The Count of Monte Cristo

by Alexandre Dumas

Decidedly man is an ungrateful and egotistical animal.

"on the steps of the scaffold death tears off the mask that has been worn through life, and the real visage is disclosed.

"I am not speaking," said the duke with a smile, "of the persons who are here; the men run no other danger than that of falling in love with you, and the women of falling ill of jealousy at seeing you so lovely;

"These papers become more and more stupid every day."

"Monte Cristo is a little island I have often heard spoken of by the old sailors my father employed—a grain of sand in the centre of the Mediterranean, an atom in the infinite."

"Wild eyes, the iris of which contracts or dilates at pleasure," said Debray; "facial angle strongly developed, magnificent forehead, livid complexion, black beard, sharp and white teeth, politeness unexceptionable."

"No, monsieur," returned Monte Cristo "upon the simple condition that they should respect myself and my friends. Perhaps what I am about to say may seem strange to you, who are socialists, and vaunt humanity and your duty to your neighbor, but I never seek to protect a society which does not protect me, and which I will even say, generally occupies itself about me only to injure me; and thus by giving them a low place in my esteem, and preserving a neutrality towards them, it is society and my neighbor who are indebted to me."

"I am very glad to tell you, that while you gesticulate, you wring your hands and roll your eyes like a man possessed by a devil who will not leave him; and I have always observed, that the devil most obstinate to be expelled is a secret.

'Well,' replied he, 'he has smitten with the sword, and he has perished by the sword.'—'You

although I had not seen Villefort's face, I recognized him by the beating of my heart.

I rushed on him and plunged my knife into his breast, exclaiming,—'I am Giovanni Bertuccio; thy death for my brother's; thy treasure for his widow; thou seest that my vengeance is more complete than I had hoped.' I know not if he heard these words; I think he did

"Ah," said Monte Cristo "it seems to me this was nothing but murder and robbery." "No, your excellency," returned Bertuccio; "it was a vendetta followed by restitution."

In reality, when you have once devoted your life to your enterprises, you are no longer the equal of other men, or, rather, other men are no longer your equals, and whosoever has taken this resolution, feels his strength and resources doubled."

He was a most lovely child, with large blue eyes, of that deep color that harmonizes so well with the blond complexion; only his hair, which was too light, gave his face a most singular expression, and added to the vivacity of his look, and the malice of his smile.

"'Are you mad, uncle?' (he called me by this name when he was in good humor); 'do you think I am going to change the life I lead for your mode of existence—my agreeable indolence for the hard and precarious toil you impose on yourself, exposed to the bitter frost at night, and the scorching heat by day, compelled to conceal yourself, and when you are perceived, receive a volley of bullets, all to earn a paltry sum? Why, I have as much money as I want; mother Assunta always furnishes me when I ask for it! You see that I should be a fool to accept your offer.' The arguments, and his audacity, perfectly stupefied me. Benedetto rejoined his associates, and I saw him from a distance point me out to them as a fool."

pair of small pistols, loaded to the muzzle. 'Here,' said he, 'are dogs who bark and bite at the same time, they are for the two first who shall have a longing for your diamond, Friend Caderousse.'

"Do not think so, Bertuccio," replied the count; "for the wicked are not so easily disposed of, for God seems to have them under his special watch-care to make of them instruments of his vengeance."

For all evils there are two remedies—time and silence.

But so it is; a woman will often, from mere wilfulness, prefer that which is dangerous to that which is safe. Therefore, in my opinion, my dear baron, the best and easiest way is to leave them to their fancies, and allow them to act as they please, and then, if any mischief follows, why, at least, they have no one to blame but themselves.

Ali drew himself up proudly, and then returned a sign in the affirmative.

since those who have never experienced a political check are generally so regarded; hated by many, but warmly supported by others, without being really liked by anybody,

My kingdom is bounded only by the world, for I am not an Italian, or a Frenchman, or a Hindu, or an American, or a Spaniard—I am a cosmopolite. No country can say it saw my birth. God alone knows what country will see me die.

alone are perfect." "No, not perfect," was the count's reply; "only impenetrable,

"Do you remember your father, Haidee?" The young Greek smiled. "He is here, and here," said she, touching her eyes and her heart. "And where am I?" inquired Monte Cristo laughingly.

the tree forsakes not the flower—the flower falls from the tree."

