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The Cask of Amontillado
by Edgar Allan Poe
(1846)
THE thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could, but when he ventured upon insult I vowed revenge. You, who so well know the nature of my soul, will not suppose, however, that gave utterance to a threat. At length I would be avenged; this was a point definitely, settled --but the very definitive with which it was resolved precluded the idea of risk. I must not only punish but punish with impunity. A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its re-dresser. It is equally undressed when the avenger fails to make himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong.
It must be understood that neither by word nor deed had I given Fortunato cause to doubt my good will. I continued, as was my in to smile in his face, and he did not perceive that my to smile now was at the thought of his immolation.
He had a weak point --this Fortunato --although in other regards he was a man to be respected and even feared. He prided himself on his connoisseurship in wine. Few Italians have the true virtuoso spirit. For the most part their enthusiasm is adopted to suit the time and opportunity, to practise imposture upon the British and Austrian millionaires. In painting and gemmary, Fortunato, like his countrymen, was a quack, but in the matter of old wines he was sincere. In this respect I did not differ from him materially; --I was skilful in the Italian vintages myself, and bought largely whenever I could.
It was about dusk, one evening during the supreme madness of the carnival season, that I encountered my friend. He accosted me with excessive warmth, for he had been drinking much. The man wore motley. He had on a tight-fitting parti-striped dress, and his head was surmounted by the conical cap and bells. I was so pleased to see him that I thought I should never have done wringing his hand.
I said to him --"My dear Fortunato, you are luckily met. How remarkably well you are looking to-day. But I have received a pipe of what passes for Amontillado, and I have my doubts."
"How?" said he. "Amontillado, A pipe? Impossible! And in the middle of the carnival!"
"I have my doubts," I replied; "and I was silly enough to pay the full Amontillado price without consulting you in the matter. You were not to be found, and I was fearful of losing a bargain."
"Amontillado!"
"I have my doubts."
"Amontillado!"
"And I must satisfy them."
"Amontillado!"
"As you are engaged, I am on my way to Luchresi. If any one has a critical turn it is he. He will tell me --"
"Luchresi cannot tell Amontillado from Sherry."
"And yet some fools will have it that his taste is a match for your own.
"Come, let us go."
"Whither?"
"To your vaults."
"My friend, no; I will not impose upon your good nature. I perceive you have an engagement. Luchresi--"
"I have no engagement; --come."
"My friend, no. It is not the engagement, but the severe cold with which I perceive you are afflicted. The vaults are insufferably damp. They are encrusted with nitre."
"Let us go, nevertheless. The cold is merely nothing. Amontillado! You have been imposed upon. And as for Luchresi, he cannot distinguish Sherry from Amontillado."
Thus speaking, Fortunato possessed himself of my arm; and putting on a mask of black silk and drawing a roquelaire closely about my person, I suffered him to hurry me to my palazzo.
There were no attendants at home; they had absconded to make merry in honour of the time. I had told them that I should not return until the morning, and had given them explicit orders not to stir from the house. These orders were sufficient, I well knew, to insure their immediate disappearance, one and all, as soon as my back was turned.
I took from their sconces two flambeaux, and giving one to Fortunato, bowed him through several suites of rooms to the archway that led into the vaults. I passed down a long and winding staircase, requesting him to be cautious as he followed. We came at length to the foot of the descent, and stood together upon the damp ground of the catacombs of the Montresors.
The gait of my friend was unsteady, and the bells upon his cap jingled as he strode.
"The pipe," he said.
"It is farther on," said I; "but observe the white web-work which gleams from these cavern walls."
He turned towards me, and looked into my eves with two filmy orbs that distilled the rheum of intoxication.
"Nitre?" he asked, at length.
"Nitre," I replied. "How long have you had that cough?"
"Ugh! ugh! ugh! --ugh! ugh! ugh! --ugh! ugh! ugh! --ugh! ugh! ugh! --ugh! ugh! ugh!"
My poor friend found it impossible to reply for many minutes.
"It is nothing," he said, at last.
"Come," I said, with decision, "we will go back; your health is precious. You are rich, respected, admired, beloved; you are happy, as once I was. You are a man to be missed. For me it is no matter. We will go back; you will be ill, and I cannot be responsible. Besides, there is Luchresi --"
"Enough," he said; "the cough's a mere nothing; it will not kill me. I shall not die of a cough."
"True --true," I replied; "and, indeed, I had no intention of alarming you unnecessarily --but you should use all proper caution. A draught of this Medoc will defend us from the damps.
Here I knocked off the neck of a bottle which I drew from a long row of its fellows that lay upon the mould.
"Drink," I said, presenting him the wine.
He raised it to his lips with a leer. He paused and nodded to me familiarly, while his bells jingled.
"I drink," he said, "to the buried that repose around us."
"And I to your long life."
He again took my arm, and we proceeded.
"These vaults," he said, "are extensive."
"The Montresors," I replied, "were a great and numerous family."
"I forget your arms."
"A huge human foot d'or, in a field azure; the foot crushes a serpent rampant whose fangs are imbedded in the heel."
"And the motto?"
"Nemo me impune lacessit."
"Good!" he said.
The wine sparkled in his eyes and the bells jingled. My own fancy grew warm with the Medoc. We had passed through long walls of piled skeletons, with casks and puncheons intermingling, into the inmost recesses of the catacombs. I paused again, and this time I made bold to seize Fortunato by an arm above the elbow.
"The nitre!" I said; "see, it increases. It hangs like moss upon the vaults. We are below the river's bed. The drops of moisture trickle among the bones. Come, we will go back ere it is too late. Your cough --"
"It is nothing," he said; "let us go on. But first, another draught of the Medoc."
