The Three Musketeers Quotes

Panics were frequent in those times, and few days went by when an event of this kind was not recorded in the archives of one town or another. Noblemen fought among themselves; the king was at war with the cardinal; the Spanish were at war with the king. And then, besides all this secret or open warfare, there were robbers, beggars, Huguenots, wolves, and lackeys, who were at war with everyone. The townsmen always took up arms against robbers, wolves, and lackeys, often against noblemen and Huguenots, sometimes against the king, but never against the cardinal or the Spanish.

Fight duels at the drop of a hat, especially since duels are forbidden: that means it takes twice as much courage to fight one.

Athos’s arrival had caused a sensation in the anteroom, for his wound was known to everyone despite all efforts to keep it a secret. The door had remained ajar, and Tréville’s words were greeted by a joyous hubbub. Two or three musketeers, carried away by enthusiasm, drew back the door curtain and looked into the study. Tréville was about to rebuke them sharply when he felt Athos’s hand tighten in his own and saw that he was about to faint.

And, as His Majesty had predicted, the cardinal was furious, so furious that for a week he did not come to the king’s card game. This did not prevent the king from greeting him graciously whenever they met, and saying in his most sympathetic tone, “Tell me about those two poor guards of yours, Bernajoux and Jussac. How are they doing?

Unfortunately, Porthos knew no more about Athos’s life than what hearsay told him. It was said that he had suffered great afflictions in his love affairs and that a monstrous betrayal had poisoned his life forever. What that betrayal had been, no one knew.

They were so closely united that they shared whatever they had and each was always ready to help the others, even at the risk of death. They made plans together and carried them out either individually or as a group; they were like four arms that sometimes joined in a single attack and sometimes separated to ward off danger from any direction. Four men like that could surely overcome all obstacles in their path, using either force or guile, and reach any goal they chose, no matter how distant or well defended it might be.

“All for one, one for all.”

He was thinking about Madame Bonacieux. For an apprentice musketeer, she was almost an amorous ideal: besides being young, pretty, and mysterious, she knew nearly all the secrets of the court, which gave her face a charming look of gravity, and she was suspected of not being insensitive to masculine attentions, which is an irresistible attraction for young men with little experience in love. Furthermore, d’Artagnan had rescued her from the demons who wanted to search her and mistreat her, and this had given her one of those feelings of gratitude that can easily develop into something more tender.

Yes, but you know why I’m seeing you, Duke: I’m seeing you out of pity; I’m seeing you because you’ve stubbornly insisted on remaining in a city where you’re risking your life and making me risk my honor; I’m seeing you to tell you that everything separates us: the depths of the sea, the enmity of kingdoms, the sanctity of vows. It’s sacrilegious to struggle against all those things. And finally, I’m seeing you to tell you that we must never see each other again.

Although his triumph over such a mediocre man as Bonacieux could scarcely be counted as a great victory, the cardinal savored it for a moment; then, as if a new thought had just occurred to him, he smiled, held out his hand to the draper, and said, “Stand up, my friend. You’re a good man.”

The king’s animosity against the queen was deftly nurtured by the cardinal, who was much warier of women than of men in matters of intrigue.

“Yes, Your Grace, because now that there’s talk of war, I must admit that I see you only as an Englishman and therefore as an enemy whom I’d rather meet on a battlefield than in Windsor Park or the halls of the Louvre. That won’t prevent me from doing everything in my power to carry out my mission; I’m prepared to die for it if necessary. But you have no more reason to feel grateful to me for what I’m doing now than for what I did the first time we met.”

Athos was thus an extraordinary man. And yet, despite his distinction and refinement, he sometimes sank into sluggish apathy, as old men sink into physical and mental debility. In his periods of lethargy, and they were many, the radiant side of his nature disappeared, although engulfed in darkness. Then, when the demigod had vanished, what remained was scarcely a man.

But now he suddenly realized the advantages he could gain from the love that Kitty had candidly confessed to him: he would be able to intercept letters addressed to Count de Wardes, get useful information from Kitty, and have access at any time to her bedroom, which adjoined Milady’s. The treacherous young man was already planning to sacrifice Kitty in order to make Milady give in to him, willingly or unwillingly.

The cardinal, as is well known, had been in love with the queen. We cannot say whether his love had a simple political goal or whether it was one of the deep passions that Anne of Austria aroused in those around her, but in any case we know that the duke of Buckingham had won out over him before the beginning of this story and that in later circumstances […] the duke had outwitted him.

And since every good deed has its reward, d’Artagnan’s leniency had the effect of giving him back the peace of mind he had lost. He felt there was no longer any need for him to worry, because one of his two attackers was dead and the other was now devoted to him.

His serenity proved one thing: he did not yet know Milady.

“Monseigneur,” Milady interrupted, “I’ll trade you a life for a life, a man for a man; rid me of this one and I’ll rid you of the other.”

“The bearer of this letter has acted under my orders and for the good of the state.

Richelieu”

“Look at this woman,” said de Winter. “She’s young and beautiful, and she has every kind of charm imaginable; yet she’s a monster who, at the age of twenty-five, has already committed as many crimes as you’ll find in the records of our law courts for a year. Her body speaks in her favor, her beauty lures her victims, and I must say in all fairness that her body pays what she’s promised. She’ll try to seduce you, she may even try to kill you.”

“We are conspirators, Monseigneur,” said Athos, “but as you saw the other morning, we conspire against the enemy.”

She sat motionless, her eyes glowing with murderous hatred. Now and then an angry sound like the low growl of a tigress rose from deep inside her and mingled with the roar of the waves breaking against the cliff on which the forbidding castle stood.

“He’s the man who’s ravaged England, persecuted true believers, and destroyed the honor of countless women, the man who’s plunged two kingdoms into bloody war to satisfy a whim of his depraved heart, the man who protects the Protestants today and will betray them tomorrow.”

“Buckingham!” Felton said furiously. “Yes, it’s Buckingham!”

“It was God’s will,” Felton said with a fanatic’s resignation. But he could not take his eyes off the sloop, and he imagined that he could see a woman on its deck, the woman to whom he had sacrificed his life.

Perhaps she was struck by a superstitious idea and took her fall as a sign that fate was against her; in any case, she remained as she had fallen, on her knees, with her head bowed and her hands still tied.

The silent witnesses on the other side of the river saw the executioner raise his arms. Moonlight glittered on the broad blade of this sword. There was a scream as he swiftly brought down his arms, then a truncated mass collapsed beneath the blow.

“You’re young,” said Athos. “Your bitter memories still have time to turn to sweet ones.”