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The Count of Monte Cristo, Part One


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      Borgo Press Translations by Frank J. Morlock

      Plays by Alexandre Dumas

      Anthony

      The Count of Monte Cristo, Part One: The Betrayal of Edmond Dantès

      The Count of Monte Cristo, Part Two

      The Count of Monte Cristo, Part Three

      The Count of Monte Cristo, Part Four

      The Last of the Three Musketeers; or, The Prisoner of the Bastille (#3)

      The Three Musketeers—Twenty Years Later (#2)

      Napoléon Bonaparte

      Richard Darlington

      The San Felice

      The Three Musketeers (#1)

      Urbain Grandier and the Devils of Loudon

      The Whites and the Blues

      Related Dramas:

      The Son of Porthos the Musketeer, by Émile Blavet (#4)

      COPYRIGHT INFO

       Copyright © 2011 by Frank J. Morlock

      Published by Wildside Press LLC

      www.wildsidebooks.com

      DEDICATION

      To Conrad Cady—yet another project that would never have come to fruition without your encouragement and support.

      CAST OF CHARACTERS

      Edmond Dantès

      Danglars

      Dantès, the elder

      Morel

      Penelon

      Caderousse

      Villefort

      Noirtier, Villefort’s father

      Fernand Mondego

      Antoine, jailer

      De Baville

      The Governor

      Bertuccio

      A Policeman

      Baptiste

      Chief of Customs

      A Sailor

      Pamphile

      Germain

      Mercédès

      La Carconte

      Gringole

      Renée de Saint-Méran, wife of Villefort

      Madam Distel

      Madame Morel

      Maid

      ACT I, SCENE 1

      The bridge of the ship Pharaoh, the port of Marseille in the background.

      EDMOND

      Each to his post for the anchoring! Fine—it looks good to me.

      PENELON

      Tell me, Mr. Dantès, without being forced—

      EDMOND

      What is it, my good Penelon?

      PENELON

      Look who’s coming to us, down there in a punt—

      EDMOND

      Oh—oh—it’s Mr. Morel, our owner.

       PENELON

      The boss doesn’t lose any time! He’s coming with the Health Inspector.

      EDMOND

      Damn, you understand—it’s worth the trouble. I am sure that he wouldn’t miss his share in this voyage of 500,000 francs.

      PENELON

      Five hundred thousand francs! Plague! That’s a pretty figure.

      GRINGOLE

      I bet my share on the voyage won’t reach that figure, right, Master Penelon?

      PENELON

      Shut up, Gringole.

      EDMOND

      (command)

      Start to haul in the top sails, the jib and the spanker—Act shipshape! What is it Gringole?

      GRINGOLE

      Lieutenant, the Health Officer.

      HEALTH OFFICER

      Ahoy, ship—where are you from?

      EDMOND

      From Smyrna, Naples, and the isle of Elba.

      HEALTH OFFICER

      Have you been in quarantine?

      EDMOND

      At Smyrna.

      HEALTH OFFICER

      Let’s see your papers.

      EDMOND

      Here they are.

      (he hands them with tongs)

      Good day, Mr. Morel, a visit shortly, right?

      MOREL

      Yes, yes, good day, my good friend.

      HEALTH OFFICER

      It’s fine—everything in order. You can go aboard, gentlemen of the customs.

      MOREL

      And I—?

      HEALTH OFFICER

      You, too, Mr. Morel. And be first. To the gentlemen, all honor.

      MOREL

      (coming aboard)

      Good day, Edmond. Good day my friends. Where is Captain Leclere? But what’s wrong? The ship has an air of sadness which makes me uneasy?

      EDMOND

      Oh—we suffered a great misfortune, Mr. Morel.

      MOREL

      A great misfortune. You frighten me. What happened?

      EDMOND

      At Civita Vecchia we lost Captain Leclere.

      MOREL

      Our poor captain. And how did this misfortune occur, Edmond? Did he fall into the sea?

      EDMOND

      No, sir. After three days of horrible suffering, a brain fever carried him off.

      MOREL

      And how did this happen to him?

      EDMOND

      My God, sir, in the most unforeseen manner. After a long conversation with the Harbor Master, Captain Leclere left Naples in a state of great agitation. Within twenty-four hours, the fever took him—three days later, he was dead.

      MOREL

      Truly it’s strange.

      EDMOND

      This misfortune threw us in consternation. Death is terrible anywhere, yet more so, when one is lost in the immensity and tossed between the sea and the sky.

      MOREL

      You gave him a proper funeral?

      EDMOND

      Yes, Mr. Morel—he resides softly, wrapped in his hammock off the isle of Giglio with 36 cannon balls at his head and his feet. We bring back to his widow his cross and his sword. It was worthwhile to spend ten years fighting the English and make 3 voyages around the world—to die in his bed!

      MOREL

      What do you want my dear Edmond! It’s sad, I am well aware. But still, we are all