I broke and reached him a flagon of De Grave. He emptied it at a breath. His eyes flashed with a fierce light. He laughed and threw the bottle upwards with a gesticulation I did not understand.
I looked at him in surprise. He repeated the movement --a grotesque one.
"You do not comprehend?" he said.
"Not I," I replied.
"Then you are not of the brotherhood."
"How?"
"You are not of the masons."
"Yes, yes," I said; "yes, yes."
"You? Impossible! A mason?"
"A mason," I replied.
"A sign," he said, "a sign."
"It is this," I answered, producing from beneath the folds of my roquelaire a trowel.
"You jest," he exclaimed, recoiling a few paces. "But let us proceed to the Amontillado."
"Be it so," I said, replacing the tool beneath the cloak and again offering him my arm. He leaned upon it heavily. We continued our route in search of the Amontillado. We passed through a range of low arches, descended, passed on, and descending again, arrived at a deep crypt, in which the foulness of the air caused our flambeaux rather to glow than flame.
At the most remote end of the crypt there appeared another less spacious. Its walls had been lined with human remains, piled to the vault overhead, in the fashion of the great catacombs of Paris. Three sides of this interior crypt were still ornamented in this manner. From the fourth side the bones had been thrown down, and lay promiscuously upon the earth, forming at one point a mound of some size. Within the wall thus exposed by the displacing of the bones, we perceived a still interior crypt or recess, in depth about four feet, in width three, in height six or seven. It seemed to have been constructed for no especial use within itself, but formed merely the interval between two of the colossal supports of the roof of the catacombs, and was backed by one of their circumscribing walls of solid granite.
It was in vain that Fortunato, uplifting his dull torch, endeavoured to pry into the depth of the recess. Its termination the feeble light did not enable us to see.
"Proceed," I said; "herein is the Amontillado. As for Luchresi --"
"He is an ignoramus," interrupted my friend, as he stepped unsteadily forward, while I followed immediately at his heels. In niche, and finding an instant he had reached the extremity of the niche, and finding his progress arrested by the rock, stood stupidly bewildered. A moment more and I had fettered him to the granite. In its surface were two iron staples, distant from each other about two feet, horizontally. From one of these depended a short chain, from the other a padlock. Throwing the links about his waist, it was but the work of a few seconds to secure it. He was too much astounded to resist. Withdrawing the key I stepped back from the recess.
"Pass your hand," I said, "over the wall; you cannot help feeling the nitre. Indeed, it is very damp. Once more let me implore you to return. No? Then I must positively leave you. But I must first render you all the little attentions in my power."
"The Amontillado!" ejaculated my friend, not yet recovered from his astonishment.
"True," I replied; "the Amontillado."
As I said these words I busied myself among the pile of bones of which I have before spoken. Throwing them aside, I soon uncovered a quantity of building stone and mortar. With these materials and with the aid of my trowel, I began vigorously to wall up the entrance of the niche.
I had scarcely laid the first tier of the masonry when I discovered that the intoxication of Fortunato had in a great measure worn off. The earliest indication I had of this was a low moaning cry from the depth of the recess. It was not the cry of a drunken man. There was then a long and obstinate silence. I laid the second tier, and the third, and the fourth; and then I heard the furious vibrations of the chain. The noise lasted for several minutes, during which, that I might hearken to it with the more satisfaction, I ceased my labours and sat down upon the bones. When at last the clanking subsided, I resumed the trowel, and finished without interruption the fifth, the sixth, and the seventh tier. The wall was now nearly upon a level with my breast. I again paused, and holding the flambeaux over the mason-work, threw a few feeble rays upon the figure within.
A succession of loud and shrill screams, bursting suddenly from the throat of the chained form, seemed to thrust me violently back. For a brief moment I hesitated, I trembled. Unsheathing my rapier, I began to grope with it about the recess; but the thought of an instant reassured me. I placed my hand upon the solid fabric of the catacombs, and felt satisfied. I reapproached the wall; I replied to the yells of him who clamoured. I re-echoed, I aided, I surpassed them in volume and in strength. I did this, and the clamourer grew still.
It was now midnight, and my task was drawing to a close. I had completed the eighth, the ninth and the tenth tier. I had finished a portion of the last and the eleventh; there remained but a single stone to be fitted and plastered in. I struggled with its weight; I placed it partially in its destined position. But now there came from out the niche a low laugh that erected the hairs upon my head. It was succeeded by a sad voice, which I had difficulty in recognizing as that of the noble Fortunato. The voice said--
"Ha! ha! ha! --he! he! he! --a very good joke, indeed --an excellent jest. We will have many a rich laugh about it at the palazzo --he! he! he! --over our wine --he! he! he!"
"The Amontillado!" I said.
"He! he! he! --he! he! he! --yes, the Amontillado. But is it not getting late? Will not they be awaiting us at the palazzo, the Lady Fortunato and the rest? Let us be gone."
"Yes," I said, "let us be gone."
"For the love of God, Montresor!"
"Yes," I said, "for the love of God!"
But to these words I hearkened in vain for a reply. I grew impatient. I called aloud --
"Fortunato!"
No answer. I called again --
"Fortunato!"
No answer still. I thrust a torch through the remaining aperture and let it fall within. There came forth in return only a jingling of the bells. My heart grew sick; it was the dampness of the catacombs that made it so. I hastened to make an end of my labour. I forced the last stone into its position; I plastered it up. Against the new masonry I re-erected the old rampart of bones. For the half of a century no mortal has disturbed them. In pace requiescat!
The Civil Disobedience
Thoreau's Civil Disobedience espouses the need to prioritize one's conscience over the dictates of laws. It criticizes American social institutions and policies, most prominently slavery and the Mexican-American War.
