The Count of Monte Cristo

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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