"Oh, Mercedes. I have uttered your name with a sight of melancholy, with a groan of sorrow, with a last effort of despair. I have uttered it when frozen with cold, crouched on the straw in my dungeon. I have uttered it, consumed with heat, rolling on the stone floor of my prison. Mercedes, I must revenge myself, for I have suffered fourteen years. Fourteen years I wept, I cursed! Now I tell you, Mercedes, I must revenge myself!"
— Edmond Dantes, The Count of Monte Cristo
