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- Александр Дюма
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- Граф Монте-Кристо
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- Стр. 387/1279
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"
A
pardon
!
"
cried
the
people
with
one
voice
--
"
a
pardon
!
"
At
this
cry
Andrea
raised
his
head
.
"
Pardon
for
whom
?
"
cried
he
.
Peppino
remained
breathless
.
"
A
pardon
for
Peppino
,
called
Rocca
Priori
,
"
said
the
principal
friar
.
And
he
passed
the
paper
to
the
officer
commanding
the
carbineers
,
who
read
and
returned
it
to
him
.
"
For
Peppino
!
"
cried
Andrea
,
who
seemed
roused
from
the
torpor
in
which
he
had
been
plunged
.
"
Why
for
him
and
not
for
me
?
We
ought
to
die
together
.
I
was
promised
he
should
die
with
me
.
You
have
no
right
to
put
me
to
death
alone
.
I
will
not
die
alone
--
I
will
not
!
"
And
he
broke
from
the
priests
struggling
and
raving
like
a
wild
beast
,
and
striving
desperately
to
break
the
cords
that
bound
his
hands
.
The
executioner
made
a
sign
,
and
his
two
assistants
leaped
from
the
scaffold
and
seized
him
.
"
What
is
going
on
?
"
asked
Franz
of
the
count
;
for
,
as
all
the
talk
was
in
the
Roman
dialect
,
he
had
not
perfectly
understood
it
.
"
Do
you
not
see
?
"
returned
the
count
,
"
that
this
human
creature
who
is
about
to
die
is
furious
that
his
fellow-sufferer
does
not
perish
with
him
?
and
,
were
he
able
,
he
would
rather
tear
him
to
pieces
with
his
teeth
and
nails
than
let
him
enjoy
the
life
he
himself
is
about
to
be
deprived
of
.
Oh
,
man
,
man
--
race
of
crocodiles
,
"
cried
the
count
,
extending
his
clinched
hands
towards
the
crowd
,
"
how
well
do
I
recognize
you
there
,
and
that
at
all
times
you
are
worthy
of
yourselves
!
"
Meanwhile
Andrea
and
the
two
executioners
were
struggling
on
the
ground
,
and
he
kept
exclaiming
,
"
He
ought
to
die
!
--
he
shall
die
!
--
I
will
not
die
alone
!
"
"
Look
,
look
,
"
cried
the
count
,
seizing
the
young
men
's
hands
--
"
look
,
for
on
my
soul
it
is
curious
.
Here
is
a
man
who
had
resigned
himself
to
his
fate
,
who
was
going
to
the
scaffold
to
die
--
like
a
coward
,
it
is
true
,
but
he
was
about
to
die
without
resistance
.
Do
you
know
what
gave
him
strength
?
--
do
you
know
what
consoled
him
?
It
was
,
that
another
partook
of
his
punishment
--
that
another
partook
of
his
anguish
--
that
another
was
to
die
before
him
.
Lead
two
sheep
to
the
butcher
's
,
two
oxen
to
the
slaughterhouse
,
and
make
one
of
them
understand
that
his
companion
will
not
die
;
the
sheep
will
bleat
for
pleasure
,
the
ox
will
bellow
with
joy
.
But
man
--
man
,
whom
God
created
in
his
own
image
--
man
,
upon
whom
God
has
laid
his
first
,
his
sole
commandment
,
to
love
his
neighbor
--
man
,
to
whom
God
has
given
a
voice
to
express
his
thoughts
--
what
is
his
first
cry
when
he
hears
his
fellow-man
is
saved
?
A
blasphemy
.
Honor
to
man
,
this
masterpiece
of
nature
,
this
king
of
the
creation
!
"
And
the
count
burst
into
a
laugh
;
a
terrible
laugh
,
that
showed
he
must
have
suffered
horribly
to
be
able
thus
to
laugh
.
However
,
the
struggle
still
continued
,
and
it
was
dreadful
to
witness
.
The
people
all
took
part
against
Andrea
,
and
twenty
thousand
voices
cried
,
"
Put
him
to
death
!
put
him
to
death
!
"
Franz
sprang
back
,
but
the
count
seized
his
arm
,
and
held
him
before
the
window
.
"
What
are
you
doing
?
"
said
he
.
"
Do
you
pity
him
?
If
you
heard
the
cry
of
'
Mad
dog
!
'
you
would
take
your
gun
--
you
would
unhesitatingly
shoot
the
poor
beast
,
who
,
after
all
,
was
only
guilty
of
having
been
bitten
by
another
dog
And
yet
you
pity
a
man
who
,
without
being
bitten
by
one
of
his
race
,
has
yet
murdered
his
benefactor
;
and
who
,
now
unable
to
kill
any
one
,
because
his
hands
are
bound
,
wishes
to
see
his
companion
in
captivity
perish
.
No
,
no
--
look
,
look
!
"
The
command
was
needless
.
Franz
was
fascinated
by
the
horrible
spectacle
.
The
two
assistants
had
borne
Andrea
to
the
scaffold
,
and
there
,
in
spite
of
his
struggles
,
his
bites
,
and
his
cries
,
had
forced
him
to
his
knees
.
During
this
time
the
executioner
had
raised
his
mace
,
and
signed
to
them
to
get
out
of
the
way
;
the
criminal
strove
to
rise
,
but
,
ere
he
had
time
,
the
mace
fell
on
his
left
temple
.
A
dull
and
heavy
sound
was
heard
,
and
the
man
dropped
like
an
ox
on
his
face
,
and
then
turned
over
on
his
back
.
The
executioner
let
fall
his
mace
,
drew
his
knife
,
and
with
one
stroke
opened
his
throat
,
and
mounting
on
his
stomach
,
stamped
violently
on
it
with
his
feet
.
At
every
stroke
a
jet
of
blood
sprang
from
the
wound
.
This
time
Franz
could
contain
himself
no
longer
,
but
sank
,
half
fainting
,
into
a
seat
.
Albert
,
with
his
eyes
closed
,
was
standing
grasping
the
window-curtains
.
The
count
was
erect
and
triumphant
,
like
the
Avenging
Angel
!
When
Franz
recovered
his
senses
,
he
saw
Albert
drinking
a
glass
of
water
,
of
which
,
to
judge
from
his
pallor
,
he
stood
in
great
need
;
and
the
count
,
who
was
assuming
his
masquerade
costume
.
He
glanced
mechanically
towards
the
square
--
the
scene
was
wholly
changed
;
scaffold
,
executioners
,
victims
,
all
had
disappeared
;
only
the
people
remained
,
full
of
noise
and
excitement
.
The
bell
of
Monte
Citorio
,
which
only
sounds
on
the
pope
's
decease
and
the
opening
of
the
Carnival
,
was
ringing
a
joyous
peal
.
"
Well
,
"
asked
he
of
the
count
,
"
what
has
,
then
,
happened
?
"
