Reading Help The Three Musketeers Ch.19-40
stools in hand quite ready to sit down. Their jaws moved `
` preliminarily with fearful threatenings. `
` `
` "Indeed!" thought Porthos, casting a glance at the three hungry `
` clerks--for the errand boy, as might be expected, was not `
` admitted to the honors of the magisterial table, "in my `
` cousin's place, I would not keep such gourmands! They look `
` like shipwrecked sailors who have not eaten for six weeks." `
` `
` M. Coquenard entered, pushed along upon his armchair with `
` casters by Mme. Coquenard, whom Porthos assisted in rolling `
` her husband up to the table. He had scarcely entered when `
` he began to agitate his nose and his jaws after the example `
` of his clerks. `
` `
` "Oh, oh!" said he; "here is a soup which is rather `
` inviting." `
` `
` "What the devil can they smell so extraordinary in this `
` soup?" said Porthos, at the sight of a pale liquid, abundant `
` but entirely free from meat, on the surface of which a few `
` crusts swam about as rare as the islands of an archipelago. `
` `
` Mme. Coquenard smiled, and upon a sign from her everyone `
` eagerly took his seat. `
` `
` M. Coquenard was served first, then Porthos. Afterward Mme. `
` Coquenard filled her own plate, and distributed the crusts `
` without soup to the impatient clerks. At this moment the `
` door of the dining room unclosed with a creak, and Porthos `
` perceived through the half-open flap the little clerk who, `
` not being allowed to take part in the feast, ate his dry `
` bread in the passage with the double odor of the dining room `
` and kitchen. `
` `
` After the soup the maid brought a boiled fowl--a piece of `
` magnificence which caused the eyes of the diners to dilate `
` in such a manner that they seemed ready to burst. `
` `
` "One may see that you love your family, Madame Coquenard," `
` said the procurator, with a smile that was almost tragic. `
` "You are certainly treating your cousin very handsomely!" `
` `
` The poor fowl was thin, and covered with one of those thick, `
` bristly skins through which the teeth cannot penetrate with `
` all their efforts. The fowl must have been sought for a `
` long time on the perch, to which it had retired to die of `
` old age. `
` `
` "The devil!" thought Porthos, "this is poor work. I respect `
` old age, but I don't much like it boiled or roasted." `
` `
` And he looked round to see if anybody partook of his `
` opinion; but on the contrary, he saw nothing but eager eyes `
` which were devouring, in anticipation, that sublime fowl `
` which was the object of his contempt. `
` `
` Mme. Coquenard drew the dish toward her, skillfully detached `
` the two great black feet, which she placed upon her `
` husband's plate, cut off the neck, which with the head she `
` put on one side for herself, raised the wing for Porthos, `
` and then returned the bird otherwise intact to the servant `
` who had brought it in, who disappeared with it before the `
` Musketeer had time to examine the variations which `
` disappointment produces upon faces, according to the `
` characters and temperaments of those who experience it. `
` `
` In the place of the fowl a dish of haricot beans made its `
` appearance--an enormous dish in which some bones of mutton `
` that at first sight one might have believed to have some `
` meat on them pretended to show themselves. `
` `
` But the clerks were not the dupes of this deceit, and their `
` lugubrious looks settled down into resigned countenances. `
` `
` Mme. Coquenard distributed this dish to the young men with `
` the moderation of a good housewife. `
` `
` The time for wine came. M. Coquenard poured from a very `
` small stone bottle the third of a glass for each of the `
` young men, served himself in about the same proportion, and `
` passed the bottle to Porthos and Mme. Coquenard. `
` `
` The young men filled up their third of a glass with water; `
` then, when they had drunk half the glass, they filled it up `
` again, and continued to do so. This brought them, by the `
` end of the repast, to swallowing a drink which from the `
` color of the ruby had passed to that of a pale topaz. `
` `
` Porthos ate his wing of the fowl timidly, and shuddered when `
` he felt the knee of the procurator's wife under the table, `
