Граф Монте-Кристо

Italy: Sinbad the Sailor.

           "

           "But,"repliedFranz,"thisambrosia,nodoubt,inpassingthroughmortalhandshaslostitsheavenlyappellationandassumedahumanname;invulgarphrase,whatmayyoutermthiscomposition,forwhich,totellthetruth,Idonotfeelanyparticulardesire?"

           "Ah,thusitisthatourmaterialoriginisrevealed,"criedSinbad;"wefrequentlypasssoneartohappinesswithoutseeing,withoutregardingit,orifwedoseeandregardit,yetwithoutrecognizingit.Areyouamanforthesubstantials,andisgoldyourgod?tastethis,andtheminesofPeru,Guzerat,andGolcondaareopenedtoyou.Areyouamanofimaginationapoet?tastethis,andtheboundariesofpossibilitydisappear;thefieldsofinfinitespaceopentoyou,youadvancefreeinheart,freeinmind,intotheboundlessrealmsofunfetteredrevery.Areyouambitious,anddoyouseekafterthegreatnessesoftheearth?tastethis,andinanhouryouwillbeaking,notakingofapettykingdomhiddeninsomecornerofEuropelikeFrance,Spain,orEngland,butkingoftheworld,kingoftheuniverse,kingofcreation;withoutbowingatthefeetofSatan,youwillbekingandmasterofallthekingdomsoftheearth.IsitnottemptingwhatIofferyou,andisitnotaneasything,sinceitisonlytodothus?look!"Atthesewordsheuncoveredthesmallcupwhichcontainedthesubstancesolauded,tookateaspoonfulofthemagicsweetmeat,raisedittohislips,andswalloweditslowlywithhiseyeshalfshutandhisheadbentbackwards.

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