IT WAS really the Count of Monte Cristo who had just arrived at Madame de Villefort's for the purpose of returning the procureur's visit, and at his name, as may be easily imagined, the whole house was in confusion. Madame de Villefort, who was alone in her drawing-room when the count was announced, desired that her son might be brought thither instantly to renew his thanks to the count; and Edward, who heard this great personage talked of for two whole days, made all possible haste to come to him, not from obedience to his mother, or out of any feeling of gratitude to the count, but from sheer curiosity, and that some chance remark might give him the opportunity for making one of the impertinent speeches which made his mother say,--"Oh, that naughty child! But I can't be severe with him, he is really so bright."

After the usual civilities, the count inquired after M. de Villefort. "My husband dines with the chancellor," replied the young lady; "he has just gone, and I am sure he'll be exceedingly sorry not to have had the pleasure of seeing you before he went." Two visitors who were there when the count arrived, having gazed at him with all their eyes, retired after that reasonable delay which politeness admits and curiosity requires. "What is your sister Valentine doing?" inquired Madame de Villefort of Edward; "tell some one to bid her come here, that I may have the honor of introducing her to the count."

"You have a daughter, then, madame?" inquired the count; "very young, I presume?"

"The daughter of M. de Villefort by his first marriage," replied the young wife, "a fine well-grown girl."

"But melancholy," interrupted Master Edward, snatching the feathers out of the tail of a splendid parroquet that was screaming on its gilded perch, in order to make a plume for his hat. Madame de Villefort merely cried,--"Be still, Edward!" She then added,--"This young madcap is, however, very nearly right, and merely re-echoes what he has heard me say with pain a hundred times; for Mademoiselle de Villefort is, in spite of all we can do to rouse her, of a melancholy disposition and taciturn habit, which frequently injure the effect of her beauty. But what detains her? Go, Edward, and see."

"Because they are looking for her where she is not to be found."

"And where are they looking for her?"

"With grandpapa Noirtier."

"And do you think she is not there?"

"No, no, no, no, no, she is not there," replied Edward, singing his words.

"And where is she, then? If you know, why don't you tell?"

"She is under the big chestnut-tree," replied the spoiled brat, as he gave, in spite of his mother's commands, live flies to the parrot, which seemed keenly to relish such fare. Madame de Villefort stretched out her hand to ring, intending to direct her waiting-maid to the spot where she would find Valentine, when the young lady herself entered the apartment. She appeared much dejected; and any person who considered her attentively might have observed the traces of recent tears in her eyes.

Valentine, whom we have in the rapid march of our narrative presented to our readers without formally introducing her, was a tall and graceful girl of nineteen, with bright chestnut hair, deep blue eyes, and that reposeful air of quiet distinction which characterized her mother. Her white and slender fingers, her pearly neck, her cheeks tinted with varying hues reminded one of the lovely Englishwomen who have been so poetically compared in their manner to the gracefulness of a swan. She entered the apartment, and seeing near her stepmother the stranger of whom she had already heard so much, saluted him without any girlish awkwardness, or even lowering her eyes, and with an elegance that redoubled the count's attention. He rose to return the salutation. "Mademoiselle de Villefort, my daughter-in-law," said Madame de Villefort to Monte Cristo, leaning back on her sofa and motioning towards Valentine with her hand. "And M. de Monte Cristo, King of China, Emperor of Cochin-China," said the young imp, looking slyly towards his sister.

Madame de Villefort at this really did turn pale, and was very nearly angry with this household plague, who answered to the name of Edward; but the count, on the contrary, smiled, and appeared to look at the boy complacently, which caused the maternal heart to bound again with joy and enthusiasm.

"But, madame," replied the count, continuing the conversation, and looking by turns at Madame de Villefort and Valentine, "have I not already had the honor of meeting yourself and mademoiselle before? I could not help thinking so just now; the idea came over my mind, and as mademoiselle entered the sight of her was an additional ray of light thrown on a confused remembrance; excuse the remark."

"I do not think it likely, sir; Mademoiselle de Villefort is not very fond of society, and we very seldom go out," said the young lady.

"Then it was not in society that I met with mademoiselle or yourself, madame, or this charming little merry boy. Besides, the Parisian world is entirely unknown to me, for, as I believe I told you, I have been in Paris but very few days. No,--but, perhaps, you will permit me to call to mind--stay!" The Count placed his hand on his brow as if to collect his thoughts. "No--it was somewhere--away from here--it was--I do not know--but it appears that this recollection is connected with a lovely sky and some religious fête; mademoiselle was holding flowers in her hand, the interesting boy was chasing a beautiful peacock in a garden, and you, madame, were under the trellis of some arbor. Pray come to my aid, madame; do not these circumstances appeal to your memory?"

"No, indeed," replied Madame de Villefort; "and yet it appears to me, sir, that if I had met you anywhere, the recollection of you must have been imprinted on my memory."

"Perhaps the count saw us in Italy," said Valentine timidly.

"Yes, in Italy; it was in Italy most probably," replied Monte Cristo; "you have travelled then in Italy, mademoiselle?"

"Yes; madame and I were there two years ago. The doctors, anxious for my lungs, had prescribed the air of Naples. We went by Bologna, Perugia, and Rome."

"Ah, yes--true, mademoiselle," exclaimed Monte Cristo as if this simple explanation was sufficient to revive the recollection he sought. "It was at Perugia on Corpus Christi Day, in the garden of the H?tel des Postes, when chance brought us together; you, Madame de Villefort, and her son; I now remember having had the honor of meeting you."

"I perfectly well remember Perugia, sir, and the H?tel des Postes, and the festival of which you speak," said Madame de Villefort, "but in vain do I tax my memory, of whose treachery I am ashamed, for I really do not recall to mind that I ever had the pleasure of seeing you before."

"It is strange, but neither do I recollect meeting with you," observed Valentine, raising her beautiful eyes to the count.

"But I remember it perfectly," interposed the darling Edward.

"I will assist your memory, madame," continued the count; "the day had been burning hot; you were waiting for horses, which were delayed in consequence of the festival. Mademoiselle was walking in the shade of the garden, and your son disappeared in pursuit of the peacock."

"And I caught it, mamma, don't you remember?" interposed Edward, "and I pulled three such beautiful feathers out of his tail."

"You, madame, remained under the arbor; do you not remember, that while you were seated on a stone bench, and while, as I told you, Mademoiselle de Villefort and your young son were absent, you conversed for a considerable time with somebody?"

"Yes, in truth, yes," answered the young lady, turning very red, "I do remember conversing with a person wrapped in a long woollen mantle; he was a medical man, I think."