` as it came in search of his. He also drank half a glass of `
` this sparingly served wine, and found it to be nothing but `
` that horrible Montreuil--the terror of all expert palates. `
` `
` M. Coquenard saw him swallowing this wine undiluted, and `
` sighed deeply. `
` `
` "Will you eat any of these beans, Cousin Porthos?" said Mme. `
` Coquenard, in that tone which says, "Take my advice, don't `
` touch them." `
` `
` "Devil take me if I taste one of them!" murmured Porthos to `
` himself, and then said aloud, "Thank you, my cousin, I am no `
` longer hungry." `
` `
` There was silence. Porthos could hardly keep his `
` countenance. `
` `
` The procurator repeated several times, "Ah, Madame `
` Coquenard! Accept my compliments; your dinner has been a `
` real feast. Lord, how I have eaten!" `
` `
` M. Coquenard had eaten his soup, the black feet of the fowl, `
` and the only mutton bone on which there was the least `
` appearance of meat. `
` `
` Porthos fancied they were mystifying him, and began to curl `
` his mustache and knit his eyebrows; but the knee of Mme. `
` Coquenard gently advised him to be patient. `
` `
` This silence and this interruption in serving, which were `
` unintelligible to Porthos, had, on the contrary, a terrible `
` meaning for the clerks. Upon a look from the procurator, `
` accompanied by a smile from Mme. Coquenard, they arose `
` slowly from the table, folded their napkins more slowly `
` still, bowed, and retired. `
` `
` "Go, young men! go and promote digestion by working," said `
` the procurator, gravely. `
` `
` The clerks gone, Mme. Coquenard rose and took from a buffet `
` a piece of cheese, some preserved quinces, and a cake which `
` she had herself made of almonds and honey. `
` `
` M. Coquenard knit his eyebrows because there were too many `
` good things. Porthos bit his lips because he saw not the `
` wherewithal to dine. He looked to see if the dish of beans `
` was still there; the dish of beans had disappeared. `
` `
` "A positive feast!" cried M. Coquenard, turning about in his `
` chair, "a real feast, EPULCE EPULORUM. Lucullus dines with `
` Lucullus." `
` `
` Porthos looked at the bottle, which was near him, and hoped `
` that with wine, bread, and cheese, he might make a dinner; `
` but wine was wanting, the bottle was empty. M. and Mme. `
` Coquenard did not seem to observe it. `
` `
` "This is fine!" said Porthos to himself; "I am prettily `
` caught!" `
` `
` He passed his tongue over a spoonful of preserves, and stuck `
` his teeth into the sticky pastry of Mme. Coquenard. `
` `
` "Now," said he, "the sacrifice is consummated! Ah! if I had `
` not the hope of peeping with Madame Coquenard into her `
` husband's chest!" `
` `
` M. Coquenard, after the luxuries of such a repast, which he `
` called an excess, felt the want of a siesta. Porthos began `
` to hope that the thing would take place at the present `
` sitting, and in that same locality; but the procurator would `
` listen to nothing, he would be taken to his room, and was `
` not satisfied till he was close to his chest, upon the edge `
` of which, for still greater precaution, he placed his feet. `
` `
` The procurator's wife took Porthos into an adjoining room, `
` and they began to lay the basis of a reconciliation. `
` `
` "You can come and dine three times a week," said Mme. `
` Coquenard. `
` `
` "Thanks, madame!" said Porthos, "but I don't like to abuse `
` your kindness; besides, I must think of my outfit!" `
` `
` "That's true," said the procurator's wife, groaning, "that `
` unfortunate outfit!" `
` `
` "Alas, yes," said Porthos, "it is so." `
` `
` "But of what, then, does the equipment of your company `
` consist, Monsieur Porthos?" `
` `
` "Oh, of many things!" said Porthos. "The Musketeers are, as `
` you know, picked soldiers, and they require many things `
` useless to the Guardsmen or the Swiss." `
` `
` "But yet, detail them to me." `
` `
` "Why, they may amount to--", said Porthos, who preferred `
` discussing the total to taking them one by one. `
` `
` The procurator's wife waited tremblingly. `
` `
` "To how much?" said she. "I hope it does not exceed--" She `
` stopped; speech failed her. `
` `
` "Oh, no," said Porthos, "it does not exceed two thousand `
` five hundred livres! I even think that with economy I could `
