Chapter 2 - Page 2
-
Recommend to friends -
Rate it:
-
Average Rating: 3.0 out of 5 based on 2 ratings
- 4 Favorites on Read Print
“Wait a minute, Porthos; let me first get rid of all this litter of satin and velvet.”
“Oh, never mind!” said Porthos, contemptuously; “it is all trash.”
“Trash, Porthos! Cloth at twenty livres an ell, gorgeous satin, regal velvet!”
“Then you think these clothes are-”
“Splendid, Porthos, splendid. I’ll wager that you alone in France have so many; and suppose you never had any more made, and were to live a hundred years, which wouldn’t astonish me, you could still wear a new dress the day of your death without being obliged to see the nose of a single tailor from now till then.”
Porthos shook his head.
“Come, my friend,” said d’Artagnan, “this unnatural melancholy in you frightens me. My dear Porthos, pray get out of it- the sooner the better.”
“Yes, my friend, so I will; if indeed it is possible.”
“Perhaps you have received bad news from Bracieux?”
“No; they have felled the wood, and it has yielded a third more than the estimate.”
“Then there has been a falling off in the pools of Pierrefonds?”
“No, my friend; they have been fished, and there is enough left to stock all the pools in the neighborhood.”
“Perhaps your estate at Vallon has been destroyed by an earthquake?”
“No, my friend; on the contrary, the ground was struck by lightning a hundred paces from the château, and a fountain sprung up in a place entirely destitute of water.”
“Well, then, what is the matter?”
“The fact is, I have received an invitation for the fête at Vaux,” said Porthos, with a lugubrious expression.
“Well, do you complain of that? The King has caused a hundred mortal heart-burnings among the courtiers by refusing invitations. And so, my dear friend, you are of the party for Vaux? Bless my soul!”
“Indeed I am!”
“You will see a magnificent sight.”
“Alas! I doubt it, though.”
“Everything that is grand in France will be brought together there!”
“Ah!” cried Porthos, tearing out a lock of his hair in despair.
“Eh! Good Heavens! are you ill?” cried d’Artagnan.
“I am as strong as the Pont-Neuf! It isn’t that.”
“But what is it, then?”
“It is that I have no clothes!”
D’Artagnan stood petrified. “No clothes, Porthos! no clothes,” he
Do you like this chapter?
If you're writing a Alexandre Dumas pere essay and need some advice,
post your Alexandre Dumas pere essay question on our
Facebook page where fellow bookworms are always glad to help!
