Граф Монте-Кристо

A Nocturnal Interview.

           SinceGodhimselfdictatedthosewordstohisprophet,whyshouldIseektomakemyselfbetterthanGod?"

           "Edmond,"continuedMercedes,withherarmsextendedtowardsthecount,"sinceIfirstknewyou,Ihaveadoredyourname,haverespectedyourmemory.Edmond,myfriend,donotcompelmetotarnishthatnobleandpureimagereflectedincessantlyonthemirrorofmyheart.Edmond,ifyouknewalltheprayersIhaveaddressedtoGodforyouwhileIthoughtyouwerelivingandsinceIhavethoughtyoumustbedead!Yes,dead,alas!Iimaginedyourdeadbodyburiedatthefootofsomegloomytower,orcasttothebottomofapitbyhatefuljailers,andIwept!WhatcouldIdoforyou,Edmond,besidesprayandweep?Listen;fortenyearsIdreamedeachnightthesamedream.Ihadbeentoldthatyouhadendeavoredtoescape;thatyouhadtakentheplaceofanotherprisoner;thatyouhadslippedintothewindingsheetofadeadbody;thatyouhadbeenthrownalivefromthetopoftheChateaud’If,andthatthecryyouutteredasyoudashedupontherocksfirstrevealedtoyourjailersthattheywereyourmurderers.Well,Edmond,Isweartoyou,bytheheadofthatsonforwhomIentreatyourpityEdmond,fortenyearsIsaweverynighteverydetailofthatfrightfultragedy,andfortenyearsIheardeverynightthecrywhichawokeme,shudderingandcold.

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Страница 1545 из 1932