addressing his landlord, "since we are both ready, do you think we may
proceed at once to visit the Count of Monte Cristo?"
"Most assuredly," replied he. "The Count of Monte Cristo is always an
early riser; and I can answer for his having been up these two hours."
"Then you really consider we shall not be intruding if we pay our
respects to him directly?"
"Oh, I am quite sure. I will take all the blame on myself if you find I
have led you into an error."
"Well, then, if it be so, are you ready, Albert?"
"Perfectly."
"Let us go and return our best thanks for his courtesy."
"Yes, let us do so." The landlord preceded the friends across the
landing, which was all that separated them from the apartments of the
count, rang at the bell, and, upon the door being opened by a servant,
said, "I signori Francesi."
The domestic bowed respectfully, and invited them to enter. They passed
through two rooms, furnished in a luxurious manner they had not expected
to see under the roof of Signor Pastrini, and were shown into an
elegantly fitted-up drawing-room. The richest Turkey carpets covered
the floor, and the softest and most inviting couches, easy-chairs, and
sofas, offered their high-piled and yielding cushions to such as desired
repose or refreshment. Splendid paintings by the first masters were
ranged against the walls, intermingled with magnificent trophies of
war, while heavy curtains of costly tapestry were suspended before the
different doors of the room. "If your excellencies will please to be
seated," said the man, "I will let the count know that you are here."
And with these words he disappeared behind one of the tapestried
portieres. As the door opened, the sound of a guzla reached the ears of
the young men, but was almost immediately lost, for the rapid closing
of the door merely allowed one rich swell of harmony to enter. Franz
and Albert looked inquiringly at each other, then at the gorgeous
furnishings of the apartment. Everything seemed more magnificent at a
second view than it had done at their first rapid survey.
"Well," said Franz to his friend, "what think you of all this?"
"Why, upon my soul, my dear fellow, it strikes me that our elegant and
attentive neighbor must either be some successful stock-jobber who has
speculated in the fall of the Spanish funds, or some prince travelling
incog."
"Hush, hush!" replied Franz; "we shall ascertain who and what he is--he
comes!" As Franz spoke, he heard the sound of a door turning on its
hinges, and almost immediately afterwards the tapestry was drawn aside,
and the owner of all these riches stood before the two young men. Albert
instantly rose to meet him, but Franz remained, in a manner, spellbound
on his chair; for in the person of him who had just entered he
recognized not only the mysterious visitant to the Colosseum, and the
occupant of the box at the Teatro Argentino, but also his extraordinary
host of Monte Cristo.
Chapter 35. La Mazzolata.
"Gentlemen," said the Count of Monte Cristo as he entered, "I pray you
excuse me for suffering my visit to be anticipated; but I feared to
disturb you by presenting myself earlier at your apartments; besides,
you sent me word that you would come to me, and I have held myself at
your disposal."
"Franz and I have to thank you a thousand times, count," returned
Albert; "you extricated us from a great dilemma, and we were on
the point of inventing a very fantastic vehicle when your friendly
invitation reached us."
"Indeed," returned the count, motioning the two young men to sit down.
"It was the fault of that blockhead Pastrini, that I did not sooner
assist you in your distress. He did not mention a syllable of your
embarrassment to me, when he knows that, alone and isolated as I am, I
seek every opportunity of making the acquaintance of my neighbors. As
soon as I learned I could in any way assist you, I most eagerly seized
the opportunity of offering my services." The two young men bowed. Franz
had, as yet, found nothing to say; he had come to no determination,
and as nothing in the count's manner manifested the wish that he should
recognize him, he did not know whether to make any allusion to the past,
or wait until he had more proof; besides, although sure it was he
who had been in the box the previous evening, he could not be equally
positive that this was the man he had seen at the Colosseum. He
resolved, therefore, to let things take their course without making any
direct overture to the count. Moreover, he had this advantage, he was
master of the count's secret, while the count had no hold on Franz, who
had nothing to conceal. However, he resolved to lead the conversation to
a subject which might possibly clear up his doubts.
"Count," said he, "you have offered us places in your carriage, and at
your windows in the Rospoli Palace. Can you tell us where we can obtain
a sight of the Piazza del Popolo?"
"Ah," said the count negligently, looking attentively at Morcerf, "is
there not something like an execution upon the Piazza del Popolo?"
"Yes," returned Franz, finding that the count was coming to the point he
wished.
"Stay, I think I told my steward yesterday to attend to this; perhaps I
can render you this slight service also." He extended his hand, and rang
the bell thrice. "Did you ever occupy yourself," said he to Franz, "with
the employment of time and the means of simplifying the summoning your
servants? I have. When I ring once, it is for my valet; twice, for my
majordomo; thrice, for my steward,--thus I do not waste a minute or a
word. Here he is." A man of about forty-five or fifty entered, exactly
resembling the smuggler who had introduced Franz into the cavern; but
he did not appear to recognize him. It was evident he had his orders.
"Monsieur Bertuccio," said the count, "you have procured me windows
looking on the Piazza del Popolo, as I ordered you yesterday."
"Yes, excellency," returned the steward; "but it was very late."
"Did I not tell you I wished for one?" replied the count, frowning.
"And your excellency has one, which was let to Prince Lobanieff; but I
was obliged to pay a hundred"--
"That will do--that will do, Monsieur Bertuccio; spare these gentlemen
all such domestic arrangements. You have the window, that is sufficient.
Give orders to the coachman; and be in readiness on the stairs to
conduct us to it." The steward bowed, and was about to quit the room.
"Ah," continued the count, "be good enough to ask Pastrini if he
has received the tavoletta, and if he can send us an account of the
execution."
