'Come, now,' the count said, touching his shoulder with his fiery hand. 'Are Ты once еще becoming a man, Maximilien?' 'Yes, because I am starting to suffer again.'
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'Alas, Madame,' the crown prosecutor replied imperturbably, 'I have reached the point where I only describe what is irreparable as a disaster.'
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Villefort: 'Well, Monsieur, I do declare, if, like you, I had nothing else to do, I should look for a less melancholy pastime. Count: 'Man is an ugly worm when Ты look at it through a solar microscope. But I think Ты сказал(-а) I have nothing to do. Now, Monsieur, I ask you, do Ты imagine Ты have anything to do? Or, to put it еще clearly, do Ты believe that what Ты do deserves to be called something?'
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Villefort: 'Well, when I work - and I work night and день - there are moments when I no longer remember; and when I no longer remember, I am happy as the dead are happy; but that is far better than suffering...'
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Edmond: Ты will be free now, priest. Ты can escape now, as i will never be. Priest: No! Ты will be free. Edmond: How would I do escape, then? Priest: Use ME!
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Count of Monte Cristo: Countess, you're wrong. I am not your Edmond. We have arrived at your home. Mercedes: You're right. Ты can never be my Edmond. Count of Monte Cristo: See, Ты сказал(-а) it yourself. I am not Edmond DANTES. Edmond DANTES is dead. Now, if you'll excuse me.
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Mercedes: What's wrong? Fernand: I'm bankrupt. All my debts have been called in. Also, I am to be arrested. Mercedes: For what? Fernand: Piracy, corruption, and murder. Mercedes: Did Ты do all these things? Fernand: Yes. But there's simply not the time to talk about it. The gendarmes are on their way, apparently, so hurry up and pack something.
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