Reading Help The Count of Monte Cristo Ch.40-74
led his guest into the salon. The salon was filled with the `
` works of modern artists; there were landscapes by Dupre, `
` with their long reeds and tall trees, their lowing oxen and `
` marvellous skies; Delacroix's Arabian cavaliers, with their `
` long white burnouses, their shining belts, their damasked `
` arms, their horses, who tore each other with their teeth `
` while their riders contended fiercely with their maces; `
` aquarelles of Boulanger, representing Notre Dame de Paris `
` with that vigor that makes the artist the rival of the poet; `
` there were paintings by Diaz, who makes his flowers more `
` beautiful than flowers, his suns more brilliant than the `
` sun; designs by Decamp, as vividly colored as those of `
` Salvator Rosa, but more poetic; pastels by Giraud and `
` Muller, representing children like angels and women with the `
` features of a virgin; sketches torn from the album of `
` Dauzats' "Travels in the East," that had been made in a few `
` seconds on the saddle of a camel, or beneath the dome of a `
` mosque -- in a word, all that modern art can give in `
` exchange and as recompense for the art lost and gone with `
` ages long since past. `
` `
` Albert expected to have something new this time to show to `
` the traveller, but, to his great surprise, the latter, `
` without seeking for the signatures, many of which, indeed, `
` were only initials, named instantly the author of every `
` picture in such a manner that it was easy to see that each `
` name was not only known to him, but that each style `
` associated with it had been appreciated and studied by him. `
` From the salon they passed into the bed-chamber; it was a `
` model of taste and simple elegance. A single portrait, `
` signed by Leopold Robert, shone in its carved and gilded `
` frame. This portrait attracted the Count of Monte Cristo's `
` attention, for he made three rapid steps in the chamber, and `
` stopped suddenly before it. It was the portrait of a young `
` woman of five or six and twenty, with a dark complexion, and `
` light and lustrous eyes, veiled beneath long lashes. She `
` wore the picturesque costume of the Catalan fisherwomen, a `
` red and black bodice, and golden pins in her hair. She was `
` looking at the sea, and her form was outlined on the blue `
` ocean and sky. The light was so faint in the room that `
` Albert did not perceive the pallor that spread itself over `
` the count's visage, or the nervous heaving of his chest and `
` shoulders. Silence prevailed for an instant, during which `
` Monte Cristo gazed intently on the picture. `
` `
` "You have there a most charming mistress, viscount," said `
` the count in a perfectly calm tone; "and this costume -- a `
` ball costume, doubtless -- becomes her admirably." `
` `
` "Ah, monsieur," returned Albert, "I would never forgive you `
` this mistake if you had seen another picture beside this. `
` You do not know my mother; she it is whom you see here. She `
` had her portrait painted thus six or eight years ago. This `
` costume is a fancy one, it appears, and the resemblance is `
` so great that I think I still see my mother the same as she `
` was in 1830. The countess had this portrait painted during `
` the count's absence. She doubtless intended giving him an `
` agreeable surprise; but, strange to say, this portrait `
` seemed to displease my father, and the value of the picture, `
` which is, as you see, one of the best works of Leopold `
` Robert, could not overcome his dislike to it. It is true, `
` between ourselves, that M. de Morcerf is one of the most `
` assiduous peers at the Luxembourg, a general renowned for `
` theory, but a most mediocre amateur of art. It is different `
` with my mother, who paints exceedingly well, and who, `
` unwilling to part with so valuable a picture, gave it to me `
` to put here, where it would be less likely to displease M. `
` de Morcerf, whose portrait, by Gros, I will also show you. `
` Excuse my talking of family matters, but as I shall have the `
` honor of introducing you to the count, I tell you this to `
` prevent you making any allusions to this picture. The `
` picture seems to have a malign influence, for my mother `
` rarely comes here without looking at it, and still more `
` rarely does she look at it without weeping. This `
` disagreement is the only one that has ever taken place `
` between the count and countess, who are still as much `
` united, although married more than twenty years, as on the `
