Alexandre Dumas

“ The young king leaned toward the door.
“I have not said good-morning to you, Monsieur d’Artagnan,” he said; “nevertheless, I have remarked you. It was you who were behind my bed-curtains that night the Parisians wished to see me asleep.”
“And if the king permits me,” returned the Gascon, “I shall be near him always when there is danger to be encountered.”
“Sir,” said Mazarin to Porthos, “what would you do if the crowd fell upon us?”
“Kill as many as I could, my lord.”
“Hem! brave as you are and strong as you are, you could not kill them all.” ”

“ Two years later, when the Prussians had departed, Alexandre Dumas was able to take his father home to Villers-Cotterets, where he had wished to lie. A host of distinguished authors and actors came to bid their old confrère farewell, but the simple reverence and affection shown by the dead man's old village friends was a far truer token of the love that he had won. When the train arrived with the coffin, the people were quietly waiting in the streets to greet it, and young and old pressed forward to contend with the bearers for the honour of carrying the body of their lost, dear friend. ”

“ Monsieur, perhaps, fancied himself brought back again to the happy times when the opening of a door gave him an emotion, in which every letter might contain a state secret,—in which every message was connected with a dark and complicated intrigue. Perhaps, likewise, that great name of M. le Prince expanded itself, beneath the roofs of Blois, to the proportions of a phantom.
Monsieur pushed away his plate.
“Shall I tell the envoy to wait?” asked M. de Saint-Remy.
A glance from Madame emboldened Gaston, who replied: “No, no! let him come in at once, on the contrary. A propos, who is he?” ”

“ It would probably run somewhat in this fashion, if we allowed ourselves to prepare one, which of course we do not:—
"The life and adventures of Alexandre Dumas of the World, who was both a black and a white man; a Royalist and a Republican, an aristocrat and a sans-culotte; who took part in three revolutions, and made three different reputations; who wrote more books than any other man living or dead, who erected two "Monte Cristos," one of which made his fortune and the other of which unmade it; who enriched the world and was poor all his life ”

“ Du Chaffault, who lived at Sens, was awakened one morning, he tells us, to find a "horrible big devil" standing by his bedside. The apparition laughingly introduced himself as Alexandre Dumas, who had heard that this young man was "a good fellow," and would be of use to him at Joigny. Whilst the host hurriedly and bewilderedly dressed himself, Dumas changed his worn boots for a new pair of his young friend's, and, adds the narrator, "those he left are now in my library. I show thein to visitors as the thousand-and-first volume of Alexandre Dumas." ”

“ The light burned dim, and only threw faint circles on the ceiling of carved oak.
"Alone, still!" murmured the king. "Mon Dieu! I am alone all my life, as I shall be after death."
"'Alone after death'; that is not certain," said a powerful voice near the bed.
The king started up and looked round him in terror. "I know that voice," cried he.
"Ah! that is lucky," replied the voice.
"It is like the voice of Chicot."
"You burn, Henri: you burn."
Then the king, getting half out of bed, saw a man sitting in the very chair which he had pointed out to D'Epernon. ”

“ Alas! excuse my weakness! There are moments when a man grows young again in his children.”
The duchess smiled, half tenderly, half ironically.
“Count,” she said, “you are, I fear, gained over to the court. I suppose you have a blue ribbon in your pocket?”
“Yes, madame; I have that of the Garter, which King Charles I. gave me some days before he died.”
“Come, I am growing an old woman!” said the duchess, pensively.
Athos took her hand and kissed it. She sighed, as she looked at him.
“Count,” she said, “Bragelonne must be a charming place. You are a man of taste. ”

“ I know a man who will find the means of taking me from Paris, a man I have too long forgotten.” Then falling into a reverie, she added, however, with an expression of joy, “Ungrateful woman that I am, for twenty years I have forgotten this man, whom I ought to have made a marechal of France. My mother-in-law expended gold, caresses, dignities on Concini, who ruined her; the king made Vitry marechal of France for an assassination: while I have left in obscurity, in poverty, the noble D’Artagnan, who saved me!” ”

