Reading Help The Count of Monte Cristo Ch.40-74
you." `
` `
` "I must try and persuade M. Danglars to invite him to a ball `
` or dinner, or something of the sort, that he may be `
` compelled to ask us in return." `
` `
` "What," said Debray, laughing; "do you really mean you would `
` go to his house?" `
` `
` "Why not? my husband could accompany me." `
` `
` "But do you know this mysterious count is a bachelor?" `
` `
` "You have ample proof to the contrary, if you look `
` opposite," said the baroness, as she laughingly pointed to `
` the beautiful Greek. `
` `
` "No, no!" exclaimed Debray; "that girl is not his wife: he `
` told us himself she was his slave. Do you not recollect, `
` Morcerf, his telling us so at your breakfast?" `
` `
` "Well, then," said the baroness, "if slave she be, she has `
` all the air and manner of a princess." `
` `
` "Of the `Arabian Nights'?" `
` `
` "If you like; but tell me, my dear Lucien, what it is that `
` constitutes a princess. Why, diamonds -- and she is covered `
` with them." `
` `
` "To me she seems overloaded," observed Eugenie; "she would `
` look far better if she wore fewer, and we should then be `
` able to see her finely formed throat and wrists." `
` `
` "See how the artist peeps out!" exclaimed Madame Danglars. `
` "My poor Eugenie, you must conceal your passion for the fine `
` arts." `
` `
` "I admire all that is beautiful," returned the young lady. `
` `
` "What do you think of the count?" inquired Debray; "he is `
` not much amiss, according to my ideas of good looks." `
` `
` "The count," repeated Eugenie, as though it had not occurred `
` to her to observe him sooner; "the count? -- oh, he is so `
` dreadfully pale." `
` `
` "I quite agree with you," said Morcerf; "and the secret of `
` that very pallor is what we want to find out. The Countess `
` G---- insists upon it that he is a vampire." `
` `
` "Then the Countess G---- has returned to Paris, has she?" `
` inquired the baroness. `
` `
` "Is that she, mamma?" asked Eugenie; "almost opposite to us, `
` with that profusion of beautiful light hair?" `
` `
` "Yes," said Madame Danglars, "that is she. Shall I tell you `
` what you ought to do, Morcerf?" `
` `
` "Command me, madame." `
` `
` "Well, then, you should go and bring your Count of Monte `
` Cristo to us." `
` `
` "What for?" asked Eugenie. `
` `
` "What for? Why, to converse with him, of course. Have you `
` really no desire to meet him?" `
` `
` "None whatever," replied Eugenie. `
` `
` "Strange child," murmured the baroness. `
` `
` "He will very probably come of his own accord," said `
` Morcerf. "There; do you see, madame, he recognizes you, and `
` bows." The baroness returned the salute in the most smiling `
` and graceful manner. `
` `
` "Well," said Morcerf, "I may as well be magnanimous, and `
` tear myself away to forward your wishes. Adieu; I will go `
` and try if there are any means of speaking to him." `
` `
` "Go straight to his box; that will be the simplest plan." `
` `
` "But I have never been presented." `
` `
` "Presented to whom?" `
` `
` "To the beautiful Greek." `
` `
` "You say she is only a slave?" `
` `
` "While you assert that she is a queen, or at least a `
` princess. No; I hope that when he sees me leave you, he will `
` come out." `
` `
` "That is possible -- go." `
` `
` "I am going," said Albert, as he made his parting bow. Just `
` as he was passing the count's box, the door opened, and `
` Monte Cristo came forth. After giving some directions to `
` Ali, who stood in the lobby, the count took Albert's arm. `
` Carefully closing the box door, Ali placed himself before `
` it, while a crowd of spectators assembled round the Nubian. `
` `
` "Upon my word," said Monte Cristo, "Paris is a strange city, `
` and the Parisians a very singular people. See that cluster `
` of persons collected around poor Ali, who is as much `
` astonished as themselves; really one might suppose he was `
` the only Nubian they had ever beheld. Now I can promise you, `
` that a Frenchman might show himself in public, either in `
` Tunis, Constantinople, Bagdad, or Cairo, without being `
` treated in that way." `
` `
` "That shows that the Eastern nations have too much good `
` sense to waste their time and attention on objects `
` undeserving of either. However, as far as Ali is concerned, `
` I can assure you, the interest he excites is merely from the `
` circumstance of his being your attendant -- you, who are at `
` this moment the most celebrated and fashionable person in `
` Paris." `
` `
` "Really? and what has procured me so fluttering a `
` distinction?" `
` `
` "What? why, yourself, to be sure! You give away horses worth `
` a thousand louis; you save the lives of ladies of high rank `
` and beauty; under the name of Major Brack you run `
` thoroughbreds ridden by tiny urchins not larger than `
` marmots; then, when you have carried off the golden trophy `
