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The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas, Chapter 15. Number 34 and Number 27 (2)

Chapter 15. Number 34 and Number 27 (2)

Rage supplanted religious fervor. Dantes uttered blasphemies that made his jailer recoil with horror, dashed himself furiously against the walls of his prison, wreaked his anger upon everything, and chiefly upon himself, so that the least thing,--a grain of sand, a straw, or a breath of air that annoyed him, led to paroxysms of fury. Then the letter that Villefort had showed to him recurred to his mind, and every line gleamed forth in fiery letters on the wall like the mene tekel upharsin of Belshazzar. He told himself that it was the enmity of man, and not the vengeance of heaven, that had thus plunged him into the deepest misery. He consigned his unknown persecutors to the most horrible tortures he could imagine, and found them all insufficient, because after torture came death, and after death, if not repose, at least the boon of unconsciousness.

By dint of constantly dwelling on the idea that tranquillity was death, and if punishment were the end in view other tortures than death must be invented, he began to reflect on suicide. Unhappy he, who, on the brink of misfortune, broods over ideas like these!

Before him is a dead sea that stretches in azure calm before the eye; but he who unwarily ventures within its embrace finds himself struggling with a monster that would drag him down to perdition. Once thus ensnared, unless the protecting hand of God snatch him thence, all is over, and his struggles but tend to hasten his destruction. This state of mental anguish is, however, less terrible than the sufferings that precede or the punishment that possibly will follow. There is a sort of consolation at the contemplation of the yawning abyss, at the bottom of which lie darkness and obscurity.

Edmond found some solace in these ideas. All his sorrows, all his sufferings, with their train of gloomy spectres, fled from his cell when the angel of death seemed about to enter. Dantes reviewed his past life with composure, and, looking forward with terror to his future existence, chose that middle line that seemed to afford him a refuge.

"Sometimes," said he, "in my voyages, when I was a man and commanded other men, I have seen the heavens overcast, the sea rage and foam, the storm arise, and, like a monstrous bird, beating the two horizons with its wings. Then I felt that my vessel was a vain refuge, that trembled and shook before the tempest. Soon the fury of the waves and the sight of the sharp rocks announced the approach of death, and death then terrified me, and I used all my skill and intelligence as a man and a sailor to struggle against the wrath of God. But I did so because I was happy, because I had not courted death, because to be cast upon a bed of rocks and seaweed seemed terrible, because I was unwilling that I, a creature made for the service of God, should serve for food to the gulls and ravens. But now it is different; I have lost all that bound me to life, death smiles and invites me to repose; I die after my own manner, I die exhausted and broken-spirited, as I fall asleep when I have paced three thousand times round my cell." No sooner had this idea taken possession of him than he became more composed, arranged his couch to the best of his power, ate little and slept less, and found existence almost supportable, because he felt that he could throw it off at pleasure, like a worn-out garment. Two methods of self-destruction were at his disposal. He could hang himself with his handkerchief to the window bars, or refuse food and die of starvation. But the first was repugnant to him. Dantes had always entertained the greatest horror of pirates, who are hung up to the yard-arm; he would not die by what seemed an infamous death. He resolved to adopt the second, and began that day to carry out his resolve. Nearly four years had passed away; at the end of the second he had ceased to mark the lapse of time.

Dantes said, "I wish to die," and had chosen the manner of his death, and fearful of changing his mind, he had taken an oath to die. "When my morning and evening meals are brought," thought he, "I will cast them out of the window, and they will think that I have eaten them."


Chapter 15. Number 34 and Number 27 (2) Capítulo 15. Número 34 y número 27 (2)

Rage supplanted religious fervor. Dantes uttered blasphemies that made his jailer recoil with horror, dashed himself furiously against the walls of his prison, wreaked his anger upon everything, and chiefly upon himself, so that the least thing,--a grain of sand, a straw, or a breath of air that annoyed him, led to paroxysms of fury. Dantès proféra des blasphèmes qui firent reculer d'horreur son geôlier, se précipita furieusement contre les murs de sa prison, attira sa colère sur tout, et surtout sur lui-même, de sorte que la moindre chose, un grain de sable, une paille ou un souffle d'air qui l'agaçait, le conduisait à des accès de fureur. Then the letter that Villefort had showed to him recurred to his mind, and every line gleamed forth in fiery letters on the wall like the mene tekel upharsin of Belshazzar. Alors la lettre que Villefort lui avait montrée lui revint à l'esprit, et chaque ligne brillait en lettres de feu sur le mur comme le mene tekel upharsin de Belshazzar. He told himself that it was the enmity of man, and not the vengeance of heaven, that had thus plunged him into the deepest misery. He consigned his unknown persecutors to the most horrible tortures he could imagine, and found them all insufficient, because after torture came death, and after death, if not repose, at least the boon of unconsciousness. Il livra ses persécuteurs inconnus aux tortures les plus horribles qu'il pût imaginer, et les trouva toutes insuffisantes, parce qu'après la torture venait la mort, et après la mort, sinon le repos, du moins le bienfait de l'inconscience.

