In Chapter 49, Milady arrives in England, where unbeknownst to her Lord de Winter is waiting to imprison her. Dumas uses personification and imagery to describe the beautiful day on which she arrives:
It was one of those beautiful and rare winter days when England remembers that there is a sun. Still radiant as it set on the horizon, the sun streaked the sea and the sky with crimson and cast a last golden ray on the towers and buildings of the city, making the windowpanes glitter as though from the reflection of a fire. Smelling the increasing fragrance of the air as the ship approached land, Milady contemplated the powerful force of vessels and men that she was expected to defeat by her own efforts [...].
By personifying England as someone who from time to time "remembers that there is a sun," Dumas suggests a connection between the social and political goings-on in England and the weather. England rarely "remembers" the sun's existence, being too busy with the gloomy hustle and bustle of daily life on the island. Whether the bad weather causes the dreary social atmosphere or whether the social atmosphere causes the bad weather, England's normal state according to Dumas is bleak. On this day, though, the sun is shining on England even as it sets. The crimson-streaked sea, the glittering windowpanes, and the distinct "fragrance" of the air elevate the scene and create the sense that Milady is going toward something important and magnificent. Milady seems to think that the shining city is a reflection of the "fire" of her rage and will to "defeat" her enemies. She is in awe not only of everything she is "expected" to overcome, but also of her own success in making it this far.
There is another way to read the imagery and personification, too. The beauty of the city, and the rare sunny day, reflects the happy fact that Milady, who has become the novel's villain, is about to be thwarted. The musketeers are French and are often pitted against England. In this instance, though, they have collaborated with Lord de Winter to set a trap for Milady. Whereas England is usually not a place the musketeers like, this is one day when it has "remembered" how to be glorious and good.
At the end of Chapter 52 and beginning of Chapter 53, Dumas emphasizes the situational irony of Milady's beautiful, peaceful slumber while she dreams of horrifying imagery:
She went to bed and fell asleep with a smile on her lips. Anyone seeing her would have taken her for a young girl dreaming of the wreath of flowers she would wear at the next village festival.
[...]
MILADY WAS actually dreaming that she had d’Artagnan in her power at last and was watching his execution, and it was the sight of his odious blood flowing beneath the headsman’s axe that had brought that charming smile to her lips.
She slept soundly, lulled by her first hope of escape.
From the outside, Milady is the image of "a young girl dreaming of the wreath of flowers she would wear at the next village festival." There is a sharp contrast between her "innocent" appearance and the real contents of her dreams, which Dumas shares with the reader at the opening of Chapter 53. The image of "odious blood flowing beneath the headsman's axe" at d'Artagnan's imagined execution is startling to readers. To Milady, it is soothing. It "lulls" her and makes her smile to think of escaping and bringing about d'Artagnan's bloody demise.
Dumas depicts Milady as an especially dangerous villain because she can project such an ironic air of innocence. Over and over throughout her life, she convinces men that she is the "young girl dreaming" that she looks like on the outside. The false sense of security she inspires in them makes them all the more vulnerable to her vicious schemes. Dumas recreates this false sense of security for the reader by presenting the peaceful image of Milady before the chapter break and the terrifying image only after a pause between chapters. She embodies the false dichotomy of innocence and deception that is often projected onto women in literature and media. Her duplicitous villainy keeps the story exciting, but it is important to note that it relies on some troubling stereotypes about women.
At the end of Chapter 52 and beginning of Chapter 53, Dumas emphasizes the situational irony of Milady's beautiful, peaceful slumber while she dreams of horrifying imagery:
She went to bed and fell asleep with a smile on her lips. Anyone seeing her would have taken her for a young girl dreaming of the wreath of flowers she would wear at the next village festival.
[...]
MILADY WAS actually dreaming that she had d’Artagnan in her power at last and was watching his execution, and it was the sight of his odious blood flowing beneath the headsman’s axe that had brought that charming smile to her lips.
She slept soundly, lulled by her first hope of escape.
From the outside, Milady is the image of "a young girl dreaming of the wreath of flowers she would wear at the next village festival." There is a sharp contrast between her "innocent" appearance and the real contents of her dreams, which Dumas shares with the reader at the opening of Chapter 53. The image of "odious blood flowing beneath the headsman's axe" at d'Artagnan's imagined execution is startling to readers. To Milady, it is soothing. It "lulls" her and makes her smile to think of escaping and bringing about d'Artagnan's bloody demise.
Dumas depicts Milady as an especially dangerous villain because she can project such an ironic air of innocence. Over and over throughout her life, she convinces men that she is the "young girl dreaming" that she looks like on the outside. The false sense of security she inspires in them makes them all the more vulnerable to her vicious schemes. Dumas recreates this false sense of security for the reader by presenting the peaceful image of Milady before the chapter break and the terrifying image only after a pause between chapters. She embodies the false dichotomy of innocence and deception that is often projected onto women in literature and media. Her duplicitous villainy keeps the story exciting, but it is important to note that it relies on some troubling stereotypes about women.
In Chapter 66, Dumas uses imagery as he describes Milady's execution:
The silent witnesses on the other side of the river saw the executioner raise his arms. Moonlight glittered on the broad blade of his sword. There was a scream as he swiftly brought down his arms, then a truncated mass collapsed beneath the blow.
He took off his red cloak, spread it on the ground, placed the body and the head on it, tied its four corners together, lifted it onto his shoulder, and got back into the boat.
Dumas describes the execution from the perspective of the "silent witnesses" across the river. Just as the witnesses are silent, they also cannot seem to hear very much of what is going on. After the struggle to get Milady to this isolated spot, the silence is eerier than sound would be. Everything seems to slow down as the witnesses watch the executioner raise his arms and as they see the moonlight "glittering" on his sword. A single scream pierces the silence, but time starts passing more quickly at the point when the sword strikes. The image of the "truncated mass" (her beheaded body) collapsing is horrifying, but Dumas describes it casually and quickly. The executioner's disposal of Milady's head and body is also swift. Whereas many of the novel's violent scenes are drawn out and graphic, Dumas is notably sparing with his imagery in this scene. The images that remain—the gleaming sword, the scream, the "truncated mass," the body wrapped in a cloak—are haunting precisely because they are so matter-of-fact. Milady is alive one moment, and then she is dead. Just like that, the main conflict of the book is over.