` first day of their wedding." `
` `
` Monte Cristo glanced rapidly at Albert, as if to seek a `
` hidden meaning in his words, but it was evident the young `
` man uttered them in the simplicity of his heart. "Now," said `
` Albert, "that you have seen all my treasures, allow me to `
` offer them to you, unworthy as they are. Consider yourself `
` as in your own house, and to put yourself still more at your `
` ease, pray accompany me to the apartments of M. de Morcerf, `
` he whom I wrote from Rome an account of the services you `
` rendered me, and to whom I announced your promised visit, `
` and I may say that both the count and countess anxiously `
` desire to thank you in person. You are somewhat blase I `
` know, and family scenes have not much effect on Sinbad the `
` Sailor, who has seen so many others. However, accept what I `
` propose to you as an initiation into Parisian life -- a life `
` of politeness, visiting, and introductions." Monte Cristo `
` bowed without making any answer; he accepted the offer `
` without enthusiasm and without regret, as one of those `
` conventions of society which every gentleman looks upon as a `
` duty. Albert summoned his servant, and ordered him to `
` acquaint M. and Madame de Morcerf of the arrival of the `
` Count of Monte Cristo. Albert followed him with the count. `
` When they arrived at the ante-chamber, above the door was `
` visible a shield, which, by its rich ornaments and its `
` harmony with the rest of the furniture, indicated the `
` importance the owner attached to this blazon. Monte Cristo `
` stopped and examined it attentively. `
` `
` "Azure seven merlets, or, placed bender," said he. "These `
` are, doubtless, your family arms? Except the knowledge of `
` blazons, that enables me to decipher them, I am very `
` ignorant of heraldry -- I, a count of a fresh creation, `
` fabricated in Tuscany by the aid of a commandery of St. `
` Stephen, and who would not have taken the trouble had I not `
` been told that when you travel much it is necessary. `
` Besides, you must have something on the panels of your `
` carriage, to escape being searched by the custom-house `
` officers. Excuse my putting such a question to you." `
` `
` "It is not indiscreet," returned Morcerf, with the `
` simplicity of conviction. "You have guessed rightly. These `
` are our arms, that is, those of my father, but they are, as `
` you see, joined to another shield, which has gules, a silver `
` tower, which are my mother's. By her side I am Spanish, but `
` the family of Morcerf is French, and, I have heard, one of `
` the oldest of the south of France." `
` `
` "Yes," replied Monte Cristo "these blazons prove that. `
` Almost all the armed pilgrims that went to the Holy Land `
` took for their arms either a cross, in honor of their `
` mission, or birds of passage, in sign of the long voyage `
` they were about to undertake, and which they hoped to `
` accomplish on the wings of faith. One of your ancestors had `
` joined the Crusades, and supposing it to be only that of St. `
` Louis, that makes you mount to the thirteenth century, which `
` is tolerably ancient." `
` `
` "It is possible," said Morcerf; "my father has in his study `
` a genealogical tree which will tell you all that, and on `
` which I made commentaries that would have greatly edified `
` Hozier and Jaucourt. At present I no longer think of it, and `
` yet I must tell you that we are beginning to occupy `
` ourselves greatly with these things under our popular `
` government." `
` `
` "Well, then, your government would do well to choose from `
` the past something better than the things that I have `
` noticed on your monuments, and which have no heraldic `
` meaning whatever. As for you, viscount," continued Monte `
` Cristo to Morcerf, "you are more fortunate than the `
` government, for your arms are really beautiful, and speak to `
` the imagination. Yes, you are at once from Provence and `
` Spain; that explains, if the portrait you showed me be like, `
` the dark hue I so much admired on the visage of the noble `
` Catalan." It would have required the penetration of Oedipus `
` or the Sphinx to have divined the irony the count concealed `
` beneath these words, apparently uttered with the greatest `
` politeness. Morcerf thanked him with a smile, and pushed `
` open the door above which were his arms, and which, as we `
` have said, opened into the salon. In the most conspicuous `
` part of the salon was another portrait. It was that of a `
