Reading Help The Count of Monte Cristo Ch.40-74
and which you may have seen in my collection of arms. In `
` after years, whether he had forgotten this interchange of `
` presents, which ought to have cemented our friendship, or `
` whether he did not recollect me, he sought to take me, but, `
` on the contrary, it was I who captured him and a dozen of `
` his band. I might have handed him over to Roman justice, `
` which is somewhat expeditious, and which would have been `
` particularly so with him; but I did nothing of the sort -- I `
` suffered him and his band to depart." `
` `
` "With the condition that they should sin no more," said `
` Beauchamp, laughing. "I see they kept their promise." `
` `
` "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." `
` `
` "Bravo," cried Chateau-Renaud; "you are the first man I ever `
` met sufficiently courageous to preach egotism. Bravo, count, `
` bravo!" `
` `
` "It is frank, at least," said Morrel. "But I am sure that `
` the count does not regret having once deviated from the `
` principles he has so boldly avowed." `
` `
` "How have I deviated from those principles, monsieur?" asked `
` Monte Cristo, who could not help looking at Morrel with so `
` much intensity, that two or three times the young man had `
` been unable to sustain that clear and piercing glance. `
` `
` "Why, it seems to me," replied Morrel, "that in delivering `
` M. de Morcerf, whom you did not know, you did good to your `
` neighbor 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 must `
` see it clearly proved that instead of being an egotist, you `
` are a philanthropist. Ah, you call yourself Oriental, a `
` Levantine, Maltese, Indian, Chinese; your family name is `
` Monte Cristo; Sinbad the Sailor is your baptismal `
` appellation, and yet the first day you set foot in Paris you `
` instinctively display the greatest virtue, or rather the `
` chief defect, of us eccentric Parisians, -- that is, you `
` assume the vices you have not, and conceal the virtues you `
` possess." `
` `
` "My dear vicomte," returned Monte Cristo, "I do not see, in `
` all I have done, anything that merits, either from you or `
` these gentlemen, the pretended eulogies I have received. You `
` were no stranger to me, for I knew you from the time I gave `
` up two rooms to you, invited you to breakfast with me, lent `
` you one of my carriages, witnessed the Carnival in your `
` company, and saw with you from a window in the Piazza del `
` Popolo the execution that affected you so much that you `
` nearly fainted. I will appeal to any of these gentlemen, `
` could I leave my guest in the hands of a hideous bandit, as `
` you term him? Besides, you know, I had the idea that you `
` could introduce me into some of the Paris salons when I came `
` to France. You might some time ago have looked upon this `
` resolution as a vague project, but to-day you see it was a `
` reality, and you must submit to it under penalty of breaking `
` your word." `
` `
` "I will keep it," returned Morcerf; "but I fear that you `
` will be much disappointed, accustomed as you are to `
` picturesque events and fantastic horizons. Amongst us you `
` will not meet with any of those episodes with which your `
` adventurous existence has so familiarized you; our `
` Chimborazo is Mortmartre, our Himalaya is Mount Valerien, `
` our Great Desert is the plain of Grenelle, where they are `
` now boring an artesian well to water the caravans. We have `
` plenty of thieves, though not so many as is said; but these `
` thieves stand in far more dread of a policeman than a lord. `
` France is so prosaic, and Paris so civilized a city, that `
` you will not find in its eighty-five departments -- I say `
` eighty-five, because I do not include Corsica -- you will `
` not find, then, in these eighty-five departments a single `
` hill on which there is not a telegraph, or a grotto in which `
` the commissary of police has not put up a gaslamp. There is `
` but one service I can render you, and for that I place `
` myself entirely at your orders, that is, to present, or make `
` my friends present, you everywhere; besides, you have no `
` need of any one to introduce you -- with your name, and your `
` fortune, and your talent" (Monte Cristo bowed with a `
` somewhat ironical smile) "you can present yourself `
` everywhere, and be well received. I can be useful in one way `
` only -- if knowledge of Parisian habits, of the means of `
` rendering yourself comfortable, or of the bazaars, can `
` assist, you may depend upon me to find you a fitting `
` dwelling here. I do not dare offer to share my apartments `
` with you, as I shared yours at Rome -- I, who do not profess `
` egotism, but am yet egotist par excellence; for, except `
` myself, these rooms would not hold a shadow more, unless `
` that shadow were feminine." `
` `
` "Ah," said the count, "that is a most conjugal reservation; `
` I recollect that at Rome you said something of a projected `
` marriage. 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 her `
` father Baron Danglars?" `
` `
` "Yes," returned Morcerf, "a baron of a new creation." `
` `
` "What matter," said Monte Cristo "if he has rendered the `
` State services which merit this distinction?" `
` `
` "Enormous ones," answered Beauchamp. "Although in reality a `
