by Alexandre Dumas

“ Just reflect a little what an agitation the queen's mind must be in for her to have remembered me after twenty years."
"It is true," said Porthos.
"Sharpen your sword, baron, load your pistols, and give some corn to the horses, for I will answer for it,
something lightning-like will happen ere to-morrow."
"But, stop; do you think it can be a trap that they are laying for us?" suggested Porthos, incessantly thinking how his greatness must be irksome to inferior people.
"If it is a snare," replied D'Artagnan, "I shall scent it out, be assured. If Mazarin is an Italian, I am a Gascon." ”

“ D'Artagnan looked at Porthos.
"A complicated affair," said Porthos; "where will you begin?"
"It is arranged capitally; his eminence expects me in half an hour."
"Good."
"My friend," said D'Artagnan, turning to the servant, "tell his eminence that in half an hour I shall be at his command."
"It is very fortunate," resumed the Gascon, when the valet had retired, "that he did not meet the other one." ”

“ Mazarin was aware that it was not easy to make D'Artagnan reveal anything he was desirous of hiding, so he gave up, for the time, the discovery of the mystery the Gascon was concealing.
"Let us speak of my affairs," said Mazarin, "since you will tell me naught of yours. Are you fond of traveling?"
"My life has been passed on the high road."
"Would anything retain you particularly in Paris?" ”