` man, from five to eight and thirty, in the uniform of a `
` general officer, wearing the double epaulet of heavy `
` bullion, that indicates superior rank, the ribbon of the `
` Legion of Honor around his neck, which showed he was a `
` commander, and on the right breast, the star of a grand `
` officer of the order of the Saviour, and on the left that of `
` the grand cross of Charles III., which proved that the `
` person represented by the picture had served in the wars of `
` Greece and Spain, or, what was just the same thing as `
` regarded decorations, had fulfilled some diplomatic mission `
` in the two countries. `
` `
` Monte Cristo was engaged in examining this portrait with no `
` less care than he had bestowed upon the other, when another `
` door opened, and he found himself opposite to the Count of `
` Morcerf in person. He was a man of forty to forty-five `
` years, but he seemed at least fifty, and his black mustache `
` and eyebrows contrasted strangely with his almost white `
` hair, which was cut short, in the military fashion. He was `
` dressed in plain clothes, and wore at his button-hole the `
` ribbons of the different orders to which he belonged. He `
` entered with a tolerably dignified step, and some little `
` haste. Monte Cristo saw him advance towards him without `
` making a single step. It seemed as if his feet were rooted `
` to the ground, and his eyes on the Count of Morcerf. `
` "Father," said the young man, "I have the honor of `
` presenting to you the Count of Monte Cristo, the generous `
` friend whom I had the good fortune to meet in the critical `
` situation of which I have told you." `
` `
` "You are most welcome, monsieur," said the Count of Morcerf, `
` saluting Monte Cristo with a smile, "and monsieur has `
` rendered our house, in preserving its only heir, a service `
` which insures him our eternal gratitude." As he said these `
` words, the count of Morcerf pointed to a chair, while he `
` seated himself in another opposite the window. `
` `
` Monte Cristo, in taking the seat Morcerf offered him, placed `
` himself in such a manner as to remain concealed in the `
` shadow of the large velvet curtains, and read on the `
` careworn and livid features of the count a whole history of `
` secret griefs written in each wrinkle time had planted `
`
` works of modern artists; there were landscapes by Dupre, `
` with their long reeds and tall trees, their lowing oxen and `
` marvellous skies; Delacroix's Arabian cavaliers, with their `
` long white burnouses, their shining belts, their damasked `
` arms, their horses, who tore each other with their teeth `
` while their riders contended fiercely with their maces; `
` aquarelles of Boulanger, representing Notre Dame de Paris `
` with that vigor that makes the artist the rival of the poet; `
` there were paintings by Diaz, who makes his flowers more `
` beautiful than flowers, his suns more brilliant than the `
` sun; designs by Decamp, as vividly colored as those of `
` Salvator Rosa, but more poetic; pastels by Giraud and `
` Muller, representing children like angels and women with the `
` features of a virgin; sketches torn from the album of `
` Dauzats' "Travels in the East," that had been made in a few `
` seconds on the saddle of a camel, or beneath the dome of a `
` mosque -- in a word, all that modern art can give in `
` exchange and as recompense for the art lost and gone with `
` ages long since past. `
` `
` Albert expected to have something new this time to show to `
` the traveller, but, to his great surprise, the latter, `
` without seeking for the signatures, many of which, indeed, `
` were only initials, named instantly the author of every `
` picture in such a manner that it was easy to see that each `
` name was not only known to him, but that each style `
` associated with it had been appreciated and studied by him. `
` From the salon they passed into the bed-chamber; it was a `
` model of taste and simple elegance. A single portrait, `
` signed by Leopold Robert, shone in its carved and gilded `
` frame. This portrait attracted the Count of Monte Cristo's `
` attention, for he made three rapid steps in the chamber, and `
` stopped suddenly before it. It was the portrait of a young `
` woman of five or six and twenty, with a dark complexion, and `
` light and lustrous eyes, veiled beneath long lashes. She `
` wore the picturesque costume of the Catalan fisherwomen, a `
` red and black bodice, and golden pins in her hair. She was `
` looking at the sea, and her form was outlined on the blue `