` manage it with two thousand livres." `
`
` preliminarily with fearful threatenings. `
` `
` "Indeed!" thought Porthos, casting a glance at the three hungry `
` clerks--for the errand boy, as might be expected, was not `
` admitted to the honors of the magisterial table, "in my `
` cousin's place, I would not keep such gourmands! They look `
` like shipwrecked sailors who have not eaten for six weeks." `
` `
` M. Coquenard entered, pushed along upon his armchair with `
` casters by Mme. Coquenard, whom Porthos assisted in rolling `
` her husband up to the table. He had scarcely entered when `
` he began to agitate his nose and his jaws after the example `
` of his clerks. `
` `
` "Oh, oh!" said he; "here is a soup which is rather `
` inviting." `
` `
` "What the devil can they smell so extraordinary in this `
` soup?" said Porthos, at the sight of a pale liquid, abundant `
` but entirely free from meat, on the surface of which a few `
` crusts swam about as rare as the islands of an archipelago. `
` `
` Mme. Coquenard smiled, and upon a sign from her everyone `
` eagerly took his seat. `
` `
` M. Coquenard was served first, then Porthos. Afterward Mme. `
` Coquenard filled her own plate, and distributed the crusts `
` without soup to the impatient clerks. At this moment the `
` door of the dining room unclosed with a creak, and Porthos `
` perceived through the half-open flap the little clerk who, `
` not being allowed to take part in the feast, ate his dry `
` bread in the passage with the double odor of the dining room `
` and kitchen. `
` `
` After the soup the maid brought a boiled fowl--a piece of `
` magnificence which caused the eyes of the diners to dilate `
` in such a manner that they seemed ready to burst. `
` `
` "One may see that you love your family, Madame Coquenard," `
` said the procurator, with a smile that was almost tragic. `
` "You are certainly treating your cousin very handsomely!" `
` `
` The poor fowl was thin, and covered with one of those thick, `
` bristly skins through which the teeth cannot penetrate with `
` all their efforts. The fowl must have been sought for a `
` long time on the perch, to which it had retired to die of `
` old age. `
` `
` "The devil!" thought Porthos, "this is poor work. I respect `
` old age, but I don't much like it boiled or roasted." `
` `
` And he looked round to see if anybody partook of his `
` opinion; but on the contrary, he saw nothing but eager eyes `
` which were devouring, in anticipation, that sublime fowl `
` which was the object of his contempt. `
` `
` Mme. Coquenard drew the dish toward her, skillfully detached `
` the two great black feet, which she placed upon her `
` husband's plate, cut off the neck, which with the head she `
` put on one side for herself, raised the wing for Porthos, `
` and then returned the bird otherwise intact to the servant `
` who had brought it in, who disappeared with it before the `
` Musketeer had time to examine the variations which `
` disappointment produces upon faces, according to the `
` characters and temperaments of those who experience it. `
` `
` In the place of the fowl a dish of haricot beans made its `
` appearance--an enormous dish in which some bones of mutton `
` that at first sight one might have believed to have some `
` meat on them pretended to show themselves. `
` `
` But the clerks were not the dupes of this deceit, and their `
` lugubrious looks settled down into resigned countenances. `
` `
` Mme. Coquenard distributed this dish to the young men with `
` the moderation of a good housewife. `
` `
` The time for wine came. M. Coquenard poured from a very `
` small stone bottle the third of a glass for each of the `
` young men, served himself in about the same proportion, and `
` passed the bottle to Porthos and Mme. Coquenard. `
` `
` The young men filled up their third of a glass with water; `
` then, when they had drunk half the glass, they filled it up `
` again, and continued to do so. This brought them, by the `
` end of the repast, to swallowing a drink which from the `
` color of the ruby had passed to that of a pale topaz. `
` `
` Porthos ate his wing of the fowl timidly, and shuddered when `
` he felt the knee of the procurator's wife under the table, `
` as it came in search of his. He also drank half a glass of `