"Precisely so, madame; this man was myself; for a fortnight I had been at that hotel, during which period I had cured my valet de chambre of a fever, and my landlord of the jaundice, so that I really acquired a reputation as a skilful physician. We discoursed a long time, madame, on different subjects; of Perugino, of Raffaelle, of manners, customs, of the famous aquatofana, of which they had told you, I think you said, that certain individuals in Perugia had preserved the secret."

"Yes, true," replied Madame de Villefort, somewhat uneasily, "I remember now."

"I do not recollect now all the various subjects of which we discoursed, madame," continued the count with perfect calmness; "but I perfectly remember that, falling into the error which others had entertained respecting me, you consulted me as to the health of Mademoiselle de Villefort."

"Yes, really, sir, you were in fact a medical man," said Madame de Villefort, "since you had cured the sick."

"Molière or Beaumarchais would reply to you, madame, that it was precisely because I was not, that I had cured my patients; for myself, I am content to say to you that I have studied chemistry and the natural sciences somewhat deeply, but still only as an amateur, you understand."--At this moment the clock struck six. "It is six o'clock," said Madame de Villefort, evidently agitated. "Valentine, will you not go and see if your grandpapa will have his dinner?" Valentine rose, and saluting the count, left the apartment without speaking.

"Oh, madame," said the count, when Valentine had left the room, "was it on my account that you sent Mademoiselle de Villefort away?"

"By no means," replied the young lady quickly; "but this is the hour when we usually give M. Noirtier the unwelcome meal that sustains his pitiful existence. You are aware, sir, of the deplorable condition of my husband's father?"

"Yes, madame, M. de Villefort spoke of it to me--a paralysis, I think."

"Alas, yes; the poor old gentleman is entirely helpless; the mind alone is still active in this human machine, and that is faint and flickering, like the light of a lamp about to expire. But excuse me, sir, for talking of our domestic misfortunes; I interrupted you at the moment when you were telling me that you were a skilful chemist."

"No, madame, I did not say as much as that," replied the count with a smile; "quite the contrary. I have studied chemistry because, having determined to live in eastern climates I have been desirous of following the example of King Mithridates."

"Mithridates, rex Ponticus," said the young scamp, as he tore some beautiful portraits out of a splendid album, "the individual who took cream in his cup of poison every morning at breakfast."

"Edward, you naughty boy," exclaimed Madame de Villefort, snatching the mutilated book from the urchin's grasp, "you are positively past bearing; you really disturb the conversation; go, leave us, and join your sister Valentine in dear grandpapa Noirtier's room."

"The album," said Edward sulkily.

"What do you mean?--the album!"

"I want the album."

"How dare you tear out the drawings?"

"Oh, it amuses me."

"Go--go at once."

"I won't go unless you give me the album," said the boy, seating himself doggedly in an arm-chair, according to his habit of never giving way.

"Take it, then, and pray disturb us no longer," said Madame de Villefort, giving the album to Edward, who then went towards the door, led by his mother. The count followed her with his eyes.

"Let us see if she shuts the door after him," he muttered. Madame de Villefort closed the door carefully after the child, the count appearing not to notice her; then casting a scrutinizing glance around the chamber, the young wife returned to her chair, in which she seated herself. "Allow me to observe, madame," said the count, with that kind tone he could assume so well, "you are really very severe with that dear clever child."

"Oh, sometimes severity is quite necessary," replied Madame de Villefort, with all a mother's real firmness.

"It was his Cornelius Nepos that Master Edward was repeating when he referred to King Mithridates," continued the count, "and you interrupted him in a quotation which proves that his tutor has by no means neglected him, for your son is really advanced for his years."

"The fact is, count," answered the mother, agreeably flattered, "he has great aptitude, and learns all that is set before him. He has but one fault, he is somewhat wilful; but really, on referring for the moment to what he said, do you truly believe that Mithridates used these precautions, and that these precautions were efficacious?"

"I think so, madame, because I myself have made use of them, that I might not be poisoned at Naples, at Palermo, and at Smyrna--that is to say, on three several occasions when, but for these precautions, I must have lost my life."

"And your precautions were successful?"

"Completely so."

"Yes, I remember now your mentioning to me at Perugia something of this sort."

"Indeed?" said the count with an air of surprise, remarkably well counterfeited; "I really did not remember."

"I inquired of you if poisons acted equally, and with the same effect, on men of the North as on men of the South; and you answered me that the cold and sluggish habits of the North did not present the same aptitude as the rich and energetic temperaments of the natives of the South."

"And that is the case," observed Monte Cristo. "I have seen Russians devour, without being visibly inconvenienced, vegetable substances which would infallibly have killed a Neapolitan or an Arab."

"And you really believe the result would be still more sure with us than in the East, and in the midst of our fogs and rains a man would habituate himself more easily than in a warm latitude to this progressive absorption of poison?"

"Certainly; it being at the same time perfectly understood that he should have been duly fortified against the poison to which he had not been accustomed."

"Yes, I understand that; and how would you habituate yourself, for instance, or rather, how did you habituate yourself to it?"

"Oh, very easily. Suppose you knew beforehand the poison that would be made use of against you; suppose the poison was, for instance, brucine"--

"Brucine is extracted from the false angostura [1] is it not?" inquired Madame de Villefort.

"Precisely, madame," replied Monte Cristo; "but I perceive I have not much to teach you. Allow me to compliment you on your knowledge; such learning is very rare among ladies."

"Oh, I am aware of that," said Madame de Villefort; "but I have a passion for the occult sciences, which speak to the imagination like poetry, and are reducible to figures, like an algebraic equation; but go on, I beg of you; what you say interests me to the greatest degree."

"Well," replied Monte Cristo "suppose, then, that this poison was brucine, and you were to take a milligramme the first day, two milligrammes the second day, and so on. Well, at the end of ten days you would have taken a centigramme, at the end of twenty days, increasing another milligramme, you would have taken three hundred centigrammes; that is to say, a dose which you would support without inconvenience, and which would be very dangerous for any other person who had not taken the same precautions as yourself. Well, then, at the end of a month, when drinking water from the same carafe, you would kill the person who drank with you, without your perceiving, otherwise than from slight inconvenience, that there was any poisonous substance mingled with this water."

"Do you know any other counter-poisons?"

"I do not."

"I have often read, and read again, the history of Mithridates," said Madame de Villefort in a tone of reflection, "and had always considered it a fable."

"No, madame, contrary to most history, it is true; but what you tell me, madame, what you inquire of me, is not the result of a chance query, for two years ago you asked me the same questions, and said then, that for a very long time this history of Mithridates had occupied your mind."

"True, sir. The two favorite studies of my youth were botany and mineralogy, and subsequently, when I learned that the use of simples frequently explained the whole history of a people, and the entire life of individuals in the East, as flowers betoken and symbolize a love affair, I have regretted that I was not a man, that I might have been a Flamel, a Fontana, or a Cabanis."

