World Literature Classics Library: The Count of Monte Cristo

Chapter 213 September 10th (5)
At around 6 o'clock in the evening, the sky was vast, and the brilliant autumn sun pierced through the white mist, casting golden rays of light on the blue and shining sea.The heat wave of the day gradually dissipated, and the sea has begun to feel the breeze, as if it is the breath of nature, as if nature is waking up after a hot noon nap.This refreshing breath brings coolness to the Mediterranean coast, and also sends the fragrance of trees and the fishy smell of the sea to one beach after another.On this vast lake from Gibraltar to Danil, from Tunis to Venice, a light speedboat with simple and elegant shape is gliding in the early twilight.Like a swan with its wings spreading against the wind, the yacht is light and fast, sailing forward lightly, only to see fluorescent water waves behind the ship.Gradually, the setting sun that we just ushered in hangs down and disappears on the western horizon, but as if to prove that the beautiful stories in the myth are not just illusions, the afterglow of the setting sun is shining brilliantly on the top of the surging waves, as if in Reveal to the people that the god of fire has slipped into the arms of Amphitrite, and the goddess of the sea will only disturb her lover in her azure cloak.

The yacht moved forward nimbly, but from a distance, the curly hair of the girl on the yacht was not disturbed by the sea breeze blowing in front of her.Standing on the bow of the boat was a tall man with a dark complexion. He was looking at the approaching islands and reefs with wide eyes. In the vast expanse of waves, this huge black cone-like monster was like a gigantic Kata Lunian hat.

"Is the island of Monte Cristo ahead?" asked the standing man, in a dull and gloomy voice, and it seemed that the yacht was now at his command for the time being.

"Yes, sir," replied the captain, "we have arrived."

"We're here!" the man murmured, always with an indescribable sadness in his voice, and then he whispered, "Yes, that's a small harbor." There was a wry smile more miserable than tears.

A few minutes later, there was a fleeting flash of fire on the island, and a gunshot followed by the speedboat.

"Your Excellency," said the captain, "this is a signal from the island. Do you want to answer the signal yourself?"

"What signal?" the man asked.

The captain stretched out his hand and pointed towards the small island. Sure enough, there was a solitary wisp of white smoke on the edge of the island, which was slowly dissipating.

"Ah! Yes," said the man, as if waking from a dream, "give it to me."

The captain handed him the loaded musket, and the man took it, raised it slowly, and fired a shot into the sky. Ten minutes later, all the sails on the speedboat were furled, and anchored on the sea 10 steps away from the small harbor.The rowboat had already been put on the sea surface. There were four oarsmen and a helmsman on board, and the man also boarded the rowboat.A blue felt blanket had been spread over the stern of the boat, which had been specially laid out for the man, but he did not sit down, but just stood with his arms folded across his chest.The four oarsmen waited with their oars tilted up slightly, which looked like four seabirds spreading their wings to dry their feathers.

"Let's go!" said the man.

The eight oars plunged into the water at once, but there was no splash, and the rowboat moved forward quickly with this thrust.After a while, the rowboat sailed into a small harbor formed by the naturally concave coastline, and the bottom of the boat touched the fine sandy beach under the water.

"Sir," said the helmsman, "ride upon the shoulders of the two oarsmen who will carry you ashore."

The young man didn't answer the helmsman's words, but just waved his hands absently. He stepped out of the rowboat with his legs and slid into the waist-deep water.

"Oh, my lord," said the helmsman softly, "this is not good for you, the master will reprimand us."

The young man just walked towards the shore, and two sailors led the way in front of him, leading him from the shallow water.After walking 30 steps, they landed.The young man stomped his feet on a dry and hard ground, and looked around. He wanted to see what kind of road people would show him in a while, and it was completely dark at this time.When he was turning his head to look around, there was a hand on his shoulder, and he suddenly heard the voice of speaking, and he couldn't help being startled.

"Good day, Maximilian," said the voice, "you are on time, thank you."

"It is you, count," said the young man, with an air of joy, and he held out both his hands to Monte Cristo's.

"It's me, you see, I'm just as punctual as you, but you're drenched in water, my dear friend, you might as well be like Calypso, the nymph in ancient Greek mythology, the queen of the Isle of Ogia, Duceth (the Telemark in the Odyssey) was rescued by her after being shipwrecked and taken to live on the island for 10 years. Say something to the Telemark, you have to change your clothes Come here, here is a place ready for you to live in, and you will forget about fatigue and cold when you live here."

Monte Cristo saw Morrel turned back, and stopped to wait for him.The young man looked back and was very surprised. The people who brought him didn't say a word, and he didn't pay them anything, but they had already gone away.By this time the oars of the rowboat were already heard towards the yacht.

