Reading Help The Three Musketeers Ch.19-40
can my eyes have been not to have seen you during the two hours `
` of the sermon?" `
` `
` "I was within two paces of you, monsieur," replied the `
` procurator's wife; "but you did not perceive me because you had `
` no eyes but for the pretty lady to whom you just now gave the `
` holy water." `
` `
` Porthos pretended to be confused. "Ah," said he, "you have `
` remarked--" `
` `
` "I must have been blind not to have seen." `
` `
` "Yes," said Porthos, "that is a duchess of my acquaintance whom I `
` have great trouble to meet on account of the jealousy of her `
` husband, and who sent me word that she should come today to this `
` poor church, buried in this vile quarter, solely for the sake of `
` seeing me." `
` `
` "Monsieur Porthos," said the procurator's wife, "will you have `
` the kindness to offer me your arm for five minutes? I have `
` something to say to you." `
` `
` "Certainly, madame," said Porthos, winking to himself, as a `
` gambler does who laughs at the dupe he is about to pluck. `
` `
` At that moment d'Artagnan passed in pursuit of Milady; he cast a `
` passing glance at Porthos, and beheld this triumphant look. `
` `
` "Eh, eh!" said he, reasoning to himself according to the `
` strangely easy morality of that gallant period, "there is one who `
` will be equipped in good time!" `
` `
` Porthos, yielding to the pressure of the arm of the procurator's `
` wife, as a bark yields to the rudder, arrived at the cloister St. `
` Magloire--a little-frequented passage, enclosed with a turnstile `
` at each end. In the daytime nobody was seen there but mendicants `
` devouring their crusts, and children at play. `
` `
` "Ah, Monsieur Porthos," cried the procurator's wife, when she was `
` assured that no one who was a stranger to the population of the `
` locality could either see or hear her, "ah, Monsieur Porthos, you `
` are a great conqueror, as it appears!" `
` `
` "I, madame?" said Porthos, drawing himself up proudly; "how so?" `
` `
` "The signs just now, and the holy water! But that must be a `
` princess, at least--that lady with her Negro boy and her maid!" `
` `
` "My God! Madame, you are deceived," said Porthos; "she is simply `
` a duchess." `
` `
` "And that running footman who waited at the door, and that `
` carriage with a coachman in grand livery who sat waiting on his `
` seat?" `
` `
` Porthos had seen neither the footman nor the carriage, but with `
` the eye of a jealous woman, Mme. Coquenard had seen everything. `
` `
` Porthos regretted that he had not at once made the lady of the `
` red cushion a princess. `
` `
` "Ah, you are quite the pet of the ladies, Monsieur Porthos!" `
` resumed the procurator's wife, with a sigh. `
` `
` "Well," responded Porthos, "you may imagine, with the physique `
` with which nature has endowed me, I am not in want of good luck." `
` `
` "Good Lord, how quickly men forget!" cried the procurator's wife, `
` raising her eyes toward heaven. `
` `
` "Less quickly than the women, it seems to me," replied Porthos; `
` "for I, madame, I may say I was your victim, when wounded, dying, `
` I was abandoned by the surgeons. I, the offspring of a noble `
` family, who placed reliance upon your friendship--I was near `
` dying of my wounds at first, and of hunger afterward, in a `
` beggarly inn at Chantilly, without you ever deigning once to `
` reply to the burning letters I addressed to you." `
` `
` "But, Monsieur Porthos," murmured the procurator's wife, who `
` began to feel that, to judge by the conduct of the great ladies `
` of the time, she was wrong. `
` `
` "I, who had sacrificed for you the Baronne de--" `
` `
` "I know it well." `
` `
` "The Comtesse de--" `
` `
` "Monsieur Porthos, be generous!" `
` `
` "You are right, madame, and I will not finish." `
` `
` "But it was my husband who would not hear of lending." `
` `
` "Madame Coquenard," said Porthos, "remember the first letter you `
` wrote me, and which I preserve engraved in my memory." `
` `
` The procurator's wife uttered a groan. `
