Граф Монте-Кристо

The Cemetery of Pere-la-Chaise.

           "

           "Well,"saidMorrel,changinghisexpressionofcalmnessforoneofviolence—"well,andifIdointendtoturnthispistolagainstmyself,whoshallpreventmewhowilldarepreventme?Allmyhopesareblighted,myheartisbroken,mylifeaburden,everythingaroundmeissadandmournful;earthhasbecomedistastefultome,andhumanvoicesdistractme.Itisamercytoletmedie,forifIliveIshalllosemyreasonandbecomemad.When,sir,Itellyouallthiswithtearsofheartfeltanguish,canyoureplythatIamwrong,canyoupreventmyputtinganendtomymiserableexistence?Tellme,sir,couldyouhavethecouragetodoso?"

           "Yes,Morrel,"saidMonteCristo,withacalmnesswhichcontrastedstrangelywiththeyoungman’sexcitement;"yes,Iwoulddoso."

           "You?"exclaimedMorrel,withincreasingangerandreproach—"you,whohavedeceivedmewithfalsehopes,whohavecheeredandsoothedmewithvainpromises,whenImight,ifnothavesavedher,atleasthaveseenherdieinmyarms!You,whopretendtounderstandeverything,eventhehiddensourcesofknowledgeandwhoenactthepartofaguardianangeluponearth,andcouldnotevenfindanantidotetoapoisonadministeredtoayounggirl!Ah,sir,indeedyouwouldinspiremewithpity,wereyounothatefulinmyeyes.

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