wered
Moliere. And he left with Aramis.
Then D'Artagnan, taking Porthos' arm, "What has this tailor done for
you, my dear Porthos," he asked, "that you are so pleased with him?"
"What has he done for me, my friend! done for me!" cried Porthos,
enthusiastically.
"Yes, I ask you, what has he done for you?"
"My friend, he has done that which no tailor ever yet accomplished--he
has taken my measure without touching me!"
"Ah, bah! tell me how he did it!"
"First, then, they went, I don't know where, for a number of lay
figures, of all heights and sizes, hoping there would be one to suit
mine; but the largest--that of the drum-major of the Swiss guard--was
two inches too short, and half a foot too slender."
"Indeed!"
"It is exactly as I tell you, D'Artagnan; but he is a great man, or at
the very least a great tailor, is this M. Moliere. He was not at all put
at fault by the circumstance."
"What did he do, then?"
"Oh! it is a very simple matter. I'faith, 'tis an unheard-of thing that
people should have been so stupid as not to have discovered this method
from the first. What annoyance and humiliation they would have spared
me!"
"Not to speak of the dresses, my dear Porthos."
"Yes, thirty dresses."
"Well, my dear Porthos, tell me M. Moliere's plan."
"Moliere? You call him so, do you? I shall make a point of recollecting
his name."
"Yes; or Poquelin, if you prefer that."
"No; I like Moliere best. When I wish to recollect his name, I shall
think of Voliere (an aviary); and as I have one at Pierrefonds--"
"Capital!" returned D'Artagnan; "and M. Moliere's plan?"
"'Tis this: instead of pulling me to pieces, as all these rascals do--of
making me bend in my back, and double my joints--all of them low and
dishonorable practices--"
D'Artagnan made a sign of approbation with his head.
[Illustration: ARAMIS SAW THAT THE YOUNG MAN WAS STRETCHED UPON HIS
BED, HIS FACE HALF-CONCEALED BY HIS ARMS.--_Page 294._]
"'Monsieur,' he said to me," continued Porthos, "'a gentleman ought to
measure himself. Do me the pleasure to draw near this glass,' and I drew
near the glass. I must own I did not exactly understand what this good
M. Voliere wanted with me."
"Moliere."
"Ah! yes, Moliere--Moliere. And as the fear of being measured still
possessed me, 'Take care,' said I to him, 'what you are going to do with
me; I am very ticklish, I warn you.' But he, with his soft voice (for he
is a courteous
|