` `
` "Besides," said she, "the sum you required me to borrow was `
` rather large." `
` `
` "Madame Coquenard, I gave you the preference. I had but to write `
` to the Duchesse--but I won't repeat her name, for I am incapable `
` of compromising a woman; but this I know, that I had but to write `
` to her and she would have sent me fifteen hundred." `
` `
` The procurator's wife shed a tear. `
` `
` "Monsieur Porthos," said she, "I can assure you that you have `
` severely punished me; and if in the time to come you should find `
` yourself in a similar situation, you have but to apply to me." `
` `
` "Fie, madame, fie!" said Porthos, as if disgusted. "Let us not `
` talk about money, if you please; it is humiliating." `
` `
` "Then you no longer love me!" said the procurator's wife, slowly `
` and sadly. `
` `
` Porthos maintained a majestic silence. `
` `
` "And that is the only reply you make? Alas, I understand." `
` `
` "Think of the offense you have committed toward me, madame! It `
` remains HERE!" said Porthos, placing his hand on his heart, and `
` pressing it strongly. `
` `
` "I will repair it, indeed I will, my dear Porthos." `
` `
` "Besides, what did I ask of you?" resumed Porthos, with a `
` movement of the shoulders full of good fellowship. "A loan, `
` nothing more! After all, I am not an unreasonable man. I know `
` you are not rich, Madame Coquenard, and that your husband is `
` obliged to bleed his poor clients to squeeze a few paltry crowns `
` from them. Oh! If you were a duchess, a marchioness, or a `
` countess, it would be quite a different thing; it would be `
` unpardonable." `
` `
` The procurator's wife was piqued. `
` `
` "Please to know, Monsieur Porthos," said she, "that my strongbox, `
` the strongbox of a procurator's wife though it may be, is better `
` filled than those of your affected minxes." `
` `
` "The doubles the offense," said Porthos, disengaging his arm from `
` that of the procurator's wife; "for if you are rich, Madame `
` Coquenard, then there is no excuse for your refusal." `
` `
` "When I said rich," replied the procurator's wife, who saw that `
` she had gone too far, "you must not take the word literally. I `
` am not precisely rich, though I am pretty well off." `
` `
` "Hold, madame," said Porthos, "let us say no more upon the `
` subject, I beg of you. You have misunderstood me, all sympathy `
` is extinct between us." `
` `
` "Ingrate that you are!" `
` `
` "Ah! I advise you to complain!" said Porthos. `
` `
` "Begone, then, to your beautiful duchess; I will detain you no `
` longer." `
` `
` "And she is not to be despised, in my opinion." `
` `
` "Now, Monsieur Porthos, once more, and this is the last! Do you `
` love me still?" `
` `
` "Ah, madame," said Porthos, in the most melancholy tone he could `
` assume, "when we are about to enter upon a campaign--a campaign, `
` in which my presentiments tell me I shall be killed--" `
` `
` "Oh, don't talk of such things!" cried the procurator's wife, `
` bursting into tears. `
` `
` "Something whispers me so," continued Porthos, becoming more and `
` more melancholy. `
` `
` "Rather say that you have a new love." `
` `
` "Not so; I speak frankly to you. No object affects me; and I `
` even feel here, at the bottom of my heart, something which speaks `
` for you. But in fifteen days, as you know, or as you do not `
` know, this fatal campaign is to open. I shall be fearfully `
` preoccupied with my outfit. Then I must make a journey to see my `
` family, in the lower part of Brittany, to obtain the sum `
` necessary for my departure." `
` `
` Porthos observed a last struggle between love and avarice. `
` `
` "And as," continued he, "the duchess whom you saw at the church `
` has estates near to those of my family, we mean to make the `
` journey together. Journeys, you know, appear much shorter when `
` we travel two in company." `
` `
` "Have you no friends in Paris, then, Monsieur Porthos?" said the `
` procurator's wife. `
` `
` "I thought I had," said Porthos, resuming his melancholy air; `