Thoreau begins his essay by arguing that government rarely proves itself useful and that it derives its power from the majority because they are the strongest group, not because they hold the most legitimate viewpoint. He contends that people's first obligation is to do what they believe is right and not to follow the law dictated by the majority. When a government is unjust, people should refuse to follow the law and distance themselves from the government in general. A person is not obligated to devote his life to eliminating evils from the world, but he is obligated not to participate in such evils. This includes not being a member of an unjust institution (like the government). Thoreau further argues that the United States fits his criteria for an unjust government, given its support of slavery and its practice of aggressive war.
Thoreau doubts the effectiveness of reform within the government, and he argues that voting and petitioning for change achieves little. He presents his own experiences as a model for how to relate to an unjust government: In protest of slavery, Thoreau refused to pay taxes and spent a night in jail. But, more generally, he ideologically dissociated himself from the government, "washing his hands" of it and refusing to participate in his institutions. According to Thoreau, this form of protest was preferable to advocating for reform from within government; he asserts that one cannot see government for what it is when one is working within it.
Civil Disobedience covers several topics, and Thoreau intersperses poetry and social commentary throughout. For purposes of clarity and readability, the essay has been divided into three sections here, though Thoreau himself made no such divisions.
Background of the Author:
Henry David Thoreau (July 12, 1817 – May 6, 1862) was an American author, poet, philosopher, polymath,abolitionist, naturalist, tax resister, development critic, surveyor, historian, and leading transcendentalist.[2] He is best known for his book Walden, a reflection upon simple living in natural surroundings, and his essay Resistance to Civil Government (also known as Civil Disobedience), an argument for disobedience to an unjust state.
Thoreau's books, articles, essays, journals, and poetry total over 20 volumes. Among his lasting contributions are his writings on natural history and philosophy, where he anticipated the methods and findings of ecology and environmental history, two sources of modern-day environmentalism. His literary style interweaves close natural observation, personal experience, pointed rhetoric, symbolicmeanings, and historical lore, while displaying a poetic sensibility, philosophical austerity, and "Yankee" love of practical detail. He was also deeply interested in the idea of survival in the face of hostile elements, historical change, and natural decay; at the same time he advocated abandoning waste and illusion in order to discover life's true essential needs.
He was a lifelong abolitionist, delivering lectures that attacked the Fugitive Slave Law while praising the writings of Wendell Phillips and defending abolitionist John Brown. Thoreau's philosophy of civil disobedience later influenced the political thoughts and actions of such notable figures as Leo Tolstoy, Mohandas Gandhi, and Martin Luther King, Jr.
Thoreau is sometimes cited as an anarchist. Though Civil Disobedience seems to call for improving rather than abolishing government — "I ask for, not at once no government, but at once a better government" — the direction of this improvement points toward anarchism: "'That government is best which governs not at all;' and when men are prepared for it, that will be the kind of government which they will have." Richard Drinnon partly blames Thoreau for the ambiguity, noting that Thoreau's "sly satire, his liking for wide margins for his writing, and his fondness for paradox provided ammunition for widely divergent interpretations of 'Civil Disobedience.'
Personal Comment:
Thoreau believes that people should not participate in injustice but that they do not have to actively promote a more just world.
The Count of Monte Cristo
Edmond returns from a long journey at sea. The captain of his ship, the Pharaon, has died along the way, and Edmond has successfully lead the crew and the cargo home to Marseilles, France. The ship's owner, Monsieur Morrel, is extremely happy about this. Edmond gets a promotion. He is super-excited to marry the love of his life, a local lady named Mercédès. Everything seems to be going so well.
Unfortunately, there are two men who are severely jealous of Edmond: Danglars, the ship accountant, resents Edmond for his success and his promotion, and Fernand Mondego, a local fisherman, is in love with Mercédès. Danglars decides that they will frame Edmond for treason, telling authorities that Edmond is in possession of an incriminating letter that will prove that he is a supporter of Napoleon. Napoleon is the French Emperor who has recently been stripped of his power and exiled to the island of Elba (check out our "Setting" section for the dirt on Napoleon). Danglars knows that, on their way back to Marseilles, Edmond carried out the dying wish of their ship's captain: he agreed to deliver a package to a close friend of the captain's, and he was given a letter from the island of Elba to deliver to someone in Paris. Edmond doesn't know what either the package or the letter contains.
When Danglars and Fernand falsely accuse Edmond of treason, the authorities capture Edmond, taking him away from his wedding. Edmond then meets Monsieur Villefort, who is kind of like an assistant district attorney, and Monsieur Villefort takes a look at the so-called incriminating letter from Edmond's former ship captain. Monsieur Villefort's eyes get really big, and the next thing we know Edmond is thrown into the Chateau d'If for life. Chateau d'If is a prison on an island in the Mediterranean Sea. It turns out that the letter was written by someone close to Napoleon and was addressed to Monsieur Villefort's father. And so Monsieur Villefort destroys the letter and has its messenger locked up in order to protect his father.
Edmond spends fourteen years in prison. During that time, he almost goes crazy and nearly gives up on life. But then he meets a wealthy Italian prisoner (a priest) called Abbé Faria. The Abbé educates Edmond about all kinds of things, and the two figure out a way to dig an escape route out of the prison. They have big plans, but, at the last minute, the Abbé becomes very sick and dies. The Abbé leaves Edmond directions to a buried treasure on the island of Monte Cristo.