` of victory, instead of setting any value on it, you give it `
` to the first handsome woman you think of!" `
` `
` "And who has filled your head with all this nonsense?" `
` `
` "Why, in the first place, I heard it from Madame Danglars, `
` who, by the by, is dying to see you in her box, or to have `
` you seen there by others; secondly, I learned it from `
` Beauchamp's journal; and thirdly, from my own imagination. `
` Why, if you sought concealment, did you call your horse `
` Vampa?" `
` `
` "That was an oversight, certainly," replied the count; "but `
` tell me, does the Count of Morcerf never visit the Opera? I `
` have been looking for him, but without success." `
` `
` "He will be here to-night." `
` `
` "In what part of the house?" `
` `
` "In the baroness's box, I believe." `
` `
` "That charming young woman with her is her daughter?" `
` `
` "Yes." `
` `
` "I congratulate you." Morcerf smiled. "We will discuss that `
` subject at length some future time," said he. "But what do `
` you think of the music?" `
` `
` "What music?" `
` `
` "Why, the music you have been listening to." `
` `
` "Oh, it is well enough as the production of a human `
` composer, sung by featherless bipeds, to quote the late `
` Diogenes." `
` `
` "From which it would seem, my dear count, that you can at `
` pleasure enjoy the seraphic strains that proceed from the `
` seven choirs of paradise?" `
` `
` "You are right, in some degree; when I wish to listen to `
` sounds more exquisitely attuned to melody than mortal ear `
` ever yet listened to, I go to sleep." `
` `
` "Then sleep here, my dear count. The conditions are `
` favorable; what else was opera invented for?" `
` `
` "No, thank you. Your orchestra is too noisy. To sleep after `
` the manner I speak of, absolute calm and silence are `
` necessary, and then a certain preparation" -- `
` `
` "I know -- the famous hashish!" `
` `
` "Precisely. So, my dear viscount, whenever you wish to be `
` regaled with music come and sup with me." `
` `
` "I have already enjoyed that treat when breakfasting with `
` you," said Morcerf. `
` `
` "Do you mean at Rome?" `
` `
` "I do." `
` `
` "Ah, then, I suppose you heard Haidee's guzla; the poor `
` exile frequently beguiles a weary hour in playing over to me `
` the airs of her native land." Morcerf did not pursue the `
` subject, and Monte Cristo himself fell into a silent `
` reverie. The bell rang at this moment for the rising of the `
`
` `
` "I must try and persuade M. Danglars to invite him to a ball `
` or dinner, or something of the sort, that he may be `
` compelled to ask us in return." `
` `
` "What," said Debray, laughing; "do you really mean you would `
` go to his house?" `
` `
` "Why not? my husband could accompany me." `
` `
` "But do you know this mysterious count is a bachelor?" `
` `
` "You have ample proof to the contrary, if you look `
` opposite," said the baroness, as she laughingly pointed to `
` the beautiful Greek. `
` `
` "No, no!" exclaimed Debray; "that girl is not his wife: he `
` told us himself she was his slave. Do you not recollect, `
` Morcerf, his telling us so at your breakfast?" `
` `
` "Well, then," said the baroness, "if slave she be, she has `
` all the air and manner of a princess." `
` `
` "Of the `Arabian Nights'?" `
` `
` "If you like; but tell me, my dear Lucien, what it is that `
` constitutes a princess. Why, diamonds -- and she is covered `
` with them." `
` `
` "To me she seems overloaded," observed Eugenie; "she would `
` look far better if she wore fewer, and we should then be `
` able to see her finely formed throat and wrists." `
` `
` "See how the artist peeps out!" exclaimed Madame Danglars. `
` "My poor Eugenie, you must conceal your passion for the fine `
` arts." `
` `
` "I admire all that is beautiful," returned the young lady. `
` `
` "What do you think of the count?" inquired Debray; "he is `
` not much amiss, according to my ideas of good looks." `
` `
` "The count," repeated Eugenie, as though it had not occurred `
` to her to observe him sooner; "the count? -- oh, he is so `
` dreadfully pale." `
` `
` "I quite agree with you," said Morcerf; "and the secret of `
` that very pallor is what we want to find out. The Countess `
` G---- insists upon it that he is a vampire." `
` `
` "Then the Countess G---- has returned to Paris, has she?" `
` inquired the baroness. `
` `
` "Is that she, mamma?" asked Eugenie; "almost opposite to us, `
` with that profusion of beautiful light hair?" `
` `
` "Yes," said Madame Danglars, "that is she. Shall I tell you `
` what you ought to do, Morcerf?" `
` `
` "Command me, madame." `
` `
` "Well, then, you should go and bring your Count of Monte `
` Cristo to us." `
` `
` "What for?" asked Eugenie. `
` `
` "What for? Why, to converse with him, of course. Have you `
` really no desire to meet him?" `
` `
` "None whatever," replied Eugenie. `