"Youth is a flower of which love is the fruit; happy is he who, after having watched its silent growth, is permitted to gather and call it his own."

"the secret dramas of the East begin with a love philtre and end with a death potion—begin with paradise and end with—hell.

"Ah, but madame, does mankind ever lose anything? The arts change about and make a tour of the world; things take a different name, and the vulgar do not follow them—that is all; but there is always the same result.

"Oh, things take their course without our assistance. While we are forgetting them, they are falling into their appointed order; and when, again, our attention is directed to them, we are surprised at the progress they have made towards the proposed end.

The bottle was covered with spiders' webs, and all the other signs which indicate the age of wine more truly than do wrinkles on a man's face.

"Why, it does not much concern us, do you think it does?" "No; I agree with you there. We must play the game to the end, and consent to be blindfolded."

"Listen, Valentine. Have you never experienced for any one that sudden and irresistible sympathy which made you feel as if the object of it had been your old and familiar friend, though, in reality, it was the first time you had ever met? Nay, further, have you never endeavored to recall the time, place, and circumstances of your former intercourse, and failing in this attempt, have almost believed that your spirits must have held converse with each other in some state of being anterior to the present, and that you are only now occupied in a reminiscence of the past?"

the look by which he gave expression to his inner life was like the distant gleam of a candle which a traveller sees by night across some desert place, and knows that a living being dwells beyond the silence and obscurity.

"But to do this he must have spoken?" "He has done better than that—he has made himself understood."

The name of father is sacred in two senses; he should be reverenced as the author of our being and as a master whom we ought to obey.

Oh, no; I should find there people who would force me to understand things of which I would prefer to remain ignorant, and who would try to explain to me, in spite of myself, a mystery which even they do not understand.

"I have been told," said the count, "that you do not always yourselves understand the signals you repeat." "That is true, sir, and that is what I like best," said the man, smiling. "Why do you like that best?" "Because then I have no responsibility. I am a machine then, and nothing else, and so long as I work, nothing more is required of me."

"You live badly on your thousand francs?" "Badly enough; but yet I do live."

"I have just discovered how a gardener may get rid of the dormice that eat his peaches."

cannot risk this, even to gratify a pretty woman, which is, in my opinion, one of the most sacred obligations in the world."

"Why not? I am fond of grass and shade," said Monte Cristo.

"Can we account for instinct?" said Monte Cristo. "Are there not some places where we seem to breathe sadness?—why, we cannot tell. It is a chain of recollections—an idea which carries you back to other times, to other places—which, very likely, have no connection with the present time and place.

Between people like us threats are out of place, everything should be amicably arranged. Is it my fault if fortune, which has frowned on you, has been kind to me?"

"It is extraordinary," he said, when the door was closed behind him, "how easily these husbands, whom we ridicule, gain an advantage over us."

"It is true, then," he said, rather uttering his thoughts aloud than addressing his companion,—"it is true, then, that all our actions leave their traces—some sad, others bright—on our paths; it is true that every step in our lives is like the course of an insect on the sands;—it leaves its track! Alas, to many the path is traced by tears."

your misfortunes are generally imposed upon you, and your faults the results of others' crimes.

"How has this terrible past been recalled?" cried Villefort; "how is it that it has escaped from the depths of the tomb and the recesses of our hearts, where it was buried, to visit us now, like a phantom, whitening our cheeks and flushing our brows with shame?"

"Oh, the wickedness of man is very great," said Villefort, "since it surpasses the goodness of God.

Do you keep a journal?" "No, my life has been passed in frivolity; I wish to forget it myself."

"You are difficult to please, viscount." "Yes, for I often wish for what is impossible."