, too, mordioux!
belong to posterity, and have no right to lessen yourself in any way.
Stay a moment, look at me, I who seem to exercise in a degree a kind of
superiority over you, because I arrest you; fate, which distributes
their different parts to the comedians of this world, accorded to me a
less agreeable and less advantageous part to fill than yours has been;
I am one of those who think that the parts which kings and powerful
nobles are called upon to act are infinitely of more worth than the
parts of beggars or lackeys. It is far better on the stage--on the
stage, I mean, of another theater than the theater of this world--it is
far better to wear a fine coat and to talk fine language, than to walk
the boards shod with a pair of old shoes, or to get one's backbone
gently caressed by a sound thrashing with a stick. In one word, you have
been a prodigal with money, you have ordered and been obeyed--have been
steeped to the lips in enjoyment; while I have dragged my tether after
me, have been commanded and have obeyed, and have drudged my life away.
Well! although I may seem of such trifling importance beside you,
monseigneur, I do declare to you, that the recollection of what I have
done serves me as a spur, and prevents me from bowing my old head too
soon. I shall remain until the very end, a good trooper; and when my
turn comes, I shall fall perfectly straight all in a heap, still alive,
after having selected my place beforehand. Do as I do, Monsieur Fouquet,
you will not find yourself the worse for it; that happens only once in a
lifetime to men like yourself, and the chief thing is, to do it well
when the chance presents itself. There is a Latin proverb--the words
have escaped me, but I remember the sense of it very well, for I have
thought over it more than once, which says, 'The end crowns the work!'"

Fouquet rose from his seat, passed his arm round D'Artagnan's neck and
clasped him in a close embrace, while with the other hand he pressed his
hand. "An excellent homily," he said after a moment's pause.

"A soldier's, monseigneur."

"You have a regard for me, in telling me all that."

"Perhaps."

Fouquet resumed his pensive attitude once more, and then, a moment
after, he said: "Where can M. d'Herblay be? I dare not ask you to send
for him."

"You would not ask me, because I would not do it, Monsieur Fouquet.
People would learn it, and Aramis, who is not mixed up with the affair,
might possibly be comp