` Liberal, he negotiated a loan of six millions for Charles `
` X., in 1829, who made him a baron and chevalier of the `
` Legion of Honor; so that he wears the ribbon, not, as you `
` would think, in his waistcoat-pocket, but at his `
` button-hole." `
` `
` "Ah," interrupted Morcerf, laughing, "Beauchamp, Beauchamp, `
` keep that for the Corsaire or the Charivari, but spare my `
` future father-in-law before me." Then, turning to Monte `
` Cristo, "You just now spoke his name as if you knew the `
` baron?" `
` `
` "I do not know him," returned Monte Cristo; "but I shall `
` probably soon make his acquaintance, for I have a credit `
` opened 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 at `
` Maximilian Morrel. If the stranger expected to produce an `
` effect on Morrel, he was not mistaken -- Maximilian started `
` as 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 be `
` of any service to you?" `
` `
` "Oh, count, you could assist me perhaps in researches which `
` have been, up to the present, fruitless. This house, in past `
` years, did ours a great service, and has, I know not for `
` what 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 have `
` strangely wandered from the subject. We were speaking of a `
` suitable habitation for the Count of Monte Cristo. Come, `
` gentlemen, let us all propose some place. Where shall we `
` lodge this new guest in our great capital?" `
` `
` "Faubourg Saint-Germain," said Chateau-Renaud. "The count `
` will find there a charming hotel, with a court and garden." `
` `
` "Bah, Chateau-Renaud," returned Debray, "you only know your `
` dull and gloomy Faubourg Saint-Germain; do not pay any `
` attention to him, count -- live in the Chaussee d'Antin, `
` that's the real centre of Paris." `
` `
` "Boulevard de l'Opera," said Beauchamp; "the second floor -- `
` a house with a balcony. The count will have his cushions of `
` silver cloth brought there, and as he smokes his chibouque, `
` see all Paris pass before him." `
` `
` "You have no idea, then, Morrel?" asked Chateau-Renaud; "you `
` do not propose anything." `
` `
` "Oh, yes," returned the young man, smiling; "on the `
` contrary, I have one, but I expected the count would be `
` tempted by one of the brilliant proposals made him, yet as `
` he has not replied to any of them, I will venture to offer `
` him a suite of apartments in a charming hotel, in the `
` Pompadour style, that my sister has inhabited for a year, in `
` the Rue Meslay." `
` `
` "You have a sister?" asked the count. `
` `
` "Yes, monsieur, a most excellent sister." `
` `
` "Married?" `
` `
` "Nearly nine years." `
` `
` "Happy?" asked the count again. `
` `
` "As happy as it is permitted to a human creature to be," `
`
` after years, whether he had forgotten this interchange of `
` presents, which ought to have cemented our friendship, or `
` whether he did not recollect me, he sought to take me, but, `
` on the contrary, it was I who captured him and a dozen of `
` his band. I might have handed him over to Roman justice, `
` which is somewhat expeditious, and which would have been `
` particularly so with him; but I did nothing of the sort -- I `
` suffered him and his band to depart." `
` `
` "With the condition that they should sin no more," said `
` Beauchamp, laughing. "I see they kept their promise." `
` `
` "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." `
` `
` "Bravo," cried Chateau-Renaud; "you are the first man I ever `
` met sufficiently courageous to preach egotism. Bravo, count, `
` bravo!" `
` `
` "It is frank, at least," said Morrel. "But I am sure that `
` the count does not regret having once deviated from the `
` principles he has so boldly avowed." `
` `
` "How have I deviated from those principles, monsieur?" asked `
` Monte Cristo, who could not help looking at Morrel with so `
` much intensity, that two or three times the young man had `
` been unable to sustain that clear and piercing glance. `
` `
` "Why, it seems to me," replied Morrel, "that in delivering `
` M. de Morcerf, whom you did not know, you did good to your `
` neighbor 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 must `
` see it clearly proved that instead of being an egotist, you `
` are a philanthropist. Ah, you call yourself Oriental, a `
` Levantine, Maltese, Indian, Chinese; your family name is `
` Monte Cristo; Sinbad the Sailor is your baptismal `
` appellation, and yet the first day you set foot in Paris you `
` instinctively display the greatest virtue, or rather the `
` chief defect, of us eccentric Parisians, -- that is, you `
` assume the vices you have not, and conceal the virtues you `
` possess." `
` `
` "My dear vicomte," returned Monte Cristo, "I do not see, in `
` all I have done, anything that merits, either from you or `
` these gentlemen, the pretended eulogies I have received. You `
` were no stranger to me, for I knew you from the time I gave `
` up two rooms to you, invited you to breakfast with me, lent `
` you one of my carriages, witnessed the Carnival in your `
` company, and saw with you from a window in the Piazza del `
` Popolo the execution that affected you so much that you `
` nearly fainted. I will appeal to any of these gentlemen, `
` could I leave my guest in the hands of a hideous bandit, as `
` you term him? Besides, you know, I had the idea that you `
