The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas (to read list txt) π

Description
The Three Musketeers is the first of three adventure novels written by Alexandre Dumas featuring the character of dβArtagnan.
The young dβArtagnan leaves home in Gascony for Paris to join the Kingβs Musketeers. On his way to Paris, the letter which will introduce him to the commander of the Musketeers is stolen by a mysterious man in the town of Meung. This βMan of Meungβ turns out to be a confidant of the infamous Cardinal Richelieu, the chief minister of the government of France.
When he arrives in Paris and seeks an audience with the commander of the Musketeers, dβArtagnan sees this man again and rushes to confront him. As he pushes his way out he provokes three inseparable musketeersβAthos, Porthos and Aramisβand ends up setting up duels with all three of them that afternoon. At the first of the duels he discovers, to his surprise, that each of the three is a second to the other. As they start to fight, they are ambushed by the Cardinalβs men and join forces. So begins one of the most enduring partnerships in literature.
When dβArtagnanβs landlord tells him that his wife has been kidnapped, dβArtagnan investigates, falls in love and becomes embroiled in a plot to destabilize France.
The Three Musketeers was first published in 1844 and has been adapted for stage, film, television, and animation many times; such is the endurance of its appeal. At its heart is a fast-paced tale of love and adventure.
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- Author: Alexandre Dumas
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When the two musketeers had entered; when the door was closed behind them; when the buzzing murmur of the antechamber, to which the summons which had been made had doubtless furnished fresh food, had recommenced; when M. de TrΓ©ville had three or four times paced in silence, and with a frowning brow, the whole length of his cabinet, passing each time before Porthos and Aramis, who were as upright and silent as if on paradeβ βhe stopped all at once full in front of them, and covering them from head to foot with an angry look, βDo you know what the king said to me,β cried he, βand that no longer ago than yesterday eveningβ βdo you know, gentlemen?β
βNo,β replied the two musketeers, after a momentβs silence, βno, sir, we do not.β
βBut I hope that you will do us the honor to tell us,β added Aramis, in his politest tone and with his most graceful bow.
βHe told me that he should henceforth recruit his Musketeers from among the Guards of Monsieur the Cardinal.β
βThe Guards of the cardinal! And why so?β asked Porthos, warmly.
βBecause he plainly perceives that his piquette2 stands in need of being enlivened by a mixture of good wine.β
The two musketeers reddened to the whites of their eyes. DβArtagnan did not know where he was, and wished himself a hundred feet underground.
βYes, yes,β continued M. de TrΓ©ville, growing warmer as he spoke, βand his majesty was right; for, upon my honor, it is true that the Musketeers make but a miserable figure at court. The cardinal related yesterday while playing with the king, with an air of condolence very displeasing to me, that the day before yesterday those damned Musketeers, those daredevilsβ βhe dwelt upon those words with an ironical tone still more displeasing to meβ βthose braggarts, added he, glancing at me with his tiger-catβs eye, had made a riot in the Rue FΓ©rou in a cabaret, and that a party of his Guards (I thought he was going to laugh in my face) had been forced to arrest the rioters! Morbleu! You must know something about it. Arrest musketeers! You were among themβ βyou were! Donβt deny it; you were recognized, and the cardinal named you. But itβs all my fault; yes, itβs all my fault, because it is myself who selects my men. You, Aramis, why the devil did you ask me for a uniform when you would have been so much better in a cassock? And you, Porthos, do you only wear such a fine golden baldric to suspend a sword of straw from it? And Athosβ βI donβt see Athos. Where is he?β
βIllβ ββ
βVery ill, say you? And of what malady?β
βIt is feared that it may be the smallpox, sir,β replied Porthos, desirous of taking his turn in the conversation; βand what is serious is that it will certainly spoil his face.β
βThe smallpox! Thatβs a great story to tell me, Porthos! Sick of the smallpox at his age! No, no; but wounded without doubt, killed, perhaps. Ah, if I knew! Sβblood! Messieurs Musketeers, I will not have this haunting of bad places, this quarreling in the streets, this swordplay at the crossways; and above all, I will not have occasion given for the cardinalβs Guards, who are brave, quiet, skillful men who never put themselves in a position to be arrested, and who, besides, never allow themselves to be arrested, to laugh at you! I am sure of itβ βthey would prefer dying on the spot to being arrested or taking back a step. To save yourselves, to scamper away, to fleeβ βthat is good for the kingβs Musketeers!β
Porthos and Aramis trembled with rage. They could willingly have strangled M. de TrΓ©ville, if, at the bottom of all this, they had not felt it was the great love he bore them which made him speak thus. They stamped upon the carpet with their feet; they bit their lips till the blood came, and grasped the hilts of their swords with all their might. All without had heard, as we have said, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis called, and had guessed, from M. de TrΓ©villeβs tone of voice, that he was very angry about something. Ten curious heads were glued to the tapestry and became pale with fury; for their ears, closely applied to the door, did not lose a syllable of what he said, while their mouths repeated as he went on, the insulting expressions of the captain to all the people in the antechamber. In an instant, from the door of the cabinet to the street gate, the whole hotel was boiling.
βAh! The kingβs Musketeers are arrested by the Guards of the cardinal, are they?β continued M. de TrΓ©ville, as furious at heart as his soldiers, but emphasizing his words and plunging them, one by one, so to say, like so many blows of a stiletto, into the bosoms of his auditors. βWhat! Six of his Eminenceβs Guards arrest six of his Majestyβs Musketeers! Morbleu! My part is taken! I will go straight to the louvre; I will give in my resignation as captain of the kingβs Musketeers to take a lieutenancy in the cardinalβs Guards, and if he refuses me, morbleu! I will turn abbΓ©.β
At these words, the murmur without became an explosion; nothing was to be heard but oaths and blasphemies. The morbleus, the sang Dieus, the morts touts les diables, crossed one another in the air. DβArtagnan looked for some tapestry behind which he might hide himself, and felt an immense inclination to crawl under the table.
βWell, my Captain,β said Porthos, quite beside himself, βthe truth is that we were six against six. But we were not captured by fair means; and before we had time to draw our swords, two of our party were dead, and Athos, grievously wounded, was very little better. For you know Athos. Well,
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