` this sparingly served wine, and found it to be nothing but `
` that horrible Montreuil--the terror of all expert palates. `
` `
` M. Coquenard saw him swallowing this wine undiluted, and `
` sighed deeply. `
` `
` "Will you eat any of these beans, Cousin Porthos?" said Mme. `
` Coquenard, in that tone which says, "Take my advice, don't `
` touch them." `
` `
` "Devil take me if I taste one of them!" murmured Porthos to `
` himself, and then said aloud, "Thank you, my cousin, I am no `
` longer hungry." `
` `
` There was silence. Porthos could hardly keep his `
` countenance. `
` `
` The procurator repeated several times, "Ah, Madame `
` Coquenard! Accept my compliments; your dinner has been a `
` real feast. Lord, how I have eaten!" `
` `
` M. Coquenard had eaten his soup, the black feet of the fowl, `
` and the only mutton bone on which there was the least `
` appearance of meat. `
` `
` Porthos fancied they were mystifying him, and began to curl `
` his mustache and knit his eyebrows; but the knee of Mme. `
` Coquenard gently advised him to be patient. `
` `
` This silence and this interruption in serving, which were `
` unintelligible to Porthos, had, on the contrary, a terrible `
` meaning for the clerks. Upon a look from the procurator, `
` accompanied by a smile from Mme. Coquenard, they arose `
` slowly from the table, folded their napkins more slowly `
` still, bowed, and retired. `
` `
` "Go, young men! go and promote digestion by working," said `
` the procurator, gravely. `
` `
` The clerks gone, Mme. Coquenard rose and took from a buffet `
` a piece of cheese, some preserved quinces, and a cake which `
` she had herself made of almonds and honey. `
` `
` M. Coquenard knit his eyebrows because there were too many `
` good things. Porthos bit his lips because he saw not the `
` wherewithal to dine. He looked to see if the dish of beans `
` was still there; the dish of beans had disappeared. `
` `
` "A positive feast!" cried M. Coquenard, turning about in his `
` chair, "a real feast, EPULCE EPULORUM. Lucullus dines with `
` Lucullus." `
` `
` Porthos looked at the bottle, which was near him, and hoped `
` that with wine, bread, and cheese, he might make a dinner; `
` but wine was wanting, the bottle was empty. M. and Mme. `
` Coquenard did not seem to observe it. `
` `
` "This is fine!" said Porthos to himself; "I am prettily `
` caught!" `
` `
` He passed his tongue over a spoonful of preserves, and stuck `
` his teeth into the sticky pastry of Mme. Coquenard. `
` `
` "Now," said he, "the sacrifice is consummated! Ah! if I had `
` not the hope of peeping with Madame Coquenard into her `
` husband's chest!" `
` `
` M. Coquenard, after the luxuries of such a repast, which he `
` called an excess, felt the want of a siesta. Porthos began `
` to hope that the thing would take place at the present `
` sitting, and in that same locality; but the procurator would `
` listen to nothing, he would be taken to his room, and was `
` not satisfied till he was close to his chest, upon the edge `
` of which, for still greater precaution, he placed his feet. `
` `
` The procurator's wife took Porthos into an adjoining room, `
` and they began to lay the basis of a reconciliation. `
` `
` "You can come and dine three times a week," said Mme. `
` Coquenard. `
` `
` "Thanks, madame!" said Porthos, "but I don't like to abuse `
` your kindness; besides, I must think of my outfit!" `
` `
` "That's true," said the procurator's wife, groaning, "that `
` unfortunate outfit!" `
` `
` "Alas, yes," said Porthos, "it is so." `
` `
` "But of what, then, does the equipment of your company `
` consist, Monsieur Porthos?" `
` `
` "Oh, of many things!" said Porthos. "The Musketeers are, as `
` you know, picked soldiers, and they require many things `
` useless to the Guardsmen or the Swiss." `
` `
` "But yet, detail them to me." `
` `
` "Why, they may amount to--", said Porthos, who preferred `
` discussing the total to taking them one by one. `
` `
` The procurator's wife waited tremblingly. `
` `
` "To how much?" said she. "I hope it does not exceed--" She `
` stopped; speech failed her. `
` `
` "Oh, no," said Porthos, "it does not exceed two thousand `
` five hundred livres! I even think that with economy I could `
` manage it with two thousand livres." `
`