"There is no need to do that," said Franz, taking out his tablets; "for
I saw the account, and copied it down."
"Very well, you can retire, M. Bertuccio; but let us know when breakfast
is ready. These gentlemen," added he, turning to the two friends, "will,
I trust, do me the honor to breakfast with me?"
"But, my dear count," said Albert, "we shall abuse your kindness."
"Not at all; on the contrary, you will give me great pleasure. You
will, one or other of you, perhaps both, return it to me at Paris. M.
Bertuccio, lay covers for three." He then took Franz's tablets out of
his hand. "'We announce,' he read, in the same tone with which he
would have read a newspaper, 'that to-day, the 23d of February, will be
executed Andrea Rondolo, guilty of murder on the person of the respected
and venerated Don Cesare Torlini, canon of the church of St. John
Lateran, and Peppino, called Rocca Priori, convicted of complicity with
the detestable bandit Luigi Vampa, and the men of his band.' Hum! 'The
first will be mazzolato, the second decapitato.' Yes," continued
the count, "it was at first arranged in this way; but I think since
yesterday some change has taken place in the order of the ceremony."
"Really?" said Franz.
"Yes, I passed the evening at the Cardinal Rospigliosi's, and there
mention was made of something like a pardon for one of the two men."
"For Andrea Rondolo?" asked Franz.
"No," replied the count, carelessly; "for the other (he glanced at the
tablets as if to recall the name), for Peppino, called Rocca Priori. You
are thus deprived of seeing a man guillotined; but the mazzuola still
remains, which is a very curious punishment when seen for the first
time, and even the second, while the other, as you must know, is very
simple. The mandaia [*] never fails, never trembles, never strikes thirty
times ineffectually, like the soldier who beheaded the Count of Chalais,
and to whose tender mercy Richelieu had doubtless recommended the
sufferer. Ah," added the count, in a contemptuous tone, "do not tell me
of European punishments, they are in the infancy, or rather the old age,
of cruelty."
* Guillotine.
"Really, count," replied Franz, "one would think that you had studied
the different tortures of all the nations of the world."
"There are, at least, few that I have not seen," said the count coldly.
"And you took pleasure in beholding these dreadful spectacles?"
"My first sentiment was horror, the second indifference, the third
curiosity."
"Curiosity--that is a terrible word."
"Why so? In life, our greatest preoccupation is death; is it not then,
curious to study the different ways by which the soul and body can part;
and how, according to their different characters, temperaments, and even
the different customs of their countries, different persons bear the
transition from life to death, from existence to annihilation? As for
myself, I can assure you of one thing,--the more men you see die, the
easier it becomes to die yourself; and in my opinion, death may be a
torture, but it is not an expiation."
"I do not quite understand you," replied Franz; "pray explain your
meaning, for you excite my curiosity to the highest pitch."
"Listen," said the count, and deep hatred mounted to his face, as the
blood would to the face of any other. "If a man had by unheard-of
and excruciating tortures destroyed your father, your mother, your
betrothed,--a being who, when torn from you, left a desolation, a wound
that never closes, in your breast,--do you think the reparation that
society gives you is sufficient when it interposes the knife of the
guillotine between the base of the occiput and the trapezal muscles of
the murderer, and allows him who has caused us years of moral sufferings
to escape with a few moments of physical pain?"
"Yes, I know," said Franz, "that human justice is insufficient to
console us; she can give blood in return for blood, that is all; but you
must demand from her only what it is in her power to grant."
"I will put another case to you," continued the count; "that where
society, attacked by the death of a person, avenges death by death. But
are there not a thousand tortures by which a man may be made to suffer
without society taking the least cognizance of them, or offering him
even the insufficient means of vengeance, of which we have just spoken?
Are there not crimes for which the impalement of the Turks, the augers
of the Persians, the stake and the brand of the Iroquois Indians, are
inadequate tortures, and which are unpunished by society? Answer me, do
not these crimes exist?"
"Yes," answered Franz; "and it is to punish them that duelling is
tolerated."
"Ah, duelling," cried the count; "a pleasant manner, upon my soul, of
arriving at your end when that end is vengeance! A man has carried off
your mistress, a man has seduced your wife, a man has dishonored your
daughter; he has rendered the whole life of one who had the right to
expect from heaven that portion of happiness God his promised to every
one of his creatures, an existence of misery and infamy; and you think
you are avenged because you send a ball through the head, or pass a
sword through the breast, of that man who has planted madness in your
brain, and despair in your heart. And remember, moreover, that it is
often he who comes off victorious from the strife, absolved of all crime
in the eyes of the world. No, no," continued the count, "had I to avenge
myself, it is not thus I would take revenge."
"Then you disapprove of duelling? You would not fight a duel?" asked
Albert in his turn, astonished at this strange theory.
"Oh, yes," replied the count; "understand me, I would fight a duel for
a trifle, for an insult, for a blow; and the more so that, thanks to
my skill in all bodily exercises, and the indifference to danger I have
gradually acquired, I should be almost certain to kill my man. Oh,
I would fight for such a cause; but in return for a slow, profound,
eternal torture, I would give back the same, were it possible; an eye
for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, as the Orientalists say,--our masters
in everything,--those favored creatures who have formed for themselves a
life of dreams and a paradise of realities."
"But," said Franz to the count, "with this theory, which renders you at
once judge and executioner of your own cause, it would be difficult to
adopt a course that would forever prevent your falling under the power
of the law. Hatred is blind, rage carries you away; and he who pours out
vengeance runs the risk of tasting a bitter draught."
"Yes, if he be poor and inexperienced, not if he be rich and skilful;
besides, the worst that could happen to him would be the punishment
of which we have already spoken, and which the philanthropic French