Edmond escapes Chateau d'If by pretending to be the dead Abbé. He swims to safety on a ship, and he eventually finds his way to the island of Monte Cristo, where he finds riches beyond his wildest dreams. With this newfound treasure, Edmond reinvents himself as the Count of Monte Cristo, traveling all over the world buying beautiful things. He begins to hatch an elaborate plot to take revenge on Danglars, Fernand, and Monsieur Villefort.
Eventually, the Count finds himself in Paris where Danglars, Fernand, and Villefort have all settled. Each of them is very wealthy, successful, and married with children. Fernand has married Mercédès. The Count is an instant hit with these social-climbing families. He's mysterious, sophisticated, wise, and elegant – everyone wants to be his best friend. The Count's intricate revenge plot gains momentum in Paris and around Paris where he gradually ruins the lives of each of his enemies.
The Count gives his home on the island of Monte Cristo and his land in France to Maximillian Morrel (the son of Monsieur Morrel), and Max's sweetheart, Valentine Villefort (Villefort's daughter). The Count leaves the island of Monte Cristo and his revenge-loving life behind, choosing to seek a new existence with his new love, Haydée, a former Greek slave. The Count rides off into the sunset.
Background of the author
Alexandre Dumas, the author of The Three Musketeers andThe Count of Monte Cristo, among scores of other novels, was born on July 24, 1802. His father was somewhat of an adventurer-soldier, a mulatto, and was not a favorite of Napoleon because of his staunch republicanism. Therefore, on his father's death in 1806, when Alexandre was only four, the family was left in rather severe financial straits. The young boy's formal education was scanty, most of it provided by a priest, and as soon as he could qualify, Alexandre entered the services of a lawyer. As he grew older, he became close friends with the son of an exiled Swedish nobleman, and the two of them began to dabble in vaudeville enterprises. Later, as a young man, Dumas went to Paris and secured a position as a clerk to the Duc d'Orleans; this was a marvelous stroke of good fortune, for the Duc would soon become king, and Dumas would write a superb Memoir about his many and varied mishaps while he was employed by the future king.
At the same time, Dumas and his old friend, Leuven, produced several melodramas. When he was twenty-two, however, a melodrama of his own making presented itself: Dumas found himself the father of an illegitimate son by a dressmaker, Marie Labay; when the boy was seven, Dumas went to court to get custody of him, and succeeded.
Professionally, this was an extremely happy time for Dumas; for six years, he and Leuven had been collaborating on plays, and their legitimate dramas had been staged to much popular acclaim. Then in 1829, Dumas' Henri III et sa cour (Henry III and His Court) was produced; it was Dumas' first spectacular triumph. The Duc was so fond of it that he appointed Dumas the librarian of the Palais Royal.
The Revolution of 1830 interrupted Dumas' playwriting, and for a pleasant and amusing account of these years, one should consult Dumas' Memoirs for many rich and humorous anecdotes (not worrying unduly about the degree of truth in them, of course). Then, because Dumas was implicated in some "irregularities" during a noted French general's funeral, he suddenly decided to "tour" Switzerland; as a result, we have another long series of delightful Memoirs, this time issued as travel books. It should be noted, though, that Dumas always retained his affectionate relationship with the Duc, and that he eventually returned to France, where he composed many first-rate, long-running plays.
Dumas' well-known collaboration with Auguste Maquet began in 1837 and resulted in a series of historical novels in which Dumas hoped to reconstruct the major events of French history. For example, the Three Musketeers are united in order to defend the honor of Anne of Austria against Richelieu. This particular novel in the series was so popular that Dumas immediately composed two sequels and, by coincidence,The Count of Monte Cristo was also written during this same period, with the help of collaborators.
In fact, Dumas, with the aid of collaborators, turned out so much fiction and miscellaneous writing that it has been remarked that "No one has ever read the whole of Dumas, not even himself." We know now, however, that Dumas' assistants only provided him with rough plotlines and suggested incidents to him. He himself filled in the outlines, and all of his novels' manuscripts are in his handwriting.
Like so many creative and productive men, Dumas' life ended in a series of personal and financial tragedies. He built a strangely beautiful and impressive French Gothic, English Renaissance hybrid mansion and filled it with a multitude of scavenger-friends; both home and hangers-on were tremendous drains on his purse, as was the construction and upkeep of his own theater, the Theatre Historique, built specifically for the performance of his own plays.
In 1851, Dumas moved to Brussels, as much for his political advantage as it was to escape creditors — despite the 1,200 volumes which bore his name — and he died not long after a scandalous liaison with an American circus girl, a situation that he might well have chosen as a fictional framework for his demise.
Dumas' son, Alexandre Dumas fils, is remembered today chiefly for his first novel, The Lady of the Camellias, which was the basis for the libretto of Verdi's opera La Traviata, as well as for the plot of one of Hollywood's classic films, Camille, starring Greta Garbo.
Story Elements
A. Settings- Paris
- Marseilles
- Rome
- Monte Cristo
- Greece
- Constantinople
B. latter part
The story begins in 1815 and ends in 1844.
Characters List:
Edmond Dantès (alias the Count of Monte Cristo; his other aliases are Sinbad the Sailor, Abbé Busoni, and Lord Wilmore) Dantès is the dashing and romantic hero of the novel; at the age of nineteen, he is falsely imprisoned for a crime which he did not commit and is kept in the horrible dungeon of the Chateau d'If, where he undergoes unbelievable hardships and sufferings that would destroy an ordinary man. While imprisoned, Dantès hears a fellow prisoner digging a tunnel, and so he too begins digging. When the two men finally meet, the other prisoner turns out to be a learned Abbé, who teaches Dantès many languages, sciences, history, and other subjects. They become as father and son, and when the Abbé is about to die, he reveals to Dantès the hiding place of a long-secret buried treasure, consisting of untold wealth in gold coins, diamonds, and other precious jewels.