"And the more, madame," said Monte Cristo, "as the Orientals do not confine themselves, as did Mithridates, to make a cuirass of his poisons, but they also made them a dagger. Science becomes, in their hands, not only a defensive weapon, but still more frequently an offensive one; the one serves against all their physical sufferings, the other against all their enemies. With opium, belladonna, brucaea, snake-wood, and the cherry-laurel, they put to sleep all who stand in their way. There is not one of those women, Egyptian, Turkish, or Greek, whom here you call 'good women,' who do not know how, by means of chemistry, to stupefy a doctor, and in psychology to amaze a confessor."

"Really," said Madame de Villefort, whose eyes sparkled with strange fire at this conversation.

"Oh, yes, indeed, madame," continued Monte Cristo, "the secret dramas of the East begin with a love philtre and end with a death potion--begin with paradise and end with--hell. There are as many elixirs of every kind as there are caprices and peculiarities in the physical and moral nature of humanity; and I will say further--the art of these chemists is capable with the utmost precision to accommodate and proportion the remedy and the bane to yearnings for love or desires for vengeance."

"But, sir," remarked the young woman, "these Eastern societies, in the midst of which you have passed a portion of your existence, are as fantastic as the tales that come from their strange land. A man can easily be put out of the way there, then; it is, indeed, the Bagdad and Bassora of the 'Thousand and One Nights.' The sultans and viziers who rule over society there, and who constitute what in France we call the government, are really Haroun-al-Raschids and Giaffars, who not only pardon a poisoner, but even make him a prime minister, if his crime has been an ingenious one, and who, under such circumstances, have the whole story written in letters of gold, to divert their hours of idleness and ennui."

"By no means, madame; the fanciful exists no longer in the East. There, disguised under other names, and concealed under other costumes, are police agents, magistrates, attorneys-general, and bailiffs. They hang, behead, and impale their criminals in the most agreeable possible manner; but some of these, like clever rogues, have contrived to escape human justice, and succeed in their fraudulent enterprises by cunning stratagems. Amongst us a simpleton, possessed by the demon of hate or cupidity, who has an enemy to destroy, or some near relation to dispose of, goes straight to the grocer's or druggist's, gives a false name, which leads more easily to his detection than his real one, and under the pretext that the rats prevent him from sleeping, purchases five or six grammes of arsenic--if he is really a cunning fellow, he goes to five or six different druggists or grocers, and thereby becomes only five or six times more easily traced;--then, when he has acquired his specific, he administers duly to his enemy, or near kinsman, a dose of arsenic which would make a mammoth or mastodon burst, and which, without rhyme or reason, makes his victim utter groans which alarm the entire neighborhood. Then arrive a crowd of policemen and constables. They fetch a doctor, who opens the dead body, and collects from the entrails and stomach a quantity of arsenic in a spoon. Next day a hundred newspapers relate the fact, with the names of the victim and the murderer. The same evening the grocer or grocers, druggist or druggists, come and say, 'It was I who sold the arsenic to the gentleman;' and rather than not recognize the guilty purchaser, they will recognize twenty. Then the foolish criminal is taken, imprisoned, interrogated, confronted, confounded, condemned, and cut off by hemp or steel; or if she be a woman of any consideration, they lock her up for life. This is the way in which you Northerns understand chemistry, madame. Desrues was, however, I must confess, more skilful."

"What would you have, sir?" said the lady, laughing; "we do what we can. All the world has not the secret of the Medicis or the Borgias."

"Now," replied the count, shrugging his shoulders, "shall I tell you the cause of all these stupidities? It is because, at your theatres, by what at least I could judge by reading the pieces they play, they see persons swallow the contents of a phial, or suck the button of a ring, and fall dead instantly. Five minutes afterwards the curtain falls, and the spectators depart. They are ignorant of the consequences of the murder; they see neither the police commissary with his badge of office, nor the corporal with his four men; and so the poor fools believe that the whole thing is as easy as lying. But go a little way from France--go either to Aleppo or Cairo, or only to Naples or Rome, and you will see people passing by you in the streets--people erect, smiling, and fresh-colored, of whom Asmodeus, if you were holding on by the skirt of his mantle, would say, 'That man was poisoned three weeks ago; he will be a dead man in a month.'"

"Then," remarked Madame de Villefort, "they have again discovered the secret of the famous aquatofana that they said was lost at Perugia."

"Ah, but madame, does mankind ever lose anything? The arts change about and make a tour of the world; things take a different name, and the vulgar do not follow them--that is all; but there is always the same result. Poisons act particularly on some organ or another--one on the stomach, another on the brain, another on the intestines. Well, the poison brings on a cough, the cough an inflammation of the lungs, or some other complaint catalogued in the book of science, which, however, by no means precludes it from being decidedly mortal; and if it were not, would be sure to become so, thanks to the remedies applied by foolish doctors, who are generally bad chemists, and which will act in favor of or against the malady, as you please; and then there is a human being killed according to all the rules of art and skill, and of whom justice learns nothing, as was said by a terrible chemist of my acquaintance, the worthy Abbé Adelmonte of Taormina, in Sicily, who has studied these national phenomena very profoundly."

"It is quite frightful, but deeply interesting," said the young lady, motionless with attention. "I thought, I must confess, that these tales, were inventions of the Middle Ages."

"Yes, no doubt, but improved upon by ours. What is the use of time, rewards of merit, medals, crosses, Monthyon prizes, if they do not lead society towards more complete perfection? Yet man will never be perfect until he learns to create and destroy; he does know how to destroy, and that is half the battle."

"So," added Madame de Villefort, constantly returning to her object, "the poisons of the Borgias, the Medicis, the Renes, the Ruggieris, and later, probably, that of Baron de Trenck, whose story has been so misused by modern drama and romance"--

"Were objects of art, madame, and nothing more," replied the count. "Do you suppose that the real savant addresses himself stupidly to the mere individual? By no means. Science loves eccentricities, leaps and bounds, trials of strength, fancies, if I may be allowed so to term them. Thus, for instance, the excellent Abbé Adelmonte, of whom I spoke just now, made in this way some marvellous experiments."

"Really?"

