Александр Дюма

The Count of Monte Cristo, Part Three


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      Perhaps so, indeed.

      DEBRAY

      Do you think he’s capable of being punctual at least?

      ALBERT

      I think he’s capable of everything.

      BEAUCHAMP

      Observe that with the five minutes respite demanded we have only ten minutes.

      ALBERT

      Well, I’ve profited by speaking to you of my guest.

      BEAUCHAMP

      Is there a story from a news sheet that you are going to tell me?

      ALBERT

      Yes and something more curious beside.

      BEAUCHAMP

      Speak, then—for I see clearly I will miss the Chamber—and I must get back.

      ALBERT

      I was in Rome—it was two years ago during Carnival.

      BEAUCHAMP

      We know that.

      ALBERT

      Yes, but what you don’t know is that I was carried off by bandits.

      DEBRAY

      There were bandits.

      ALBERT

      And very hideous, in other words—wonderful. I found them wonderful to inspire fear. These gentlemen had kidnapped me and taken me to a very sad place, that they called the catacombs of Saint Sebastian. I was a prisoner against ransom, a miserly four thousand roman shillings or 26,000 francs. Unfortunately, I had only fifteen hundred; I was at the end of my travels. My credit was exhausted. I wrote to Frantz d’Epinay, who had traveled with me—and knew everything. The question was grave. If he hadn’t arrived at 6:00 in the morning with the four thousand shillings, at precisely 6:10, I was going to have to rejoin the blessed saints and glorious martyrs with whose relics, I had the honor of then finding myself.

      CHÂTEAUBRUN

      Well, Frantz arrived with the four thousand shillings?

      ALBERT

      No, he came purely and simply accompanied by the guest I announced to you, and who, I hope; I shall have the honor of presenting to you.

      DEBRAY

      Ah, that’s it. Why here’s a Hercules killing Cacus, like this gentleman, a Perseus delivering Andromeda?

      ALBERT

      No, he’s a man of my build, a little less.

      BEAUCHAMP

      He was armed to the teeth?

      ALBERT

      He didn’t even have knitting needles.

      CHÂTEAUBRUN

      He paid your ransom then?

      ALBERT

      He said two words in the ear of the chief bandit and I was free.

      BEAUCHAMP

      (laughing)

      Then he made some excuses for stopping you, right?

      ALBERT

      Exactly.

      DEBRAY

      Why then this was Ariosto?

      ALBERT

      No—it was the Count of Monte Cristo.

      DEBRAY

      Come on! No one’s called the Count of Monte Cristo.

      BEAUCHAMP

      Wait, wait! I think I can get you out of this embarrassment, Monte Cristo is a little island near which I passed on my way to Palermo.

      ALBERT

      Precisely. the man I speak of is King of this grain of sand, of this atom. He must have bought his title of Count somewhere in Tuscany.

      BEAUCHAMP

      He is rich, your Count?

      ALBERT

      I should think so. He has a cave full of gold.

      BEAUCHAMP

      And you have seen this cave?

      ALBERT

      No, but I’ve heard it spoken of.

      CHÂTEAUBRUN

      Eh, but so have I. One night, in the tent while we were waiting for our supper which did not come.

      DEBRAY

      Like our lunch today.

      ALBERT

      Don’t interrupt, Debray. What the devil! We are not in the Senate.

      CHÂTEAUBRUN

      Well, Morel, my savior, had always told me that he was going to hunt in this island of Monte-Cristo, and that there he had been invited to supper by a stranger, but on the condition that he let himself be blindfolded and escorted so he didn’t know where he was.

      ALBERT

      Well?

      CHÂTEAUBRUN

      Well—he went down to a cave. There he found a kind of magician who was served by mutes and by women compared to whom Aspasia and Cleopatra were only sluts.

      ALBERT

      Well, you are throwing ball of twine in my labyrinth, my dear Châteaubrun, the Count of your Captain de Spahis, is mine.

      DEBRAY

      Truly, my friend, you tell of unlikely things.

      ALBERT

      That doesn’t prevent my Count from existing.

      DEBRAY

      Everybody exists, quite a miracle!

      ALBERT

      Yes, but nobody exists in similar conditions. Not everybody has black slaves, princely galleries, weapons like Casuaba, horses of six million francs a piece, Greek mistresses.

      BEAUCHAMP

      He has a Greek mistress? Have you seen her?

      ALBERT

      Seen, with both my eyes, once at the Vallée theater and once when I lunched with the Count. Two times in all.

      DEBRAY

      So he actually eats, your extraordinary man?

      ALBERT

      My word, if he eats, it is so little that it is hardly worth speaking of.

      CHÂTEAUBRUN

      You see—he’s a vampire.

      ALBERT

      Well, gentleman, you are going to mock me, but I won’t say no.

      BEAUCHAMP

      Ah, bravo.

      CHÂTEAUBRUN

      Your Count of Monte Cristo is a gallant man in his lost moments, right?

      DEBRAY

      Yes, except in his little arrangements with Italian bandits.

      BEAUCHAMP

      Bah! There are no Italian bandits.

      DEBRAY

      No vampires!

      BEAUCHAMP

      No Count de Monte Cristo! And the proof, my dear friend, is that the clock’s striking 10:30.

      CHÂTEAUBRUN

      Admit you are having a nightmare, and let’s go to lunch.