"Ah! so," said Monte Cristo, "you are looking for the sailors who brought you here?"

"Yes, I haven't given them any money yet, and they're gone."

"You don't mind this matter, Maximilian," said Monte Cristo, smiling, "I have already agreed with these people who live by the sea, that anyone who comes to my island will be free of charge. In civilized terms, I'm all booked."

Morrel looked at the count in amazement. "Count," said he, "you are not the same now as you were in Paris."

"how?"

"Really, here you are laughing."

Monte Cristo's brow darkened instantly. "You were right in reminding me, Maximilian," he said, "I am so glad to see you again, that I have forgotten that all happiness is fleeting."

"Oh! no, no, count!" cried Morrel, taking his friend's hands once more, "on the contrary, you should laugh, you should be happy, you, you should be at ease, and show me that only Life is worthless in the eyes of those who are lingering. Oh! You are so kind, so good, and so noble, my friend, you are so happy, it must be feigned, just to give me courage. .”

"You are mistaken, Morrel," said Monte Cristo; "I was really happy just now."

"Then it's all right if you forget me!"

"Why do you say that?"

"Yes, for you also know, my friend, that I also say to you, as the ancient warriors said to the supreme emperor when they entered the arena: 'He that dies salutes you.'"

"You are still so bitter?" asked Monte Cristo, looking at him strangely.

"Oh!" said Morrel, looking sadly at the count, "do you really think I shall forget this sorrow?"

"Listen," said the count, "you understand me, don't you, Maximilian? You don't think of me as an incompetent person, as someone who just babbles and talks nonsense. I ask if you are still so bitter in your heart, because I have insight into the secrets of people's hearts, so I say this. Oh! Morrel, let us go into the depths of your heart together and see what is going on It’s all right. Does this pain really make you feel restless and restless? Are you really like a lion that jumps wildly after being bitten by a mosquito? Does this thought of committing suicide have to go to the grave to disappear? Is it really a grudge? Is it only until death? Or is it simply that all hope is lost because of the loss of courage? Is it only because of the cloud of gloom that the ray of hope that could have flickered is drowned? Or is it because of the loss of Memory, can't even shed tears? Oh, my dear friend, if so, if you can no longer cry, if you feel that your numb heart is dead, if you have nothing but trust in God Faith, if you no longer look at anything but heaven, let us put aside words, friends, for words are not enough to express our hearts. Maximilian, your heart is no longer bitter It’s over, you don’t have to complain about others.”

"Count," said Morrel, in a tone that was gentle but firm, "count, please listen to me, and hear a few words from a man who points to the earth and looks at the sky. I have come to you to be able to To die in the arms of a friend. Of course, there are people I love in this world, I love my sister Julie, I love her husband Emmanuel, but I need someone to give to me in my last moments I spread my arms and could smile at me. My sister would cry and pass out and it would hurt me to see her like that. Emmanuel would take the gun from me and yell The whole family knew it. But you, count, you swore to me that you were not a man, and if your life had no end, I would say you were a god, and you would be meek Kindly walk me all the way to death's gate, eh?"

"My friend," said the count, "I still can't believe it. Are you so weak that you can only relieve the pain in your chest alone?"

"No, you see, I am as usual," said Morrel, holding out his hand to the count, "my pulse is as usual, neither too fast nor too slow. No, I just feel that my way is already over. The end. No, I will not go any further. You tell me to wait, to hope. You are an unfortunate sage, do you know what you have done? I waited a month, that is to say, I suffer It’s been a month! I’ve hoped too—how pitiful and despicable people are. I’ve hoped. What? I don’t know. It’s probably some kind of unknown, stupid, absurd thing. Some kind of miracle, maybe... But what kind of miracle? Only God knows, because it is God who has added to our intellect this madness we call hope. Yes, I Waited. Yes, I had hoped too, Count. We have been talking for a quarter of an hour now, and you did not mean to, but you have beaten my heart a hundred times, and tore it to pieces, because every word you said Words have shown me that there is no hope for me. O count! let me sleep in death comfortably and comfortably!"

When Morrel spoke the last sentence, his tone suddenly became sonorous and violent, and the count could not help but shudder.

"My friend," continued Morrel, noticing the count's silence, "you asked me to postpone until October 10th...my friend, today is October 5th..." Morrel took out the His watch "It's nine o'clock and I have three more hours to live."

"Well," said Monte Cristo, "you will come with me."

Morrel followed the count mechanically, and before he realized what was going on, he had already entered the grotto.He found that there was a carpet under his feet, and a door just opened, and the rich fragrance hit him head-on, and the bright lights dazzled him.He stopped in his tracks, hesitating and daring not to move forward, for fear that his determination would be shaken by indulging in such a comfortable and comfortable environment.