After fourteen years of bitter imprisonment and hardships, and after a very daring and miraculous escape, Dantès is able to discover the buried treasure on the island of Monte Cristo, and so he buys the island. He becomes the Count of Monte Cristo and dedicates himself to becoming God's avenging angel. The rest of his life is spent, at first, performing acts of goodness and charity for the good people whom he has known. Then he devotes his life to bringing about God's retribution against the evil people who were responsible for his imprisonment. The largest portion of the novel deals with his unique methods of effecting this revenge against his enemies, who became, during Dantès' fourteen years of imprisonment, very powerful and very wealthy people.
Luigi Vampa Chief of a large gang of bandits, whose headquarters are in the ancient catacombs outside of Rome. Some years earlier, Monte Cristo met Vampa when the bandit was still a young shepherd, and they exchanged gifts which should have made them lifelong friends, but apparently Vampa forgot because he later tried to capture the Count only to be captured by the Count. The Count could have turned Vampa over to "Roman justice," which would have quickly snuffed out his life, but instead, the two men parted friends, with the condition that Vampa and his band would always respect the Count and all of the Count's friends — this is how the Count was able to so easily rescue Albert de Morcerf. Of course, there is always the suspicion (or knowledge) that the Count "arranged" the kidnapping in the first place, so as to make Albert indebted to him, because it is through Albert's obligations that the Count will be introduced to all of his enemies in Paris, including Albert's father, who betrayed Edmond Dantès many years ago. Vampa also serves the Count by kidnapping Monsieur Danglars at the end of the novel and holding him prisoner until the Baron is forced to spend all of the five million francs that he embezzled from charity hospitals. Again, every indication points to the Count of Monte Cristo's arranging the kidnapping, thus effecting his final revenge against Danglars.
Signor Pastrini The owner of the Hotel de Londres in Rome who arranges for the meeting between the Count of Monte Cristo and Albert de Morcerf, a meeting which the Count anticipates so that his introduction to his enemies can be effected.
Peppino An agent of Luigi Vampa, he is deeply indebted to the Count of Monte Cristo for saving his life. Peppino was sentenced to death, and the Count used his wealth (he gave one of the three enormous emeralds from his treasures to the Pope, who installed it in his tiara) and his influence to buy a pardon for Peppino, just minutes before Peppino was to be executed.
ALI, the Count's mute Nubian valet He serves virtually no function in the novel except to lasso Madame de Villefort's runaway horses, thus obligating the Villeforts to the Count.
Jacopo Dantès first meets Jacopo when he escapes from the Chateau d'If. Swimming toward a ship which he hopes will rescue him, he is approaching the vessel when his strength gives out. He is pulled out of the water by Jacopo, who then lends him a pair of pants and a shirt. Thus, Monte Cristo is indebted to Jacopo for saving his life and is symbolically aligned with him by sharing Jacopo's clothes.
Later, when Monte Cristo pretends to be wounded on the island of Monte Cristo, Jacopo proves his devotion and loyalty to the Count by volunteering to give up his share of the smuggling bounty in order to look after his friend. Thus, Monte Cristo now knows that he has found a loyal and devoted friend whom he can fully trust to help him once he has recovered the treasure of the Spada family. Later, Jacopo is fully rewarded for his loyalty to the Count by being made, among other things, the captain of Monte Cristo's private yacht.
Enemies of the Count
(and Their Families and Friends)
Monsieur De Villefort Villefort is described early in the novel as the type of person who "would sacrifice anything to his ambition, even his own father." And throughout the novel, whenever political expediency demands it, he denies his own father, who was a Bonapartist and therefore opposed to the ruling royalty. When it is discovered that Edmond Dantès has a letter from the island of Elba, where Napoleon is confined, to be delivered to Villefort's father (Monsieur Noirtier), Villefort, in order to protect his own interest, has Dantès imprisoned in the impregnable fortress of the Chateau d'If, from which there is no escape. (Villefort is the prosecuting attorney, with great powers of life and death.) In addition, Villefort closes his ears to the entreaties of the elder Dantès, as well as to Monsieur Morrel, who tries on several occasions to plead for Dantès' release. Because of his political ambitions, Villefort is willing to have an innocent man imprisoned for life. Thus, he becomes the central enemy against whom the Count of Monte Cristo effects revenge. During Dantès' fourteen years of imprisonment, Villefort uses all sorts of conniving means to achieve the powerful post of Deputy Minister of France; he becomes the most powerful law enforcement man in the nation. He has also made a politically advantageous marriage to the daughter of the Marquis and Marquise de Saint-Méran and has one daughter, Valentine, by that marriage. He later takes a second wife and has one son, Edouard, by her. He also has had an affair with a woman who becomes the Baroness Danglars, and Villefort uses his wife's family mansion (Monte Cristo later purchases this mansion) to conceal his mistress (the woman who will become Madame Danglars) while she is pregnant. When the child is born, Villefort announces that the child is stillborn and takes the child in a box to the garden, where he plans to bury him alive. However, an assassin who has a vendetta for Villefort stabs him and, thinking that the box contains treasure, he takes it, only to find that it contains an infant who is ultimately raised by him and his sister-in-law. The boy is named Benedetto, and he will later be brought back to Paris by Monte Cristo as Prince Cavalcanti and will accuse his own father, Villefort, of all of his dastardly deeds. This is part of Monte Cristo's revenge: A son whom the father tried to kill as an infant becomes the instrument of Divine Justice and accuses and destroys the evil father.