` ocean and sky. The light was so faint in the room that `
` Albert did not perceive the pallor that spread itself over `
` the count's visage, or the nervous heaving of his chest and `
` shoulders. Silence prevailed for an instant, during which `
` Monte Cristo gazed intently on the picture. `
` `
` "You have there a most charming mistress, viscount," said `
` the count in a perfectly calm tone; "and this costume -- a `
` ball costume, doubtless -- becomes her admirably." `
` `
` "Ah, monsieur," returned Albert, "I would never forgive you `
` this mistake if you had seen another picture beside this. `
` You do not know my mother; she it is whom you see here. She `
` had her portrait painted thus six or eight years ago. This `
` costume is a fancy one, it appears, and the resemblance is `
` so great that I think I still see my mother the same as she `
` was in 1830. The countess had this portrait painted during `
` the count's absence. She doubtless intended giving him an `
` agreeable surprise; but, strange to say, this portrait `
` seemed to displease my father, and the value of the picture, `
` which is, as you see, one of the best works of Leopold `
` Robert, could not overcome his dislike to it. It is true, `
` between ourselves, that M. de Morcerf is one of the most `
` assiduous peers at the Luxembourg, a general renowned for `
` theory, but a most mediocre amateur of art. It is different `
` with my mother, who paints exceedingly well, and who, `
` unwilling to part with so valuable a picture, gave it to me `
` to put here, where it would be less likely to displease M. `
` de Morcerf, whose portrait, by Gros, I will also show you. `
` Excuse my talking of family matters, but as I shall have the `
` honor of introducing you to the count, I tell you this to `
` prevent you making any allusions to this picture. The `
` picture seems to have a malign influence, for my mother `
` rarely comes here without looking at it, and still more `
` rarely does she look at it without weeping. This `
` disagreement is the only one that has ever taken place `
` between the count and countess, who are still as much `
` united, although married more than twenty years, as on the `
` first day of their wedding." `
` `
` Monte Cristo glanced rapidly at Albert, as if to seek a `
` hidden meaning in his words, but it was evident the young `
` man uttered them in the simplicity of his heart. "Now," said `
` Albert, "that you have seen all my treasures, allow me to `
` offer them to you, unworthy as they are. Consider yourself `
` as in your own house, and to put yourself still more at your `
` ease, pray accompany me to the apartments of M. de Morcerf, `
` he whom I wrote from Rome an account of the services you `
` rendered me, and to whom I announced your promised visit, `
` and I may say that both the count and countess anxiously `
` desire to thank you in person. You are somewhat blase I `
` know, and family scenes have not much effect on Sinbad the `
` Sailor, who has seen so many others. However, accept what I `
` propose to you as an initiation into Parisian life -- a life `
` of politeness, visiting, and introductions." Monte Cristo `
` bowed without making any answer; he accepted the offer `
` without enthusiasm and without regret, as one of those `
` conventions of society which every gentleman looks upon as a `
` duty. Albert summoned his servant, and ordered him to `
` acquaint M. and Madame de Morcerf of the arrival of the `
` Count of Monte Cristo. Albert followed him with the count. `
` When they arrived at the ante-chamber, above the door was `
` visible a shield, which, by its rich ornaments and its `
` harmony with the rest of the furniture, indicated the `
` importance the owner attached to this blazon. Monte Cristo `
` stopped and examined it attentively. `
` `
` "Azure seven merlets, or, placed bender," said he. "These `
` are, doubtless, your family arms? Except the knowledge of `
` blazons, that enables me to decipher them, I am very `
` ignorant of heraldry -- I, a count of a fresh creation, `
` fabricated in Tuscany by the aid of a commandery of St. `
` Stephen, and who would not have taken the trouble had I not `
` been told that when you travel much it is necessary. `
` Besides, you must have something on the panels of your `
` carriage, to escape being searched by the custom-house `
` officers. Excuse my putting such a question to you." `
` `
` "It is not indiscreet," returned Morcerf, with the `
` simplicity of conviction. "You have guessed rightly. These `