"Yes; I will mention one to you. He had a remarkably fine garden, full of vegetables, flowers, and fruit. From amongst these vegetables he selected the most simple--a cabbage, for instance. For three days he watered this cabbage with a distillation of arsenic; on the third, the cabbage began to droop and turn yellow. At that moment he cut it. In the eyes of everybody it seemed fit for table, and preserved its wholesome appearance. It was only poisoned to the Abbé Adelmonte. He then took the cabbage to the room where he had rabbits--for the Abbé Adelmonte had a collection of rabbits, cats, and guinea-pigs, fully as fine as his collection of vegetables, flowers, and fruit. Well, the Abbé Adelmonte took a rabbit, and made it eat a leaf of the cabbage. The rabbit died. What magistrate would find, or even venture to insinuate, anything against this? What procureur has ever ventured to draw up an accusation against M. Magendie or M. Flourens, in consequence of the rabbits, cats, and guinea-pigs they have killed?--not one. So, then, the rabbit dies, and justice takes no notice. This rabbit dead, the Abbé Adelmonte has its entrails taken out by his cook and thrown on the dunghill; on this dunghill is a hen, who, pecking these intestines, is in her turn taken ill, and dies next day. At the moment when she is struggling in the convulsions of death, a vulture is flying by (there are a good many vultures in Adelmonte's country); this bird darts on the dead fowl, and carries it away to a rock, where it dines off its prey. Three days afterwards, this poor vulture, which has been very much indisposed since that dinner, suddenly feels very giddy while flying aloft in the clouds, and falls heavily into a fish-pond. The pike, eels, and carp eat greedily always, as everybody knows--well, they feast on the vulture. Now suppose that next day, one of these eels, or pike, or carp, poisoned at the fourth remove, is served up at your table. Well, then, your guest will be poisoned at the fifth remove, and die, at the end of eight or ten days, of pains in the intestines, sickness, or abscess of the pylorus. The doctors open the body and say with an air of profound learning, 'The subject his died of a tumor on the liver, or of typhoid fever!'"

"But," remarked Madame de Villefort, "all these circumstances which you link thus to one another may be broken by the least accident; the vulture may not see the fowl, or may fall a hundred yards from the fish-pond."

"Ah, that is where the art comes in. To be a great chemist in the East, one must direct chance; and this is to be achieved."--Madame de Villefort was in deep thought, yet listened attentively. "But," she exclaimed, suddenly, "arsenic is indelible, indestructible; in whatsoever way it is absorbed, it will be found again in the body of the victim from the moment when it has been taken in sufficient quantity to cause death."

"Precisely so," cried Monte Cristo--"precisely so; and this is what I said to my worthy Adelmonte. He reflected, smiled, and replied to me by a Sicilian proverb, which I believe is also a French proverb, 'My son, the world was not made in a day--but in seven. Return on Sunday.' On the Sunday following I did return to him. Instead of having watered his cabbage with arsenic, he had watered it this time with a solution of salts, having their basis in strychnine, strychnos colubrina, as the learned term it. Now, the cabbage had not the slightest appearance of disease in the world, and the rabbit had not the smallest distrust; yet, five minutes afterwards, the rabbit was dead. The fowl pecked at the rabbit, and the next day was a dead hen. This time we were the vultures; so we opened the bird, and this time all special symptoms had disappeared, there were only general symptoms. There was no peculiar indication in any organ--an excitement of the nervous system--that was it; a case of cerebral congestion--nothing more. The fowl had not been poisoned--she had died of apoplexy. Apoplexy is a rare disease among fowls, I believe, but very common among men." Madame de Villefort appeared more and more thoughtful.

"It is very fortunate," she observed, "that such substances could only be prepared by chemists; otherwise, all the world would be poisoning each other."

"By chemists and persons who have a taste for chemistry," said Monte Cristo carelessly.

"And then," said Madame de Villefort, endeavoring by a struggle, and with effort, to get away from her thoughts, "however skilfully it is prepared, crime is always crime, and if it avoid human scrutiny, it does not escape the eye of God. The Orientals are stronger than we are in cases of conscience, and, very prudently, have no hell--that is the point."

"Really, madame, this is a scruple which naturally must occur to a pure mind like yours, but which would easily yield before sound reasoning. The bad side of human thought will always be defined by the paradox of Jean Jacques Rousseau,--you remember,--the mandarin who is killed five hundred leagues off by raising the tip of the finger. Man's whole life passes in doing these things, and his intellect is exhausted by reflecting on them. You will find very few persons who will go and brutally thrust a knife in the heart of a fellow-creature, or will administer to him, in order to remove him from the surface of the globe on which we move with life and animation, that quantity of arsenic of which we just now talked. Such a thing is really out of rule--eccentric or stupid. To attain such a point, the blood must be heated to thirty-six degrees, the pulse be, at least, at ninety, and the feelings excited beyond the ordinary limit. But suppose one pass, as is permissible in philology, from the word itself to its softened synonym, then, instead of committing an ignoble assassination you make an 'elimination;' you merely and simply remove from your path the individual who is in your way, and that without shock or violence, without the display of the sufferings which, in the case of becoming a punishment, make a martyr of the victim, and a butcher, in every sense of the word, of him who inflicts them. Then there will be no blood, no groans, no convulsions, and above all, no consciousness of that horrid and compromising moment of accomplishing the act,--then one escapes the clutch of the human law, which says, 'Do not disturb society!' This is the mode in which they manage these things, and succeed in Eastern climes, where there are grave and phlegmatic persons who care very little for the questions of time in conjunctures of importance."

"Yet conscience remains," remarked Madame de Villefort in an agitated voice, and with a stifled sigh.

"Yes," answered Monte Cristo "happily, yes, conscience does remain; and if it did not, how wretched we should be! After every action requiring exertion, it is conscience that saves us, for it supplies us with a thousand good excuses, of which we alone are judges; and these reasons, howsoever excellent in producing sleep, would avail us but very little before a tribunal, when we were tried for our lives. Thus Richard III, for instance, was marvellously served by his conscience after the putting away of the two children of Edward IV; in fact, he could say, 'These two children of a cruel and persecuting king, who have inherited the vices of their father, which I alone could perceive in their juvenile propensities--these two children are impediments in my way of promoting the happiness of the English people, whose unhappiness they (the children) would infallibly have caused.' Thus was Lady Macbeth served by her conscience, when she sought to give her son, and not her husband (whatever Shakspeare may say), a throne. Ah, maternal love is a great virtue, a powerful motive--so powerful that it excuses a multitude of things, even if, after Duncan's death, Lady Macbeth had been at all pricked by her conscience."

Madame de Villefort listened with avidity to these appalling maxims and horrible paradoxes, delivered by the count with that ironical simplicity which was peculiar to him. After a moment's silence, the lady inquired, "Do you know, my dear count," she said, "that you are a very terrible reasoner, and that you look at the world through a somewhat distempered medium? Have you really measured the world by scrutinies, or through alembics and crucibles? For you must indeed be a great chemist, and the elixir you administered to my son, which recalled him to life almost instantaneously"--

"Oh, do not place any reliance on that, madame; one drop of that elixir sufficed to recall life to a dying child, but three drops would have impelled the blood into his lungs in such a way as to have produced most violent palpitations; six would have suspended his respiration, and caused syncope more serious than that in which he was; ten would have destroyed him. You know, madame, how suddenly I snatched him from those phials which he so imprudently touched?"