` "but I have been taught my mistake." `
`
` of the sermon?" `
` `
` "I was within two paces of you, monsieur," replied the `
` procurator's wife; "but you did not perceive me because you had `
` no eyes but for the pretty lady to whom you just now gave the `
` holy water." `
` `
` Porthos pretended to be confused. "Ah," said he, "you have `
` remarked--" `
` `
` "I must have been blind not to have seen." `
` `
` "Yes," said Porthos, "that is a duchess of my acquaintance whom I `
` have great trouble to meet on account of the jealousy of her `
` husband, and who sent me word that she should come today to this `
` poor church, buried in this vile quarter, solely for the sake of `
` seeing me." `
` `
` "Monsieur Porthos," said the procurator's wife, "will you have `
` the kindness to offer me your arm for five minutes? I have `
` something to say to you." `
` `
` "Certainly, madame," said Porthos, winking to himself, as a `
` gambler does who laughs at the dupe he is about to pluck. `
` `
` At that moment d'Artagnan passed in pursuit of Milady; he cast a `
` passing glance at Porthos, and beheld this triumphant look. `
` `
` "Eh, eh!" said he, reasoning to himself according to the `
` strangely easy morality of that gallant period, "there is one who `
` will be equipped in good time!" `
` `
` Porthos, yielding to the pressure of the arm of the procurator's `
` wife, as a bark yields to the rudder, arrived at the cloister St. `
` Magloire--a little-frequented passage, enclosed with a turnstile `
` at each end. In the daytime nobody was seen there but mendicants `
` devouring their crusts, and children at play. `
` `
` "Ah, Monsieur Porthos," cried the procurator's wife, when she was `
` assured that no one who was a stranger to the population of the `
` locality could either see or hear her, "ah, Monsieur Porthos, you `
` are a great conqueror, as it appears!" `
` `
` "I, madame?" said Porthos, drawing himself up proudly; "how so?" `
` `
` "The signs just now, and the holy water! But that must be a `
` princess, at least--that lady with her Negro boy and her maid!" `
` `
` "My God! Madame, you are deceived," said Porthos; "she is simply `
` a duchess." `
` `
` "And that running footman who waited at the door, and that `
` carriage with a coachman in grand livery who sat waiting on his `
` seat?" `
` `
` Porthos had seen neither the footman nor the carriage, but with `
` the eye of a jealous woman, Mme. Coquenard had seen everything. `
` `
` Porthos regretted that he had not at once made the lady of the `
` red cushion a princess. `
` `
` "Ah, you are quite the pet of the ladies, Monsieur Porthos!" `
` resumed the procurator's wife, with a sigh. `
` `
` "Well," responded Porthos, "you may imagine, with the physique `
` with which nature has endowed me, I am not in want of good luck." `
` `
` "Good Lord, how quickly men forget!" cried the procurator's wife, `
` raising her eyes toward heaven. `
` `
` "Less quickly than the women, it seems to me," replied Porthos; `
` "for I, madame, I may say I was your victim, when wounded, dying, `
` I was abandoned by the surgeons. I, the offspring of a noble `
` family, who placed reliance upon your friendship--I was near `
` dying of my wounds at first, and of hunger afterward, in a `
` beggarly inn at Chantilly, without you ever deigning once to `
` reply to the burning letters I addressed to you." `
` `
` "But, Monsieur Porthos," murmured the procurator's wife, who `
` began to feel that, to judge by the conduct of the great ladies `
` of the time, she was wrong. `
` `
` "I, who had sacrificed for you the Baronne de--" `
` `
` "I know it well." `
` `
` "The Comtesse de--" `
` `
` "Monsieur Porthos, be generous!" `
` `
` "You are right, madame, and I will not finish." `
` `
` "But it was my husband who would not hear of lending." `
` `
` "Madame Coquenard," said Porthos, "remember the first letter you `
` wrote me, and which I preserve engraved in my memory." `
` `
` The procurator's wife uttered a groan. `
` `
` "Besides," said she, "the sum you required me to borrow was `