By dint of constantly dwelling on the idea that tranquillity was death, and if punishment were the end in view other tortures than death must be invented, he began to reflect on suicide. A force de s'attarder sans cesse sur l'idée que la tranquillité était la mort, et si le châtiment était en vue d'autres tortures que la mort devaient être inventées, il se mit à réfléchir sur le suicide. Unhappy he, who, on the brink of misfortune, broods over ideas like these! Malheureux lui qui, au bord du malheur, rumine des idées comme celles-là !

Before him is a dead sea that stretches in azure calm before the eye; but he who unwarily ventures within its embrace finds himself struggling with a monster that would drag him down to perdition. Devant lui est une mer morte qui s'étend dans un calme azur devant les yeux ; mais celui qui s'aventure imprudemment dans son étreinte se retrouve aux prises avec un monstre qui l'entraînerait à la perdition. Once thus ensnared, unless the protecting hand of God snatch him thence, all is over, and his struggles but tend to hasten his destruction. Une fois ainsi pris au piège, à moins que la main protectrice de Dieu ne l'en arrache, tout est fini, et ses luttes tendent à hâter sa destruction. This state of mental anguish is, however, less terrible than the sufferings that precede or the punishment that possibly will follow. There is a sort of consolation at the contemplation of the yawning abyss, at the bottom of which lie darkness and obscurity. Il y a une sorte de consolation à la contemplation de l'abîme béant, au fond duquel se trouvent les ténèbres et l'obscurité.

Edmond found some solace in these ideas. All his sorrows, all his sufferings, with their train of gloomy spectres, fled from his cell when the angel of death seemed about to enter. Toutes ses peines, toutes ses souffrances, avec leur cortège de sombres spectres, s'enfuirent de sa cellule quand l'ange de la mort parut sur le point d'entrer. Dantes reviewed his past life with composure, and, looking forward with terror to his future existence, chose that middle line that seemed to afford him a refuge.

"Sometimes," said he, "in my voyages, when I was a man and commanded other men, I have seen the heavens overcast, the sea rage and foam, the storm arise, and, like a monstrous bird, beating the two horizons with its wings. « Parfois, dit-il, dans mes voyages, quand j'étais un homme et que je commandais à d'autres hommes, j'ai vu le ciel se couvrir, la mer rager et écumer, la tempête se lever, et, comme un oiseau monstrueux, battre les deux horizons. avec ses ailes. Then I felt that my vessel was a vain refuge, that trembled and shook before the tempest. Soon the fury of the waves and the sight of the sharp rocks announced the approach of death, and death then terrified me, and I used all my skill and intelligence as a man and a sailor to struggle against the wrath of God. But I did so because I was happy, because I had not courted death, because to be cast upon a bed of rocks and seaweed seemed terrible, because I was unwilling that I, a creature made for the service of God, should serve for food to the gulls and ravens. Mais je l'ai fait parce que j'étais heureux, parce que je n'avais pas courtisé la mort, parce qu'être jeté sur un lit de rochers et d'algues semblait terrible, parce que je ne voulais pas que moi, une créature faite pour le service de Dieu, je serve de nourriture aux mouettes et aux corbeaux. But now it is different; I have lost all that bound me to life, death smiles and invites me to repose; I die after my own manner, I die exhausted and broken-spirited, as I fall asleep when I have paced three thousand times round my cell." Mais maintenant c'est différent; J'ai perdu tout ce qui me liait à la vie, la mort sourit et m'invite au repos ; Je meurs à ma manière, je meurs épuisé et l'esprit brisé, comme je m'endors après avoir fait trois mille fois le tour de ma cellule." No sooner had this idea taken possession of him than he became more composed, arranged his couch to the best of his power, ate little and slept less, and found existence almost supportable, because he felt that he could throw it off at pleasure, like a worn-out garment. A peine cette idée s'était-il emparé de lui qu'il devint plus calme, arrangea sa couche de son mieux, mangea peu et dormit moins, et trouva l'existence presque supportable, parce qu'il sentit qu'il pouvait s'en débarrasser à plaisir, comme un vêtement usé. Two methods of self-destruction were at his disposal. He could hang himself with his handkerchief to the window bars, or refuse food and die of starvation. But the first was repugnant to him. Dantes had always entertained the greatest horror of pirates, who are hung up to the yard-arm; he would not die by what seemed an infamous death. Dantès avait toujours eu la plus grande horreur des pirates, qui sont suspendus à la vergue ; il ne mourrait pas de ce qui semblait être une mort infâme. He resolved to adopt the second, and began that day to carry out his resolve. Nearly four years had passed away; at the end of the second he had ceased to mark the lapse of time.

Dantes said, "I wish to die," and had chosen the manner of his death, and fearful of changing his mind, he had taken an oath to die. "When my morning and evening meals are brought," thought he, "I will cast them out of the window, and they will think that I have eaten them."