by Alexandre Dumas

“ They are the spoils of victory."
"I, the heir of an enemy!" said Athos; "for whom, then, do you take me?"
"It is the custom in war," said d'Artagnan, "why should it not be the custom in a duel?"
"Even on the field of battle, I have never done that."
Porthos shrugged his shoulders; Aramis by a movement of his lips endorsed Athos.
"Then," said d'Artagnan, "let us give the money to the lackeys, as Lord de Winter desired us to do."
"Yes," said Athos; "let us give the money to the lackeys--not to our lackeys, but to the lackeys of the Englishmen." ”

“ Immediately eight swords glittered in the rays of the setting sun, and the combat began with an animosity very natural between men twice enemies.
Athos fenced with as much calmness and method as if he had been practicing in a fencing school.
Porthos, abated, no doubt, of his too-great confidence by his adventure of Chantilly, played with skill and prudence. Aramis, who had the third canto of his poem to finish, behaved like a man in haste.
Athos killed his adversary first. He hit him but once, but as he had foretold, that hit was a mortal one; the sword pierced his heart. ”

“ It is not difficult to divine that, after all you have told me. She is some emissary of the cardinal; a woman who will draw you into a snare in which you will leave your head."
"The devil! my dear Athos, you view things on the dark side, methinks."
"My dear fellow, I mistrust women. Can it be otherwise? I bought my experience dearly--particularly fair women. Milady is fair, you say?"
"She has the most beautiful light hair imaginable!"
"Ah, my poor d'Artagnan!" said Athos. ”