` could introduce me into some of the Paris salons when I came `
` to France. You might some time ago have looked upon this `
` resolution as a vague project, but to-day you see it was a `
` reality, and you must submit to it under penalty of breaking `
` your word." `
` `
` "I will keep it," returned Morcerf; "but I fear that you `
` will be much disappointed, accustomed as you are to `
` picturesque events and fantastic horizons. Amongst us you `
` will not meet with any of those episodes with which your `
` adventurous existence has so familiarized you; our `
` Chimborazo is Mortmartre, our Himalaya is Mount Valerien, `
` our Great Desert is the plain of Grenelle, where they are `
` now boring an artesian well to water the caravans. We have `
` plenty of thieves, though not so many as is said; but these `
` thieves stand in far more dread of a policeman than a lord. `
` France is so prosaic, and Paris so civilized a city, that `
` you will not find in its eighty-five departments -- I say `
` eighty-five, because I do not include Corsica -- you will `
` not find, then, in these eighty-five departments a single `
` hill on which there is not a telegraph, or a grotto in which `
` the commissary of police has not put up a gaslamp. There is `
` but one service I can render you, and for that I place `
` myself entirely at your orders, that is, to present, or make `
` my friends present, you everywhere; besides, you have no `
` need of any one to introduce you -- with your name, and your `
` fortune, and your talent" (Monte Cristo bowed with a `
` somewhat ironical smile) "you can present yourself `
` everywhere, and be well received. I can be useful in one way `
` only -- if knowledge of Parisian habits, of the means of `
` rendering yourself comfortable, or of the bazaars, can `
` assist, you may depend upon me to find you a fitting `
` dwelling here. I do not dare offer to share my apartments `
` with you, as I shared yours at Rome -- I, who do not profess `
` egotism, but am yet egotist par excellence; for, except `
` myself, these rooms would not hold a shadow more, unless `
` that shadow were feminine." `
` `
` "Ah," said the count, "that is a most conjugal reservation; `
` I recollect that at Rome you said something of a projected `
` marriage. 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 her `
` father Baron Danglars?" `
` `
` "Yes," returned Morcerf, "a baron of a new creation." `
` `
` "What matter," said Monte Cristo "if he has rendered the `
` State services which merit this distinction?" `
` `
` "Enormous ones," answered Beauchamp. "Although in reality a `
` Liberal, he negotiated a loan of six millions for Charles `
` X., in 1829, who made him a baron and chevalier of the `
` Legion of Honor; so that he wears the ribbon, not, as you `
` would think, in his waistcoat-pocket, but at his `
` button-hole." `
` `
` "Ah," interrupted Morcerf, laughing, "Beauchamp, Beauchamp, `
` keep that for the Corsaire or the Charivari, but spare my `
` future father-in-law before me." Then, turning to Monte `
` Cristo, "You just now spoke his name as if you knew the `
` baron?" `
` `
` "I do not know him," returned Monte Cristo; "but I shall `
` probably soon make his acquaintance, for I have a credit `
` opened 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 at `
` Maximilian Morrel. If the stranger expected to produce an `
` effect on Morrel, he was not mistaken -- Maximilian started `
` as 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 be `
` of any service to you?" `
` `
` "Oh, count, you could assist me perhaps in researches which `
` have been, up to the present, fruitless. This house, in past `
` years, did ours a great service, and has, I know not for `
` what 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 have `
` strangely wandered from the subject. We were speaking of a `
` suitable habitation for the Count of Monte Cristo. Come, `
` gentlemen, let us all propose some place. Where shall we `
` lodge this new guest in our great capital?" `
` `
` "Faubourg Saint-Germain," said Chateau-Renaud. "The count `
` will find there a charming hotel, with a court and garden." `
` `
` "Bah, Chateau-Renaud," returned Debray, "you only know your `
` dull and gloomy Faubourg Saint-Germain; do not pay any `
` attention to him, count -- live in the Chaussee d'Antin, `
` that's the real centre of Paris." `
` `
` "Boulevard de l'Opera," said Beauchamp; "the second floor -- `
` a house with a balcony. The count will have his cushions of `
` silver cloth brought there, and as he smokes his chibouque, `
` see all Paris pass before him." `
` `
` "You have no idea, then, Morrel?" asked Chateau-Renaud; "you `
` do not propose anything." `
` `
` "Oh, yes," returned the young man, smiling; "on the `
` contrary, I have one, but I expected the count would be `
` tempted by one of the brilliant proposals made him, yet as `
` he has not replied to any of them, I will venture to offer `
` him a suite of apartments in a charming hotel, in the `
` Pompadour style, that my sister has inhabited for a year, in `
` the Rue Meslay." `
` `
` "You have a sister?" asked the count. `
` `
` "Yes, monsieur, a most excellent sister." `
` `
` "Married?" `
` `
` "Nearly nine years." `
` `
` "Happy?" asked the count again. `
` `
` "As happy as it is permitted to a human creature to be," `
`