Renée, the first Madame de Villefort, née Mademoiselle Saint-Méran The mother of Valentine. Her marriage to Villefort was "politically" arranged, and she does not appear in the novel.
Valentine De Villefort Valentine is the daughter of the first Madame de Villefort and is, therefore, the granddaughter of the Marquis and Marquise de Saint-Méran, whose fortune she is due to inherit. This fortune causes extreme envy in her stepmother. Valentine, like her brother, Edouard, and Albert de Morcerf and Eugénie Danglars represent the innocent persons who are trapped by the evil machinations of one or both parents.
Valentine's mother, as far as we know, was an innocent person, and Valentine herself represents the absolute purity of young womanhood who will attract the pure love of the noble Maximilien Morrel. She unknowingly also attracts the enmity of her wicked stepmother, who tries to poison her. Since it is the Count of Monte Cristo who recognizes the stepmother's envy and greed and because he instructs her in the use of poison, the Count undergoes his greatest change as a result of his exposure to some of the children of his enemies. Prior to the realization that his beloved friend, Maximilien, loves Valentine, The Count had begun his revenge with the biblical philosophy that the sins of the father will be visited upon the later generations, even unto the fourth generation. Therefore, he is not concerned that Valentine's stepmother might poison her; this would be proper punishment for the wicked father. It is only when Maximilien Morrel reveals that Valentine is his true love that the Count undergoes a significant change of heart, and because of the Count's love for Maximilien, he sets a plot in motion that will save the life of the daughter of his most hated enemy. To do so, however, he must ask her to undergo such tremendous terrors as being entombed alive, until she is reborn into happiness with Maximilien at the end of the novel.
Héloise, the second Madame de Villefort Early in the novel, in Paris, the Count of Monte Cristo became acquainted with Madame de Villefort, and in an intimate conversation, he discussed with her his extensive knowledge of poisons, particularly a poison known as "brucine" which, taken in small doses, can cure a person but which, taken in larger doses, will kill one. Since Madame de Villefort has a child named Edouard, she becomes insanely jealous of the large fortune which her stepdaughter, Valentine, will inherit from the Marquis and Marquise de Saint-Méran. Likewise, Valentine is to inherit most of Monsieur Noirtier's fortune, making her one of the wealthiest heiresses in France. In Madame de Villefort's desire to possess the wealth that Valentine is to inherit, she poisons both the Marquis and the Marquise (and during the process, one of the servants, Barrois), and then she believes that she has also successfully poisoned Valentine. Later, when her husband accuses her of the poisonings and demands that she commit suicide or else face public execution, she poisons both herself and their nine-year-old son, leaving Villefort totally distraught. Thus, the Count's revenge is complete against the cruel and inhuman Monsieur de Villefort.
Edouard De Villefort The young nine-year-old son of the second Madame de Villefort and her husband. He is merely an innocent pawn caught in a vicious power struggle. The death of this innocent young boy causes the Count of Monte Cristo to re-evaluate his belief in the rightness of the "sins of the father being visited upon the son." The Count feels deep remorse over the death of the young boy, and he tries to save his life, but on failing to do so, he places the innocent, dead boy beside the body of his dead mother.
Monsieur Noirtier Villefort's very strong-willed father, who is the source of great embarrassment to Villefort and a threat to his ambitions. Monsieur Noirtier was one of France's leading Bonapartists (supporters of Napoleon), and his political views, his power in the Bonapartist party, and his influence make him a thorn in the side of his son, an opportunist who is willing to support whichever political party is in power. It is because of a letter carried by Edmond Dantès and addressed to Monsieur Noirtier and sent from someone on the Isle of Elba (probably Napoleon himself), that Villefort is persuaded to imprison Edmond Dantès so that no royalists (supporters of the king) will ever know that Villefort's father is so intimately associated with Napoleon. Later in the novel, when Monsieur Noirtier is paralyzed, he is able to communicate only with his servant, Barrois, and with his beloved granddaughter, Valentine, whom he tries to warn about the intricate plots surrounding her because of her pending inheritance.
Monsieur Danglars, later Baron Danglars When we first meet this envious and devious man, we are immediately aware that he has a jealous hatred for Edmond Dantès simply because Dantès is younger, more capable, more assured, and self-confident and because he is a thoroughly good-natured young man of nineteen, with complete openness, honesty, and frankness. Danglars is the one who conceives of the conspiracy against Dantès, and he is the one responsible for writing the treacherous, anonymous note which sends Dantès to prison for fourteen years.
The note and the handwriting are permanently engraved in Dantès' eyes, and years later he is able to confirm Danglars' evil duplicity by another sample of his handwriting, in addition to the somewhat reliable testimony which Caderousse tells to the Abbé Busoni, an alias for the Count of Monte Cristo. By various illegal means, Danglars first ingratiates himself into the family of a prominent banker, later marries the banker's widow, and by using illegal banking methods, he quickly becomes an extremely wealthy man. The Count of Monte Cristo, however, is even more clever, and he gradually involves himself in Danglars' finances to the point that Danglars eventually goes bankrupt. But he does manage to confiscate five million francs in bank notes, and he flees to Italy, hoping to have them cashed. He is captured by the bandit chief Luigi Vampa, an old friend of the Count of Monte Cristo, and then he is gradually stripped of all his five million francs. He is finally freed by the bandits, but he is now an old and broken man, and, worst of all, he is penniless. The Count's vengeance has at last been effected.