Monte Cristo gave him a gentle pull. "During these last three hours," said Monte Cristo, "we might as well be like those ancient Romans, whom the Emperor Nero ordered to die in order to seize their property, and they sat at a table covered with flowers, smelling Die with the scent of balsam and roses."

Morrel smiled. "As you will," he said, "death is always death, death is oblivion, rest, death is the end of life, and therefore the end of suffering."

Morrel sat down, and Monte Cristo sat down opposite him.We have already described the restaurant where they were at this time.The dining room was indeed magnificent and wonderful, and the baskets above the marble statues were always full of flowers and fruit.Although Morrel looked up, his gaze was so vacant that it was very likely that he saw nothing.

"Since we are men, we should have a good talk." Morrel said, looking closely at the count.

"You go ahead," replied the Count.

"Count," continued Morrel, "you are the sum of all human wisdom, and you give me the impression that you have come to our world from another world more mature than ours. smarter."

"You are right, Morrel," said the count, with a melancholy smile that made him look very handsome, "I come from a planet called Pain."

"I believe everything you say, and never ask what you mean, Count. So, you tell me to live, and I live, and you tell me to hope, and I may say I had hope. And now I would like to take the liberty of asking you, count, let me say that you have died once, count, is it painful to die?"

The count looked at Morrel with indescribable affection. "Yes," said the count, "death is painful indeed, if you break the shell with a sudden blow, for the shell cannot last forever, but its desire to live is stubborn. If you use a sharp knife Poke mercilessly into flesh and blood and it will scream and howl. If you let irrational, flying bullets into your brain, the brain that cannot withstand any impact will suffer .If so, of course you will suffer. When you end your life, you will feel that it is too abominable and sad, and when you are dying in despair, you will feel that peace is hard-won, but life is more precious."

"Well, I see," said Morrel, "that death, like life, has its secrets of pain and pleasure, and it is only a matter of penetrating them."

"Exactly, Maximilian, you have said the most brilliant words. Death is as good or as bad as we live with it. It can be our friend, it can lull us to sleep as tenderly as a nurse, it It can also be our enemy, brutally taking our souls from our bodies. One day, when our world is another millennium away, when human beings can harness the destructive forces of nature and make them work for the benefit of all mankind At that time, when human beings understand the secret of death as you just said, death will become a kind of comfortable enjoyment, just like sleeping peacefully in the arms of one's beloved.

"Then, if you wish to die, Count, you will die like this, will you not?"

"Yes."

Morrel held out his hand to the Count. "Now I understand," said Morrel, "the reason why you asked me to come here, to this isolated island in the depths of the vast sea, to this underground palace, to this tomb that the king of ancient Egypt envied, is that Because you love me, don't you, Count? It's because you love me so much that you're going to let me die as you said, that is, without pain in my heart, with the cry of Valentine, with my hands Holding your hand, is this the way to die?"

"Yes, you guessed it right, Morrel," said the count bluntly, "that's exactly what I think."

"Thank you. My poor heart can't help but feel sweet when I think that I won't suffer this pain tomorrow."

"Have you nothing to miss?" asked Monte Cristo.

"Yes," replied Morrel.

"Not even for me?" asked Monte Cristo, deeply moved.

Morrel was momentarily speechless.His crystal clear eyes suddenly became dim and lifeless, and then flickered strangely, two teardrops burst out of his sockets and rolled down, leaving two sparkling tear stains on his cheeks.

"What?" said the count, "you still have something in this world, and you want to die!"

"Oh, I beg you," said Morrel, in a voice that had grown very feeble, "stop talking, count, and stop torturing me like this."

The Count felt that Morrel had relented.This flash of thought of the count aroused again the dreadful suspicion, which was long since dispelled when he revisited the Château d'If.

"All I care about," thought the count, "is to restore happiness to him. I thought I had put a weight on one end of the scale, for I did see that the scales were used to weigh 'evil'. ' That plate weighed too heavily and sank. Now, if I'm mistaken, if his pain isn't enough for happiness, oh, what shall I do? I can forget the evil only by remembering the good again! " Then he said to Morrel: "Listen, Morrel! You have suffered a great deal, I can see that. But, after all, you believe in God, and you would not take so lightly the eternity of your soul. Bar."

Morrel smiled melancholy. "Count," said he, "I am not as poetic as I am, but I can swear to you that my soul is no longer mine."

"Listen, Morrel," said Monte Cristo, "I have no relatives in this world, as you know. I have always regarded you as my son. Well then! To save my son, I will I can sacrifice my life, but as for my property, that is even more so.”

"What do you mean?"

(End of this chapter)