"Is it then so terrible a poison?"

"Oh, no. In the first place, let us agree that the word poison does not exist, because in medicine use is made of the most violent poisons, which become, according as they are employed, most salutary remedies."

"What, then, is it?"

"A skilful preparation of my friend's the worthy Abbé Adelmonte, who taught me the use of it."

"Oh," observed Madame de Villefort, "it must be an admirable anti-spasmodic."

"Perfect, madame, as you have seen," replied the count; "and I frequently make use of it--with all possible prudence though, be it observed," he added with a smile of intelligence.

"Most assuredly," responded Madame de Villefort in the same tone. "As for me, so nervous, and so subject to fainting fits, I should require a Doctor Adelmonte to invent for me some means of breathing freely and tranquillizing my mind, in the fear I have of dying some fine day of suffocation. In the meanwhile, as the thing is difficult to find in France, and your abbé is not probably disposed to make a journey to Paris on my account, I must continue to use Monsieur Planché's anti-spasmodics; and mint and Hoffman's drops are among my favorite remedies. Here are some lozenges which I have made up on purpose; they are compounded doubly strong." Monte Cristo opened the tortoise-shell box, which the lady presented to him, and inhaled the odor of the lozenges with the air of an amateur who thoroughly appreciated their composition. "They are indeed exquisite," he said; "but as they are necessarily submitted to the process of deglutition--a function which it is frequently impossible for a fainting person to accomplish--I prefer my own specific."

"Undoubtedly, and so should I prefer it, after the effects I have seen produced; but of course it is a secret, and I am not so indiscreet as to ask it of you."

"But I," said Monte Cristo, rising as he spoke--"I am gallant enough to offer it you."

"How kind you are."

"Only remember one thing--a small dose is a remedy, a large one is poison. One drop will restore life, as you have seen; five or six will inevitably kill, and in a way the more terrible inasmuch as, poured into a glass of wine, it would not in the slightest degree affect its flavor. But I say no more, madame; it is really as if I were prescribing for you." The clock struck half-past six, and a lady was announced, a friend of Madame de Villefort, who came to dine with her.

"If I had had the honor of seeing you for the third or fourth time, count, instead of only for the second," said Madame de Villefort; "if I had had the honor of being your friend, instead of only having the happiness of being under an obligation to you, I should insist on detaining you to dinner, and not allow myself to be daunted by a first refusal."

"A thousand thanks, madame," replied Monte Cristo "but I have an engagement which I cannot break. I have promised to escort to the Académie a Greek princess of my acquaintance who has never seen your grand opera, and who relies on me to conduct her thither."

"Adieu, then, sir, and do not forget the prescription."

"Ah, in truth, madame, to do that I must forget the hour's conversation I have had with you, which is indeed impossible." Monte Cristo bowed, and left the house. Madame de Villefort remained immersed in thought. "He is a very strange man," she said, "and in my opinion is himself the Adelmonte he talks about." As to Monte Cristo the result had surpassed his utmost expectations. "Good," said he, as he went away; "this is a fruitful soil, and I feel certain that the seed sown will not be cast on barren ground." Next morning, faithful to his promise, he sent the prescription requested.

维尔福夫人客厅里的来宾真是基督山伯爵，他此次来的目的是回拜检察官的那次拜访的。当然很容易想象得到，一听到这个名字，全家人都顿时骚动起来。当仆人前来通报说伯爵光临的时候，维尔福夫人正独自在客厅里会客，她吩咐立刻把他的儿子带进来，以便再一次向伯爵道谢。爱德华很快便跑来了，倒并非服从他母亲的命令，也不是对伯爵有什么感谢的意思，纯粹是出于好奇心，因为最近几天以来，他不断地听人谈到这位大人物，所以很想找个机会来说几句话，捣点乱，以求博得他的母亲说：“噢，这个麻烦人的孩子！但请原谅他吧，他真是‘这样的’聪明。”经过一番惯常的寒暄之后，伯爵问起了维尔福先生。

“我丈夫到国务总理那儿吃饭去了，”那年轻的太太回答说。“他刚刚去，我想他这次错过了和你聚谈的机会一定会感到很遗憾的。”

伯爵到的时候，客厅里本来已有另外两位客人了，出于礼貌和好奇心，他们又适度地逗留了一会儿，那四只眼睛向伯爵凝视了一番，然后才起身告辞。

“啊！你的姐姐瓦朗蒂娜在干什么？”维尔福夫人问爱德华，“叫人去喊她到这儿来，我想介绍她见见伯爵。”

“那么说，您还有一个女儿了，夫人？”伯爵问道，“我想，一定非常年轻吧？”

“她是维尔福先生的女儿，”那年轻的妻子答道，“是他的前妻生的，是一个长得很标致的大姑娘了。”

“但有抑郁病。”小主人翁爱德华插嘴说道，他正在找一只美丽的长尾小鹦鹉尾巴上的羽毛，想把它拿来插在他的帽子上作花翎，那只栖在镀金架子上的鸟被拔得吱吱咕咕地乱叫。

维尔福夫人只喊了一声，“不许多嘴，爱德华！”然后她又说道，“不过，这个小捣蛋鬼说得也差不多，他只是鹦鹉学舌而已，这句话他听我痛苦地说过不下一百遍了，因为虽然我们竭力想使维尔福小姐高兴，但她却天生抑郁成性，不说话，那常常会有损于她的美。她怎么还没来，爱德华，去看看是怎么回呀。”。

“因为他们去找的地方不对，她根本不在那儿。”

“他们到哪儿去找她啦？”

“诺梯埃爷爷那儿。”

“她不在那儿吗？”

“不，不，不，不，不，她不在那儿！”爱德华唱歌似的回答说。

“那她在哪儿呢？你要是知道，为什么不讲呢？”

“她在那棵大栗子树底下哪。”那个被宠坏了的孩子一边回答，一边不顾他母亲的吆喝，仍拿苍蝇去喂鹦鹉，而鹦鹉对于这种游戏看来也很感兴趣。维尔福夫人伸手去拉铃，想叫她的侍女到刚才所说的那个地方去找瓦朗蒂娜，但这时候青年女郎却自己走进房间里来了，她的样子很沮丧，谁要是留心注意她的话，还可以看到她的眼睛流泪而仍有点红红的。

我们总在匆匆地叙述，还没把瓦朗蒂娜向我们的读者正式介绍一下呢，她是一个十九岁的姑娘，身材高挑，姿容温雅，有一头光亮的褐色头发，深蓝色的眼睛和那种极其高贵的娇弱忧郁的神气，这种神气完全象她的母亲。她那洁白纤细的手指，她那珠圆玉润的颈项，她那时红时白的脸颊，使人一见，就觉得她的容貌就象那种诗意地自比为顾影自怜的天鹅的英国美女。她走进房来，看到她后母的旁边坐着那位闻名已久的客人，就大大方方地向他行了个礼甚至连眼皮都不曾低垂一下，其举止之雍容，更加引起了伯爵对她的注意。他站起身来回礼。

