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Updated: September 1, 2025
"It is humiliating," continued the musketeer; "my soldiers are disgraced. I do not command reitres, thank you, nor clerks of the intendant, mordioux!" "Well! but what is all this about?" said the king with authority.
It was simply M. d'Artagnan; D'Artagnan on foot; D'Artagnan with his hands behind him, passing a little review upon the dragoons, after having reviewed the buildings. Not a man, not a tag, not a horse's hoof escaped his inspection. Raoul rode at the side of his troop; D'Artagnan perceived him the last. "Eh!" said he, "Eh! Mordioux!"
That was the concluding word by the aid of which D'Artagnan, having become wise, now terminated every thought and every period of his style. Formerly he said, "Mordioux!" which was a prick of the spur, but now he had become older, and he murmured that philosophical "Bah!" which served as a bridle to all the passions.
"I did not believe a bishop's exercises were so severe." "A bishop, my friend, must sacrifice more to appearance than a simple cleric." "Mordioux! Aramis, that is a word which reconciles me with your greatness. To appearances! That is a musketeer's word, in good truth! Vivent les apparences, Aramis!" "Instead of felicitating me upon it, pardon me, D'Artagnan.
"Parry, yes, my dear Monsieur d'Artagnan, it is I. What joy to see you once again!" "You are right there, what joy!" said D'Artagnan, pressing the old man's hand. "There, now you'll go and inform the king, will you not?" "But the king is asleep, my dear monsieur." "Mordioux! then wake him. He won't scold you for having disturbed him, I will promise you."
Mordioux! that is difficult, but I have got over greater difficulties. I will do it. Why should I do it? Because I love money? I have enough. Because I am ambitious? my career is almost at an end. Because I love the court? No.
Upon my soul, it is no such thing; on the contrary, it seems as if I absorbed a double quantity of air and sun. Mordioux! what will it be then, if I double that fortune, and if, instead of the switch I now hold in my hand, I should ever carry the baton of a marechal? Then I really don't know if there will be, from that moment enough of air and sun for me.
"Mordioux!" cried the latter, with a fixed eye, a contracted brow, and a swelling heart "What a disgraceful day!" They walked slowly the four leagues which separated them from the little wood behind which the carriage and escort were in waiting.
"I will get him," said the musketeer, "between a couple of candles, suddenly, and when he least expects it, I will place my hand upon his heart, and he will tell me What will he tell me? Yes, he will tell me something, for mordioux! there is something in it, I know."
Bah!" that was the concluding word by the aid of which D'Artagnan, having become wise, now terminated every thought and every period of his style. Formerly he said, "Mordioux!" which was a prick of the spur, but now he had become older, and he murmured that philosophical "Bah!" which served as a bridle to all the passions. In which D'Artagnan seeks Porthos, and only finds Mousqueton
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