` rather large." `
` `
` "Madame Coquenard, I gave you the preference. I had but to write `
` to the Duchesse--but I won't repeat her name, for I am incapable `
` of compromising a woman; but this I know, that I had but to write `
` to her and she would have sent me fifteen hundred." `
` `
` The procurator's wife shed a tear. `
` `
` "Monsieur Porthos," said she, "I can assure you that you have `
` severely punished me; and if in the time to come you should find `
` yourself in a similar situation, you have but to apply to me." `
` `
` "Fie, madame, fie!" said Porthos, as if disgusted. "Let us not `
` talk about money, if you please; it is humiliating." `
` `
` "Then you no longer love me!" said the procurator's wife, slowly `
` and sadly. `
` `
` Porthos maintained a majestic silence. `
` `
` "And that is the only reply you make? Alas, I understand." `
` `
` "Think of the offense you have committed toward me, madame! It `
` remains HERE!" said Porthos, placing his hand on his heart, and `
` pressing it strongly. `
` `
` "I will repair it, indeed I will, my dear Porthos." `
` `
` "Besides, what did I ask of you?" resumed Porthos, with a `
` movement of the shoulders full of good fellowship. "A loan, `
` nothing more! After all, I am not an unreasonable man. I know `
` you are not rich, Madame Coquenard, and that your husband is `
` obliged to bleed his poor clients to squeeze a few paltry crowns `
` from them. Oh! If you were a duchess, a marchioness, or a `
` countess, it would be quite a different thing; it would be `
` unpardonable." `
` `
` The procurator's wife was piqued. `
` `
` "Please to know, Monsieur Porthos," said she, "that my strongbox, `
` the strongbox of a procurator's wife though it may be, is better `
` filled than those of your affected minxes." `
` `
` "The doubles the offense," said Porthos, disengaging his arm from `
` that of the procurator's wife; "for if you are rich, Madame `
` Coquenard, then there is no excuse for your refusal." `
` `
` "When I said rich," replied the procurator's wife, who saw that `
` she had gone too far, "you must not take the word literally. I `
` am not precisely rich, though I am pretty well off." `
` `
` "Hold, madame," said Porthos, "let us say no more upon the `
` subject, I beg of you. You have misunderstood me, all sympathy `
` is extinct between us." `
` `
` "Ingrate that you are!" `
` `
` "Ah! I advise you to complain!" said Porthos. `
` `
` "Begone, then, to your beautiful duchess; I will detain you no `
` longer." `
` `
` "And she is not to be despised, in my opinion." `
` `
` "Now, Monsieur Porthos, once more, and this is the last! Do you `
` love me still?" `
` `
` "Ah, madame," said Porthos, in the most melancholy tone he could `
` assume, "when we are about to enter upon a campaign--a campaign, `
` in which my presentiments tell me I shall be killed--" `
` `
` "Oh, don't talk of such things!" cried the procurator's wife, `
` bursting into tears. `
` `
` "Something whispers me so," continued Porthos, becoming more and `
` more melancholy. `
` `
` "Rather say that you have a new love." `
` `
` "Not so; I speak frankly to you. No object affects me; and I `
` even feel here, at the bottom of my heart, something which speaks `
` for you. But in fifteen days, as you know, or as you do not `
` know, this fatal campaign is to open. I shall be fearfully `
` preoccupied with my outfit. Then I must make a journey to see my `
` family, in the lower part of Brittany, to obtain the sum `
` necessary for my departure." `
` `
` Porthos observed a last struggle between love and avarice. `
` `
` "And as," continued he, "the duchess whom you saw at the church `
` has estates near to those of my family, we mean to make the `
` journey together. Journeys, you know, appear much shorter when `
` we travel two in company." `
` `
` "Have you no friends in Paris, then, Monsieur Porthos?" said the `
` procurator's wife. `
` `
` "I thought I had," said Porthos, resuming his melancholy air; `
` "but I have been taught my mistake." `
`