“ But I pardon you these words,” said he, smiling with pride; “I pardon them to a young prince who does not know, who cannot comprehend what such men as M. d’Herblay, M. du Vallon, and myself are. Taken or killed! Ah! Ah! sire! tell me, if the news is true, how much has it cost you in men and money. We will then reckon if the game has been worth the stakes.”
As he spoke thus, the king went up to him in great anger, and said, “Monsieur d’Artagnan, your replies are those of a rebel! Tell me, if you please, who is king of France? Do you know any other?” ”

“ But he himself remained an instant under the porch watching the departing Charles II., till he was lost in the turn of the next street. “To him as to his father formerly,” murmured he, “Athos, if he were here, would say with reason,—‘Salute fallen majesty!’” Then, reascending the staircase: “Oh! the vile service that I follow!” said he at every step. “Oh! my pitiful master! Life thus carried on is no longer tolerable, and it is at length time that I should do something! No more generosity, no more energy! The master has succeeded, the pupil is starved forever. Mordioux! I will not resist. ”

“ The light-hearted gaiety of the father and the sardonic gravity of the son, offered a contrast too marked to be missed by the wits. Alexandre is Dumas fils, but you—you are not Dumas père—you never will be!" said "the Lady of the Camélias" to the great man. "He is a big child of mine, born when I was quite young," said the son. Each seemed to provoke wit in the other. The elder was one day dining with his son, who had taken a house where the trees in the garden quite blocked up the light. "Open your windows," said old Dumas, "and let your garden have a little fresh air!" ”

“ Charles went up to the door.
"Monsieur Lallemand," he said, "there is a playfellow of mine here who comes from Villers-Cotterets and who says you must know his father."
"What is his name?"
"He is called Alexandre Dumas."
"Is he the son of General Alexandre Dumas?" asked one of the brothers Lallemand.
"Yes, General," I replied, and I entered.
"Is that you, my lad?" said the general.
"Yes, General, here I am."
[Pg 397]
"Come, my boy, come, ... it is always a pleasure for a soldier to see the son of a brave man, and your father was brave. Is he dead?"
"Yes, General; he died eight years ago." ”

“ The king approached him softly. "Ah! ah!" said he, "he is a gallant."
"What do you think of him, sire?"
"His face pleases me, and he has white hands and a well-kept beard."
"It is Ernanton de Carmainges, a fine fellow, who is capable of much."
"He has left behind him some love, I suppose, poor fellow. But what a queer figure his next neighbor is."
"Ah! that is M. de Chalabre. If he ruins your majesty, it will not be without enriching himself, I answer for it."
"And that one, with such a somber air; he does not seem as though he dreamed of love."
"What number, sire?" ”

“ Do you want any money?"
"No, sir; I have all my pay to take — nearly three months' wages."
"You are a careful fellow, Edmond."
"Say I have a poor father, sir."
"Yes, yes, I know how good a son you are, so now haste away to see your father. I have a son too, and I should be very wroth with those who detained him from me after a three months' voyage."
"Then I have your leave, sir?" said the young man, with a salute.
"Yes, if you have nothing more to say to me."
"Nothing."
"Captain Leclere did not, before he died, give you a letter for me?" ”

“ No popularity of the past century has equalled that of Alexandre Dumas. His successes were more than successes: they were triumphs.... The name of Alexandre Dumas is more than ‘Français, il est Européen;’ and it is more than European, it is universal. His theatre has been given publicity in all lands, and his romances have been translated into all tongues. Alexandre Dumas was one of those men we can call the sowers of civilization.... Alexandre Dumas is seducing, fascinating, interesting, amusing, and informing.... ”

“ With the change consequent on his achievement of fame and (in a less degree) of fortune, Dumas closed a chapter in his life which had an important influence on his future. When he first took lodgings in Paris, he was not quite twenty-one. He lived in a garret, dreamed of fame, and was happy, like Béranger's hero—
"Dans une grenier, qu'on est bien à vingt ans!" ”