` are our arms, that is, those of my father, but they are, as `
` you see, joined to another shield, which has gules, a silver `
` tower, which are my mother's. By her side I am Spanish, but `
` the family of Morcerf is French, and, I have heard, one of `
` the oldest of the south of France." `
` `
` "Yes," replied Monte Cristo "these blazons prove that. `
` Almost all the armed pilgrims that went to the Holy Land `
` took for their arms either a cross, in honor of their `
` mission, or birds of passage, in sign of the long voyage `
` they were about to undertake, and which they hoped to `
` accomplish on the wings of faith. One of your ancestors had `
` joined the Crusades, and supposing it to be only that of St. `
` Louis, that makes you mount to the thirteenth century, which `
` is tolerably ancient." `
` `
` "It is possible," said Morcerf; "my father has in his study `
` a genealogical tree which will tell you all that, and on `
` which I made commentaries that would have greatly edified `
` Hozier and Jaucourt. At present I no longer think of it, and `
` yet I must tell you that we are beginning to occupy `
` ourselves greatly with these things under our popular `
` government." `
` `
` "Well, then, your government would do well to choose from `
` the past something better than the things that I have `
` noticed on your monuments, and which have no heraldic `
` meaning whatever. As for you, viscount," continued Monte `
` Cristo to Morcerf, "you are more fortunate than the `
` government, for your arms are really beautiful, and speak to `
` the imagination. Yes, you are at once from Provence and `
` Spain; that explains, if the portrait you showed me be like, `
` the dark hue I so much admired on the visage of the noble `
` Catalan." It would have required the penetration of Oedipus `
` or the Sphinx to have divined the irony the count concealed `
` beneath these words, apparently uttered with the greatest `
` politeness. Morcerf thanked him with a smile, and pushed `
` open the door above which were his arms, and which, as we `
` have said, opened into the salon. In the most conspicuous `
` part of the salon was another portrait. It was that of a `
` man, from five to eight and thirty, in the uniform of a `
` general officer, wearing the double epaulet of heavy `
` bullion, that indicates superior rank, the ribbon of the `
` Legion of Honor around his neck, which showed he was a `
` commander, and on the right breast, the star of a grand `
` officer of the order of the Saviour, and on the left that of `
` the grand cross of Charles III., which proved that the `
` person represented by the picture had served in the wars of `
` Greece and Spain, or, what was just the same thing as `
` regarded decorations, had fulfilled some diplomatic mission `
` in the two countries. `
` `
` Monte Cristo was engaged in examining this portrait with no `
` less care than he had bestowed upon the other, when another `
` door opened, and he found himself opposite to the Count of `
` Morcerf in person. He was a man of forty to forty-five `
` years, but he seemed at least fifty, and his black mustache `
` and eyebrows contrasted strangely with his almost white `
` hair, which was cut short, in the military fashion. He was `
` dressed in plain clothes, and wore at his button-hole the `
` ribbons of the different orders to which he belonged. He `
` entered with a tolerably dignified step, and some little `
` haste. Monte Cristo saw him advance towards him without `
` making a single step. It seemed as if his feet were rooted `
` to the ground, and his eyes on the Count of Morcerf. `
` "Father," said the young man, "I have the honor of `
` presenting to you the Count of Monte Cristo, the generous `
` friend whom I had the good fortune to meet in the critical `
` situation of which I have told you." `
` `
` "You are most welcome, monsieur," said the Count of Morcerf, `
` saluting Monte Cristo with a smile, "and monsieur has `
` rendered our house, in preserving its only heir, a service `
` which insures him our eternal gratitude." As he said these `
` words, the count of Morcerf pointed to a chair, while he `
` seated himself in another opposite the window. `
` `
` Monte Cristo, in taking the seat Morcerf offered him, placed `
` himself in such a manner as to remain concealed in the `
` shadow of the large velvet curtains, and read on the `
` careworn and livid features of the count a whole history of `
` secret griefs written in each wrinkle time had planted `
`