smile) "you can present yourselfeverywhere, and be well received. I can be useful in one wayonly -- if knowledge of Parisian habits, of the means ofrendering yourself comfortable, or of the bazaars, canassist, you may depend upon me to find you a fittingdwelling here. I do not dare offer to share my apartmentswith you, as I shared yours at Rome -- I, who do not professegotism, but am yet egotist par excellence; for, exceptmyself, these rooms would not hold a shadow more, unlessthat shadow were feminine."
"Ah," said the count, "that is a most conjugal reservation;I recollect that at Rome you said something of a projectedmarriage. May I congratulate you?"
"The affair is still in projection."
"And he who says in `projection,' means already decided,"said Debray.
"No," replied Morcerf, "my father is most anxious about it;and I hope, ere long, to introduce you, if not to my wife,at least to my betrothed -- Mademoiselle Eugenie Danglars."
"Eugenie Danglars," said Monte Cristo; "tell me, is not herfather Baron Danglars?"
"Yes," returned Morcerf, "a baron of a new creation."
"What matter," said Monte Cristo "if he has rendered theState services which merit this distinction?"
"Enormous ones," answered Beauchamp. "Although in reality aLiberal, he negotiated a loan of six millions for CharlesX., in 1829, who made him a baron and chevalier of theLegion of Honor; so that he wears the ribbon, not, as youwould think, in his waistcoat-pocket, but at hisbutton-hole."
"Ah," interrupted Morcerf, laughing, "Beauchamp, Beauchamp,keep that for the Corsaire or the Charivari, but spare myfuture father-in-law before me." Then, turning to MonteCristo, "You just now spoke his name as if you knew thebaron?"
"I do not know him," returned Monte Cristo; "but I shallprobably soon make his acquaintance, for I have a creditopened with him by the house of Richard & Blount, of London,Arstein & Eskeles of Vienna, and Thomson & French at Rome."As he pronounced the two last names, the count glanced atMaximilian Morrel. If the stranger expected to produce aneffect on Morrel, he was not mistaken -- Maximilian startedas if he had been electrified. "Thomson & French," said he;"do you know this house, monsieur?"
"They are my bankers in the capital of the Christian world,"returned the count quietly. "Can my influence with them beof any service to you?"
"Oh, count, you could assist me perhaps in researches whichhave been, up to the present, fruitless. This house, in pastyears, did ours a great service, and has, I know not forwhat reason, always denied having rendered us this service."
"I shall be at your orders," said Monte Cristo bowing.
"But," continued Morcerf, "a propos of Danglars, -- we havestrangely wandered from the subject. We were speaking of asuitable habitation for the Count of Monte Cristo. Come,gentlemen, let us all propose some place. Where shall welodge this new guest in our great capital?"
"Faubourg Saint-Germain," said Chateau-Renaud. "The countwill find there a charming hotel, with a court and garden."
"Bah, Chateau-Renaud," returned Debray, "you only know yourdull and gloomy Faubourg Saint-Germain; do not pay anyattention to him, count -- live in the Chaussee d'Antin,that's the real centre of Paris."