“ The groom cried aloud for help. A kind of steward appeared, just as D’Artagnan and his companions were prepared to mount. The steward attempted to expostulate.
“My dear friend,” cried the lieutenant, “if you say a word I will blow out your brains.”
“But, sir,” answered the steward, “do you know that these horses belong to Monsieur de Montbazon?”
“So much the better; they must be good animals, then.”
“Sir, I shall call my people.”
“And I, mine; I’ve ten guards behind me, don’t you hear them gallop? and I’m one of the king’s musketeers. Come, Porthos; come, Mousqueton.” ”

“ Why, I’ll wager I can go up into the belfry of the Accoules, and without staggering, too!”
“Done!” said Danglars, “I’ll take your bet; but tomorrow—today it is time to return. Give me your arm, and let us go.”
“Very well, let us go,” said Caderousse; “but I don’t want your arm at all. Come, Fernand, won’t you return to Marseilles with us?”
“No,” said Fernand; “I shall return to the Catalans.”
“You’re wrong. Come with us to Marseilles—come along.”
“I will not.”
“What do you mean? you will not? Well, just as you like, my prince; there’s liberty for all the world. ”

“ It is pretty generally known—even to those to whom it has not been granted to stand in the imposing presence of our fast friend and ancient ally, Monsieur Alexandre Dumas—that there is a slight tinge of black in the blood of that greatest of French romanciers, past, present, or to come. In connexion with the fact, we will cite an anecdote:—
A person more remarkable for inquisitiveness than for correct breeding—one of those who, devoid of delicacy and reckless of rebuffs, pry into every thing—took the liberty to question M. Dumas rather closely concerning his genealogical tree. ”

“ The most conspicuous of the Eurafricans (to coin a word) were the Dumas family, who were distinguished for three generations. The mulatto, General Dumas, won distinction in the wars under the Revolution. His son, the famous Alexandre Dumas père, has delighted several generations with his novels, and founded a school of fiction. His son, Alexandre fils, novelist and dramatist, was as supreme in his own line as his father had been in his. Old Alexandre gives his pedigree in detail in his memoirs; and the Negro origin of the family is set out in every encyclopaedia. ”

“ This writer was Alexandre Dumas (born in 1803) , a man of brilliant, spontaneous talent and Titanic constitution, who displayed the same aptitude for Herculean tasks in literature as his father had done in war. For forty years he continued without a pause to produce tragedies, comedies, novels, short stories, books of travel, and memoirs. It would be foolish to write contemptuously of such prodigious inventiveness, such incredible productivity. ”

“ We can fancy the Preacher of Galilee would have found something in Alexandre Dumas which the world never saw.
One day, when Dumas and du Chaffault were talking together, a poor Italian was shown in, begging for help. The author was, as usual, at the end of his resources, but that did not check his charitable desire.
"My friend," he said, "I am no richer than you are; I have nothing, but I can never send away with empty hands a man who is in want. ”

“ This was no longer trick, it was calculation; no longer violence, but strength; no longer passion, but will; no longer boasting, but council. This young man who had brought down a Fouquet, and could do without a D’Artagnan, deranged the somewhat headstrong calculations of the musketeer.
“Come, let us see what stops you?” said the king, kindly. “You have given in your resignation; shall I refuse to accept it? I admit that it may be hard for such an old captain to recover lost good-humor.” ”

“ The ladies now, according to etiquette, rose, and, bowing to the king, retired. The queen followed with her ladies of honor. The queen-mother remained: the king's gayety was a mystery that she wished to fathom.
"Cardinal," said the king, "what has become of your brother, Du Bouchage?"
"I do not know, sire."
"How! you do not know?"
"No; I never see him, now."
A grave, sad voice from the end of the room said, "Here I am, sire."
"Ah! it is he," cried Henri. "Approach, comte; approach."
The young man obeyed.
"Mon Dieu!" cried the king, "he is no longer a man, but a shade." ”

“ You remember, sir, that, nearly a year ago you did me the honour of writing to me that mountains did not meet, but that men did, and that whenever I had the honour of meeting you outside the kingdom of His Majesty, King William, you would put no difficulty in the way of giving me satisfaction."
The general rose.
"It is useless," said he, "to prolong an explanation in a café where everybody can hear what we say; you can give any explanations to these gentlemen of the grounds of complaint which you consider yourself to have against me, and which I am not in any degree bound to disclaim to you. ”