Baroness Danglars She is the wife of Danglars, but they have lived separate lives for over seven years, and both have their own separate lovers. At present, her lover is Lucien Debray, an officer in Baron Danglars' banking establishment, who is collaborating with her to manipulate stocks and bonds so that they can accumulate large sums of money. When their scheme is over, because Danglars is on the verge of bankruptcy, young Lucien divides the money and then drops Madame Danglars as his mistress. Madame Danglars also figures prominently in another aspect of the plot. Earlier, she had an affair with Monsieur Villefort, the Count's archenemy, and she retired to Villefort's wife's family estate to have their child in secrecy. The estate is later purchased by the Count of Monte Cristo, and her son, whom she thought to be dead, is paid by the Count of Monte Cristo to pretend to be the wealthy Prince Cavalcanti. As such, her illegitimate son becomes engaged to her own legitimate daughter, Eugénie.
Eugénie Danglars The daughter who is first engaged to Albert de Morcerf and then, in another arranged marriage, to the bogus Prince Cavalcanti, alias the criminal Benedetto, who is actually her mother's illegitimate son. She abhors the idea of marriage and bondage and wants to live as a liberated woman in charge of her own destiny. When her fiancé is exposed as a fraud and a murderer, she and a girl friend escape; they hope to reach Rome by a circuitous route. Her disappearance is one of the final blows to the pride of her villainous father.
Fernand Mondego, alias the Count de Morcerf In his youth, Fernand was a simple fisherman and a sometime smuggler who was in love with the woman whom Edmond Dantès was engaged to, Mercédès Herrera. Because Mercédès loved Fernand as a brother, Edmond Dantds trusted him. However, it is Fernand who actually mailed the letter condemning Dantès, hoping all the while that if Dantès was arrested, he would then be able to marry Mercédès. By evil means, he was able to use his smuggling skills and his treachery in warfare to eventually be made a Count and awarded an immense sum of money. Sometime during his rise to power, he married Mercédès, who had waited a long time for Dantès, but finally abandoned hope. Fernand gained most of his wealth by betraying a high authority named Ali Pasha, whose daughter he sold into slavery, and who is now the paramour of the Count of Monte Cristo. When all of his treachery is exposed and he discovers that his wife and son have deserted him, Fernand shoots himself.
Mercédès Herrera, later the Countess de Morcerf She is the innocent victim of many of the above machinations. She loved only Edmond Dantès, and when he seemingly disappeared forever, she attempted to care for his father. When the elderly Dantès died, she had no place to go, and so she succumbed to pressure and married Fernand. As the Countess de Morcerf, she became an educated and distinguished but unhappy woman. She is the only person who knows that the Count of Monte Cristo is really Edmond Dantès. When she discovers the full extent of her husband's treachery, she leaves his house without any of his wealth (giving all her money to charity hospitals), and she returns to the small house which once belonged to Edmond Dantès' father, there to live out her life in deep prayer.
Albert De Morcerf When the young Viscount Albert was visiting Rome, he happened to be staying in the same hotel where the Count of Monte Cristo was staying. They became close acquaintances, and when Albert was kidnapped by a gang of bandits, whose chief was Luigi Vampa, a man deeply indebted to the Count of Monte Cristo, the Count was able to rescue Albert before the bandits put him to death. Thus, young Albert was indebted to Monte Cristo forever for saving his life. Because of Albert's obligation to him, the Count was later able to be introduced to all of his enemies in Paris, including Albert's father, Count de Morcerf (alias Fernand), who betrayed Dantès many years ago. Albert, however, apparently inherited all of his mother's goodness and none of his father's treachery. Eventually, Albert wins the love and respect of the Count of Monte Cristo, and even though the Count is on the verge of killing Albert in a duel after he is challenged and insulted by Albert, the Count's willingness to recognize Albert's goodness is another example of "an exception" to his belief in the "sons of the father rightly inheriting their father's guilt."
Benedetto, alias Andrea Cavalcanti Being the illegitimate son of the immoral Madame Danglars and the corrupt, ambitious, and despicable Villefort, Benedetto represents almost pure evil. It is only by luck that he was not buried alive as an infant, but as his father, Villefort, was about to bury him, Bertuccio saw the box that Benedetto was in and mistakenly believed it to be filled with treasure. Bertuccio hoped to revenge himself on Villefort, and so he stabbed him and took the baby to his sister-in-law. Benedetto lived with her and made her life miserable. Then one day, he tied her up, beat her, and stole all of her money. Later, he was caught and found himself in prison, with Caderousse as a cellmate. By the time of the story, Monte Cristo has tracked him down and has paid him to disguise himself as a wealthy Italian nobleman so that he can use Benedetto in his larger, ultimate plan for total revenge against the traitorous Baron Danglars (by having him become engaged to Eugénie Danglars) and by exposing Villefort as the would-be murderer of his own infant son.
The Marquis And The Marquise De Saint-Mèran The first in-laws of Villefort, whose granddaughter, Valentine, will be the sole inheritor of their fortune, thus arousing the envy of the second Madame de Villefort, who poisons both the Marquis and the Marquise so that Valentine can inherit their fortune immediately and she can then poison Valentine, insuring that Edouard, Valentine's half-brother, will come into an immense fortune.
Monsieur De Boville He is the Director of Prisons, from whom Dantès buys financial notes which are invested in Monsieur Morrel's shipping firm. Dantès is also able to secretly extract Villefort's note condemning him to what Villefort believed would be a life of isolated imprisonment. Boville is also involved in devastating financial transactions with Danglars.
Doctor D'avrigny The attending physician to the Villeforts, who is convinced that the Marquis and the Marquise de Saint-Méran were poisoned. After the death of Barrois, whom the doctor is certain was the victim of the same poison, he threatens Villefort with a police investigation, but is persuaded to keep the matter quiet. With Valentine's "seeming" death, d'Avrigny joins Maximilien in demanding punishment for the "supposed" murderer.