“维尔福小姐，我的继女。”维尔福夫人对基督山道，她身子靠在沙发上，用手向瓦朗蒂娜挥了一下。

“这位就是基督山伯爵阁下，中国国王，安南皇帝。”那小顽童狡猾地望着她姐姐说道。

维尔福夫人这次是真的变了脸色，而且差一点就要怒斥这个名叫爱德华的家门瘟神了，但伯爵却正巧相反，他微笑了一下，露出很喜欢的样子望着那孩子，这使那母亲的心里又充满了喜悦和高兴。

“夫人，”伯爵回答说，在谈话中时而望着维尔福夫人，时而望着瓦朗蒂娜，“我不是已经有幸见过您和小姐的了吗？这个念头已在我脑子里转了好一会儿了，小姐进来的时候，一看到她，我那混乱的记忆里又多了一线光明，请原谅我的记忆力差。”

“我倒并不这么看，阁下，维尔福小姐是不太喜欢交际的，而且我们极少出门。”那年轻的太太说道。

“那么，夫人，我不是在社交场合中遇到的小姐、您和这个可爱小家伙的了。况且我对巴黎社交界是完全不熟悉的，因为，我想我已经告诉过您，我到巴黎来才只有几天的功夫，不，或许您可以容我想一想——等一等！”伯爵用手扶住额头，象是聚精会神在思索似的。“不——是另外一个地方——不是这儿——是在——我不知道——但回想起来象是与某个宗教节日有关。记得那是个美好的天气，小姐手里拿着花，这个孩子正在一个花园里追逐一只美丽的孔雀，而您，夫人，则坐在一个什么藤子搭成的凉亭底下。请帮我想想看看，夫人，讲到这些时您的脑子里还没回想起某些往事吗？”

“没有，真的，”维尔福夫人答道，“可是依我看，阁下，假如我曾在什么地方见过您，你的印象一定会深深地印在我的记忆里的。”

“也许伯爵阁下是在意大利见过我们的吧。”瓦朗蒂娜胆怯地说道。

“是的，在意大利——多半是在意大利，”基督山答道，“那么您到意大利去旅行过吗，小姐？”

“是的，夫人和我在两年以前到那儿去过。医生怕我的肺不好，指定我们去呼吸那不勒斯的新鲜空气。我们曾路过博洛涅，比鲁沙和罗马。”

“啊，对了，没错，小姐，”基督山大声说道，好象这些简单的提示已足以唤醒他的记忆了似的。是在比鲁沙，那天是天灵节，在波士蒂旅馆的花园里，我们碰巧相遇的——您，维尔福夫人，令郎，小姐和我，我现在记起来了我的确有幸见过你们的。”

“关于比鲁沙，波士蒂旅馆，和您所指的那个节日我记得很清楚，阁下，”维尔福夫人说道，“但我可再也想不起什么别的来了，我很惭愧自己的记忆力太差，因为我真的记不得以前曾有幸见过您。”

“这就怪了，我也记不起和您见过面的。”瓦朗蒂娜抬起她那双美丽的眼睛望着伯爵说道。

“我可记得。”爱德华说道。

“我来帮您回忆一下吧，夫人，”伯爵又说道，“那天的天气热得象火烧一样，您在那儿等马车，因为是节日，所以车子来晚了。小姐在花园的树荫底下散步，令郎去追赶那只鸟，后来就跑得不见了。”

“我追到它啦，妈妈，你不记得了吗？”爱德华说道，“我在它的尾巴上还拔了三根毛呢。”

“您，夫人，正如我所说的，是等在一个葡萄藤搭成的凉亭底下的，您不记得了吗？您坐在一张石凳上，当维尔福小姐和您的小儿子不在的时候，你曾和一个人谈了很长一段时间不是吗？”

“是的。真的，是的，”那年轻太太回答说，脸变得通红，“我的确记得曾和一个身穿羊毛大氅的人讲过话，我记得他好象是一个医生。”

“一点不错，夫人，那人就是我。当时我已在那家旅馆住了两星期，在那期间，我医好了我贴身跟班的寒热症和旅馆老板的黄疸病，所以真的有人称我是一个妙手回春的医生。我们谈了很长时间，夫人，谈到了各种问题，如比鲁杰诺［（一四四五—一五三二），意大利画家。——译注］，拉斐尔［（一四八三—一五二○），意大利画家。——译注］，各地的风俗习惯，和那著名的‘扎弗娜毒水［十七世纪时，意大利妇人托弗娜谋害邦地古斯国王的药水，相传无色、无味、无臭。——译注］’，我好象记得你还说过，有人告诉您，说比鲁沙有人保存着那种毒水的秘方呢。”

“是的，不错，”维尔福夫人急忙回答说，神色有点不安的样子。“我现在记起来了。”

“那次我们讨论到各种各样的问题，只是现在我记不全了，夫人，”伯爵十分平静地说道，“但后来您也象别人一样对我产生了点误解，和我商量到维尔福小姐的健康问题，这一点我却是记得很清楚的。”

“是的，的确，阁下，您的确是一位医生，”维尔福夫人说道，“因为您治好了很多病人。”

“这一点我可以借莫里和博马舍［（一八一八—一八九三），法国剧作家。——译注］的话来回答您，因为正如他们所说的：治好我的病人的，并不是我。至于我，我只能对您说，我对于药物学和各种自然科学曾作过很深的研究，但您知道，那只不过是一种业余的研究罢了。”

这时时钟敲了六下。“现在已经六点钟了，”维尔福夫人显然很激动地说道。“凡兰蒂，你的爷爷是不是要吃饭了，你去看看好吗？”

瓦朗蒂娜站起来向伯爵行了个礼，默默无言地离开了房间。

“噢，夫人！”等瓦朗蒂娜离开房间以后，伯爵说道，“您是为了我才把维尔福小姐打发走的吗？”

“决不是的，“那轻妇人急忙答道，”我们总是在这个时候给诺瓦蒂埃先生吃饭的，说来可怜，他吃饭也只是维持他那种悲愁的生活而已。阁下，您可能已经知道那老人可悲状况了吧？”

“是的，夫人，维尔福先生对我谈起过。我好象记得那老人是个瘫子。”

“唉，是呀！那可怜的老人全身都不能动弹，在这架人体机器里，只有脑子还可以活动一下，而那也只是象摇摇欲熄的一点灯火一样而已。请原谅我谈起了我们家庭里的不幸，先生，我打断了您的话啦，您刚才在告诉我，说您是一个高明的药物学家。”

