“And not go in search of other evils, I say. Listen to my advice.”
“You have had it also, sir, if I am not mistaken.”
“That I have, truly! most terrible it was! it is by a miracle I am here; you see how it has left me. I have need of repose to restore my strength; I was beginning to feel a little better. In the name of Heaven, what do you do here? Go away, I beseech you.”
“You always return to your go away. If I ought to go away, I would not have come. You keep saying, What do you come for? what do you come for? Sir, I am come home.”
“Home!”
“Tell me, have there been many deaths here?”
“Many!” cried Don Abbondio; and beginning with Perpetua, he gave a long list of individuals, and even whole families. Renzo expected, it is true, a similar recital; but hearing the names of so many acquaintances, friends, and relations, he was absorbed by his affliction, and could only exclaim, from time to time, “Misery! misery! misery!”
“And it is not yet over,” pursued Don Abbondio. “If those who remain do not listen to reason, and calm the heat of their brains, it will be the end of the world.”
“Do not concern yourself; I do not intend to remain here.”
“Heaven be praised! you talk reason at last. Go at once——”