` `
` "Strange child," murmured the baroness. `
` `
` "He will very probably come of his own accord," said `
` Morcerf. "There; do you see, madame, he recognizes you, and `
` bows." The baroness returned the salute in the most smiling `
` and graceful manner. `
` `
` "Well," said Morcerf, "I may as well be magnanimous, and `
` tear myself away to forward your wishes. Adieu; I will go `
` and try if there are any means of speaking to him." `
` `
` "Go straight to his box; that will be the simplest plan." `
` `
` "But I have never been presented." `
` `
` "Presented to whom?" `
` `
` "To the beautiful Greek." `
` `
` "You say she is only a slave?" `
` `
` "While you assert that she is a queen, or at least a `
` princess. No; I hope that when he sees me leave you, he will `
` come out." `
` `
` "That is possible -- go." `
` `
` "I am going," said Albert, as he made his parting bow. Just `
` as he was passing the count's box, the door opened, and `
` Monte Cristo came forth. After giving some directions to `
` Ali, who stood in the lobby, the count took Albert's arm. `
` Carefully closing the box door, Ali placed himself before `
` it, while a crowd of spectators assembled round the Nubian. `
` `
` "Upon my word," said Monte Cristo, "Paris is a strange city, `
` and the Parisians a very singular people. See that cluster `
` of persons collected around poor Ali, who is as much `
` astonished as themselves; really one might suppose he was `
` the only Nubian they had ever beheld. Now I can promise you, `
` that a Frenchman might show himself in public, either in `
` Tunis, Constantinople, Bagdad, or Cairo, without being `
` treated in that way." `
` `
` "That shows that the Eastern nations have too much good `
` sense to waste their time and attention on objects `
` undeserving of either. However, as far as Ali is concerned, `
` I can assure you, the interest he excites is merely from the `
` circumstance of his being your attendant -- you, who are at `
` this moment the most celebrated and fashionable person in `
` Paris." `
` `
` "Really? and what has procured me so fluttering a `
` distinction?" `
` `
` "What? why, yourself, to be sure! You give away horses worth `
` a thousand louis; you save the lives of ladies of high rank `
` and beauty; under the name of Major Brack you run `
` thoroughbreds ridden by tiny urchins not larger than `
` marmots; then, when you have carried off the golden trophy `
` of victory, instead of setting any value on it, you give it `
` to the first handsome woman you think of!" `
` `
` "And who has filled your head with all this nonsense?" `
` `
` "Why, in the first place, I heard it from Madame Danglars, `
` who, by the by, is dying to see you in her box, or to have `
` you seen there by others; secondly, I learned it from `
` Beauchamp's journal; and thirdly, from my own imagination. `
` Why, if you sought concealment, did you call your horse `
` Vampa?" `
` `
` "That was an oversight, certainly," replied the count; "but `
` tell me, does the Count of Morcerf never visit the Opera? I `
` have been looking for him, but without success." `
` `
` "He will be here to-night." `
` `
` "In what part of the house?" `
` `
` "In the baroness's box, I believe." `
` `
` "That charming young woman with her is her daughter?" `
` `
` "Yes." `
` `
` "I congratulate you." Morcerf smiled. "We will discuss that `
` subject at length some future time," said he. "But what do `
` you think of the music?" `
` `
` "What music?" `
` `
` "Why, the music you have been listening to." `
` `
` "Oh, it is well enough as the production of a human `
` composer, sung by featherless bipeds, to quote the late `
` Diogenes." `
` `
` "From which it would seem, my dear count, that you can at `
` pleasure enjoy the seraphic strains that proceed from the `
` seven choirs of paradise?" `
` `
` "You are right, in some degree; when I wish to listen to `
` sounds more exquisitely attuned to melody than mortal ear `
` ever yet listened to, I go to sleep." `
` `
` "Then sleep here, my dear count. The conditions are `
` favorable; what else was opera invented for?" `
` `
` "No, thank you. Your orchestra is too noisy. To sleep after `
` the manner I speak of, absolute calm and silence are `
` necessary, and then a certain preparation" -- `
` `
` "I know -- the famous hashish!" `
` `
` "Precisely. So, my dear viscount, whenever you wish to be `
` regaled with music come and sup with me." `
` `
` "I have already enjoyed that treat when breakfasting with `
` you," said Morcerf. `
` `
` "Do you mean at Rome?" `
` `
` "I do." `
` `
` "Ah, then, I suppose you heard Haidee's guzla; the poor `
` exile frequently beguiles a weary hour in playing over to me `
` the airs of her native land." Morcerf did not pursue the `
` subject, and Monte Cristo himself fell into a silent `
` reverie. The bell rang at this moment for the rising of the `
`