“不，夫人，我并没说自己达到了那种程度，”伯爵带笑回答说，“恰恰相反，我之所以要研究药物学，是因为我决定要住在东方，所以我很希望能学学国王米沙里旦司的榜样［米沙里旦司是公元前一世纪时小亚细亚地方邦图斯的国王，因怕别人用毒药药死他，自己常服毒药，逐渐加重毒药的份量，到后来虽吃大量毒药而不会中毒。——译注］。”

“‘米沙里旦司，君临邦图斯，’”那小无赖一边说，一边从一本精美的画册上撕下了一张美丽的画片，“那个人每天早晨吃早餐的时候都要喝一杯烈性毒药。”

“爱德华，你这顽皮孩子！”维尔福夫人从那顽童的手里夺过了那本残缺不全的书，大声说道，“你真叫人受不住啦，老是打扰大人的谈话。出去吧，到诺瓦蒂埃爷爷的房间里找你的姐姐瓦朗蒂娜去吧。”

“画册。”爱德华说道。

“什么？画册！”

“我要那本画册。”

“你干嘛要把图画撕下来？”

“噢，我高兴这么做嘛。”

“去吧，快去吧。”

“我不去，除非你把那本画册给我。”那孩子说道，并按照他以往决不让步的习惯，赖皮地在一张圈椅上坐定下来。

“拿去吧，别再来打扰我们了。”维尔福夫人说着，把那本画册给了爱德华，于是，那孩子就由他的母亲领着，向门口走去了。

伯爵的目光一直跟着她。“我来看看，他出去以后，她关不关门。”他低声自语道。

那孩子出去以后，维尔福夫人果然小心地把门关上了，伯爵表面上象是根本没去注意她似的，他以一种细察的目光向房间里环视了一下，那位年轻的太太走回到她的椅子边，又坐了下来。

“请允许我说一句话，夫人，”伯爵用他那种假装得非常巧妙的慈爱的口吻说道：“您对那个可爱的孩子真是太严厉了一点。”

“噢，有时候严厉是很必要的。”维尔福夫人用用一种真正母性的语气煞有介事地说道。

“爱德华小主人刚才那句关于国王米沙里旦司的话，是尼颇士［（公元前—？），罗马历史家。——译注］的说的，”伯爵又说道，“从他这句引证话上来看，他的家庭教师对他没有疏忽，令郎真可谓是早熟啊。”

“伯爵阁下，”做母亲的很高兴受到这样的恭维，答道，“他的天资的确很高，不管什么东西放到他面前，他一学就会。他只有一个缺点，就是有点任性，至于他刚才所讲的，您真相信米沙里旦司用过那种预防剂，而且那种预防剂的确很有效吗？”

“我想是的，夫人，因为我——就是现在跟您讲话的我——也曾服用过它们，免得在那不勒斯，巴勒莫和士麦拿的时候被人毒死，也就是说，有三四次，要不是全靠了那种预防剂，”我一定早没命了。”

“您的预防剂成功了吗？”

“相当成功。”

“是的，我现在记起来了。您在比鲁沙曾对我提到过这类事情。”

“真的！我提到过吗？”伯爵带着一种巧装的惊愕的神色说道，“我实在是记不得了。”

“我问过您毒药对于南方人和北方人是不是会产生同样的效力，而您回答说，北方人的脾性冷淡怠惰，南方人的性格热烈活泼，他们对于毒药的感受性是不一样的。”

“的确如此，”基督山说道。“我曾目睹过俄国人吃一种植物素，吃了以后显然毫无妨害，但假如是一个那不勒斯人或是一个阿拉伯人，吃下去那一定会丧命的。”

“您真的相信，我们比东方人容易见效，在我们这种多雾多雨的地带，一个人要使他自己逐渐习惯于吸收毒药，比那些热带的人容易一些吗？”

“当然罗，同时也必须懂得，一个人只有亲自用惯了那种毒药，才能不被那种毒药所害。”

“是的，这我懂的。只是您怎样才能用惯呢？或说得更确切些，您是怎样用惯的呢？”

“噢，那非常容易。假如您事先知道会用什么毒药来谋害您，假如那毒药，譬如说，是木鳖精…”

“木鳖精是从番木鳖的皮和果实中提炼出来的那种东西对吗？”维尔福夫人问道。

“一点不错，夫人，”基督山答道，“我发觉我实在没多有少可以教您的了。请允许我恭贺您的学识丰富，这种知识在太太们当中是极少有人知道的。”

“噢，我是知道的，”维尔福夫人说道，“我对于神秘科学非常感兴趣，它们象诗歌一样的需要想象力，又象一个代数方程式似的可以还原。请您说下去吧，您所说的我觉得有趣极了。”

“好的，”基督山答道，“那么，假定这种毒药是木鳖精，您在第一天吃一克，第二天吃两克，如此类推。好，到了第十天，您可以吃十克了，到第二十天，又了一倍，您可以吃二十克了。也就是说，这服药您吃了可以毫无妨碍了，但要是没有经过这种预防步骤的人吃了，却是非常危险的。好了，那么，满一个月的时候，您要是和别人同喝一只水瓶里的毒药水，您可以把那个人毒死，而您自己同时虽然也喝了这种水，但除了微微觉得有点不舒服以外，决不会觉察到这瓶水里混有任何毒质的。”

“您知道还有任何其他的抗毒剂吗？”

“我不知道了。”

“我常常读好多遍米沙里旦司的历史。”维尔福夫人用一种沉思的门吻说道，“我始终认为那只过是荒唐之谈罢了。”

“不，夫人，和大多数历史家所说的相反，这件事是真的。但是夫人您告诉我的，哦，您问我的这件事，我看这决非是个偶然的问题，因为两年以前您就曾问过我这个同样的问题，而且还说，米沙里旦司的历史已在您脑子里盘旋了很长一段时间了。”

“不错，阁下。我年轻的时候最喜爱的两门功课就是植物学和矿物学。后来，我又知道，在东方各国，草药的使用常常可以解释一个民族的全部历史和个人的整个生涯，正如各种花可以说明它们的情思一样。当时，我后悔我不是个男人，否则，我倒也许可以成为弗赖米尔［（一三三○—一四一八），法国炼金术家。——译注］，芳丹拿［（一七三○—一八○五），意大利生理学家。——译注］，或卡巴尼斯。”

“还有一点，夫人，”基督山说道，“东方人并不象米沙里旦司那样只限于用毒药来做护心镜，他们也把它当作匕首来用的。科学在他们的手里不仅仅是一件防御性武器，而更常常是一种进攻性武器。前者用来进攻他们肉体上的一切痛苦，后者用来进攻他们所有的敌人。有了鸦片，颠茄，番木鳖，蛇木根，樱桂皮，他们就可以使那些清醒的人一齐睡去。埃及，土耳其，希腊的女人，就是你们在此称之为‘好女人’的那些人，她们都知道该如何在药物学上使医生们吓得目瞪口呆或在心理学上惊倒忏悔师们。”