Lucien Debray A young man in Monsieur Danglars' office who is having an affair with Madame Danglars; Debray and Madame Danglars are using certain information to destroy Danglars' fortune while increasing their own fortune tremendously.
Franz D'epinay One of the many men about town; he is a friend of Albert de Morcerf. Franz accompanies Albert to Rome, where he acts as an emissary between the bandits and Monte Cristo after Albert is captured by the bandit.
Conflict:
- Love Versus Alienation
Dantès declares himself an exile from humanity during the years in which he carries out his elaborate scheme of revenge. He feels cut off not only from all countries, societies, and individuals but also from normal human emotions. Dantès is unable to experience joy, sorrow, or excitement; in fact, the only emotions he is capable of feeling are vengeful hatred and occasional gratitude. It is plausible that Dantès’s extreme social isolation and narrow range of feeling are simply the result of his obsession with his role as the agent of Providence. It is not difficult to imagine that a decade-long devotion to a project like Dantès’s might take a dramatic toll on one’s psychology.
Yet Dantès’s alienation from humanity is not solely due to his obsessive lust for revenge but also to his lack of love for any living person. Though he learns of his enemies’ treachery years before he escapes from prison, his alienation from humanity begins to take hold only when Abbé Faria dies. Until Faria’s death, Dantès’s love for Faria keeps him connected to his own humanity, by keeping the humanizing emotion of love alive within him. When Dantès learns that his father is dead and that Mercédès has married another man, his alienation is complete. There are no longer any living people whom he loves, and he loses hold of any humanizing force.
This humanizing force eventually returns when Dantès falls in love with Haydée. This relationship reconciles Dantès to his humanity and enables him to feel real emotion once again. In a triumphant declaration of emotion, he says to Haydée, “through you I again connect myself with life, through you I shall suffer, through you rejoice.” Dantès’s overcomes his alienation, both from society and from his own humanity, through his love of another human being.
Climax
Dantès slowly brings complete devastation upon Caderousse, Fernand, Villefort, and Danglars.
Denouement:
After his intervention in the de Villefort poisoning case leads Héloïse de Villefort to kill both herself and her son Edward, the Count realizes that maybe he's taken things a little too far. His attempts to save Edward fail, and he's thrown into a crisis of conscience. He subsequently allows Danglars to escape from Luigi Vampa with his life, though not before taking every last penny.
The de Villefort incident disturbs the Count's plan and signals a great, if late, shift in the narrative, casting Monte Cristo's whole plan into a new and disturbing light.
Ending:
If you've read the "What's Up With the Title?" section, you already know that there's some serious Christian symbolism going on in The Count of Monte Cristo. (If you haven't read that section, now might be the time.) Nowhere is that more apparent than at the book's end. For one thing, the Count literally brings someone back from the dead – at least as far as Maximilian is concerned. Also, as you might recall – especially if you've just found out what's up with the title – you know that this happens at a place called Mount Christ. Oh, and the guy who did the resurrecting has taken on the name of the place that's named after Jesus.
So, we've got this sort of literal resurrection thing, and a direct reference to Jesus Christ. "But is Valentine really the only person/thing that's being resurrected?", you ask. No way, we answer. The ending is about a broader kind of redemption and rebirth. Remember, the Count has just had a crisis of conscience (he's like, "oh man, was all that revenge stuff worth it?"). He's made some amends, but he has something special cooked up for Maximilian, a kind of positive lesson, a lesson which he puts neatly into a couple of sentences:
As for you, Morrel, this is the whole secret of my behaviour towards you: there is neither happiness nor misfortune in this world, there is merely the comparison between one state and another, nothing more. Only someone who has suffered the deepest misfortune is capable of experiencing the heights of felicity. Maximilian, you must needs have wished to die, to know how good it is to live. (117.149)
This is the ultimate lesson taken away from Monte Cristo's years of pain and suffering. It basically boils down to "No pain, no gain" or, to be needlessly wordy, "No suffering, no cherishment of life." And who should know better than the Count? It must be said, too, that it's a deeply Christian sentiment. In the Good Book, Jesus must suffer in order to redeem mankind, which is to say, only by his suffering can they come to enjoy the afterlife. If all this weren't enough, well, it helps to look at MC's parting words to Maximilian and Valentine. "So, do live and be happy, children dear to my heart," he tells them, "and never forget that, until the day when God deigns to unveil the future to mankind, all human wisdom is contained in these two words: 'wait' and 'hope'!" (117.150). He's telling them to wait patiently until Judgment Day. Monte Cristo himself already had his own sort of miniature version of it, but, as we know, it didn't go quite right. Now, just before he sails off into the sunset, he tells them to wait for the real deal.
That said, they hope, and we hope, that Monte Cristo will be back too, and long before Judgment Day. After all, everybody loves a good sequel.
Moral of the story
The people who betrayed the count ended up by paying with their lives as he cleverly took his revenge on each one. Plus, the fact that the count actually really did find treasure and good friends (in the form of pirates) meant that he was a good person who attracted good people. Regardless of the fact that the pirates could have treated him badly and even shot him when he found the treasure, they didn't, they became his friends and they benefitted from his success.
The main moral is that the bad deeds we do in life do not go unpunished and the good ones get rewarded.
I. Vocabulary build up
- Rigged - fitted or equipped with necessary rigging (sails and shrouds and stays etc)
- Laden - filled with a great quantity.
- Strait - a narrow channel of the sea joining two larger bodies of water.
- Sedately - in a sedate manner
- Vague - lacking clarity or distinctness.
- Disquietude - feelings of anxiety that make you tense and irritable.
K. Personal Comment:
The Count of Monte Cristo is an adventure novel.