“真的！”维尔福夫人说道，在这段谈话里，她的眼睛时不时地闪耀出一种奇异的火花。

“哦，的确是真的！夫人，”基督山继续说道，“一种植物能产生爱，但那种植物也能造成死。一种药物能在你面前打开天堂之门，那种药物同样也能把一个人推入地狱，东方的秘剧就这样开始和结束的！每一种东西都有许多的阴暗面，正如人类的肉体和精神变幻无常，各有其特征一样。我还可以更进一步地说，那些化学家是有能力把药物和病症根据他的所好或他想复仇的愿望加以适当的配合的。”

“但是，阁下，”那位太太说道，“您曾在那些东方世界里生活过一段时期，那些地方可真象是《一千零一夜》里的故事一样的神奇。照这样讲，那儿的人可以很轻易地被人除掉，这可实在是盖伦特先生［（一六四六—一七一五），《一千零一夜》的法译者。——译注］时代的巴格达和巴斯拉了。苏丹和维齐［古代阿拉伯国家的国王叫苏丹，大臣叫维齐。——译注］统治着那些年代里，他们也有我们法国目前所谓的政府这一类的东西，但实际上他们却只是回教的教主和祭师，他们不但可以饶恕一个毒人犯，而且要是他犯罪的技术很高超的话，甚至可以封他做首相的，遇到这种情形，他们还要把全部故事用金字注载下来，借以消磨他们闲散无聊的时光。”

“决不是这样的，夫人，东方已不再有那种异想天开的事情了。那儿现在也有了警察，法官，检察长和地方官，不过名称和服装不同罢了。他们尽可能地以最适当的方式处置他们的犯人，有绞刑，杀头和刺刑。但有些犯人却能象那些刁滑的地痞流氓一样设法逃脱法律的制裁，凭着他们巧妙的计谋继续做贪赃枉法的事。在我们的人社会里，一个傻瓜要是心里怀有仇恨或动了贪念，想除掉一个仇人或除去一个近亲，他就会径自跑到杂货店或药房里，借口老鼠吵得他无法睡觉，要买五六克砒霜，他还会捏造一个假名字，而那却比真名字更容易被识破，假如他真是一个狡猾的家伙，他就会分别到五六家不同的药房或杂货店里去买，因此，当追踪线索的时候，就更容易了五六倍。然后，当他弄到他想要的东西以后，他就莽莽撞撞地给他的仇人或近亲吃一付砒霜，其份量之重，就是古代的巨象或恐龙吃了也会五脏崩裂的，就这样毫无意义地使他的受害者在那里呻吟，以致惊动了四邻。于是他们便去找一位医生来，医生剖开死者的身体，从肠胃里把砒霜刮出来装在一只匙羹里。第二天，一百家报纸上都会刊登出这件事来，并登出被害人和凶手的名字。当天傍晚，杂货商或药商就会来说：‘被告的砒霜是我卖给他的。’他们绝不会认错的，一认就认出了那个犯罪的顾客。于是那个愚蠢的犯人就被扣押起来，关进了牢里，经过审问、对质、挨骂、宣判，然后在麻绳或钢刀上了却了残生，假如她是一个很有地位的女人，他们就会判处她无期徒刑。你们北方人以为这样就是懂得药物学了，夫人。应当承认，德律［德律是一毒害人的凶犯，一七七七年在巴黎处死。——译注］的技巧更高明一些。”

“您还想怎么样呢，阁下？”那位太太笑着回答说，“我们只能是尽力罢了。全世界的人并不是个个都能有梅迪契［法国国王亨利二世的王后。——译注］或布琪亚那神秘方的呀。”

“现在，”伯爵耸了耸肩回答道，“让我来告诉您这种蠢事的起因好吗？那是因为在你们的戏院里，至少，我可以从我看过的几个剧中作出这样的判断，他们看到舞台上的人吞下一个小瓶子里的东西或吮了一下一只戒指，就立刻倒下去死了。五分钟以后，大幕落下来，观众也就散了。他们是不知道以后的事情的。他们既没有看到那佩着绶带的警官，也没有看见那带着四个兵的警长，于是，很多愚人就相信事情的确就是那样的。但离法国稍远一点的地方，到阿莱普或开罗，或是只要到那不勒斯或罗马，您在街上看到有一个人经过您的身旁时，那个人腰杆笔直，面带微笑，肤色红润，可是，假如阿斯魔狄思［犹太教中的魔王，有先见之明。——译注］在您身边的话，他就会说：‘那个人在三周以前中了毒，一个月之内就会死的。’”

“那么，”‘维尔福夫人说道，“那著名的托弗娜毒水的秘密又被他们发现啦，我在比鲁沙听说它已经失传了呀。”

“哦，真的，人类有哪样东西是永远失传了的呢？艺术是能移动的，它在世界上兜了一个圈子。事物只不过改变了它们的名字而已，而那些凡夫俗子便不再去跟踪它们了，如此而已，但结果总是一样的。一种毒药只对一种器官发生作用——有的侵害脑子，有的侵害肠子。警如说，某种毒药可以使人咳嗽，咳嗽又能使气管发炎，或引起在医学书上讲的另一种疾病，那种病，本来是决不会致命的，假如不让那些天真的医生用那些药物使病情变成致命的话。这大都是些不高明的药物学家，他们随心所欲，不是把病人治好了就是把病人治死了。而病人的死又看来十分自然，而对于他，法律是不会去过问的，这种事是我认识的一位可怕的药物学家告诉我的，就是那位可敬的阿特尔蒙神甫，他住在西西里，对他的国家的这种现象曾作过深刻的研究。”

“这种事显很可怕，但却极其有趣，”那青年女人说道，她听得出神，身体一动都不动。“我想，我必须承认，这些传说都是中世纪的发明吧。”

“是的，那是毫无疑问的，但在我们当今这个时代却更进步了。假如各种鼓励的方式不能使社会日趋完美，那么时间、奖励、勋章、十字勋章和蒙松奖章还有什么用呢？人除非能学得象上帝那样既能破坏又能创造，否则他决称不上为完美，他的确知道如何去破坏，但这只不过是全部路程的一半而已。”

“那么说，”维尔福夫人接着说道，她老是把话头拉回到她的题目上来，“近代戏剧和传奇小说中把故事都完全弄错了，凡是布琪亚，梅迪契，罗吉里斯，以及后来德邻克男爵所用的毒药”

“都是一种艺术，夫人，”伯爵答道。“难道您以为真正的大科学