one least
deserving of neglect, was, however, very much neglected, very much
forgotten, and exceedingly unhappy. In fact, D'Artagnan--D'Artagnan,
we say, for we must call him by his name, to remind our readers of his
existence--D'Artagnan, we repeat, had absolutely nothing whatever to do,
amidst these brilliant butterflies of fashion. After following the king
during two whole days at Fontainebleau, and critically observing
the various pastoral fancies and heroi-comic transformations of his
sovereign, the musketeer felt that he needed something more than this to
satisfy the cravings of his nature. At every moment assailed by
people asking him, "How do you think this costume suits me, Monsieur
d'Artagnan?" he would reply to them in quiet, sarcastic tones, "Why,
I think you are quite as well-dressed as the best-dressed monkey to
be found in the fair at Saint-Laurent." It was just such a compliment
D'Artagnan would choose where he did not feel disposed to pay any other:
and, whether agreeable or not, the inquirer was obliged to be satisfied
with it. Whenever any one asked him, "How do you intend to dress
yourself this evening?" he replied, "I shall undress myself;" at which
the ladies all laughed, and a few of them blushed. But after a couple
of days passed in this manner, the musketeer, perceiving that nothing
serious was likely to arise which would concern him, and that the king
had completely, or, at least, appeared to have completely forgotten
Paris, Saint-Mande, and Belle-Isle--that M. Colbert's mind was occupied
with illuminations and fireworks--that for the next month, at least,
the ladies had plenty of glances to bestow, and also to receive in
exchange--D'Artagnan asked the king for leave of absence for a matter of
private business. At the moment D'Artagnan made his request, his majesty
was on the point of going to bed, quite exhausted from dancing.
"You wish to leave me, Monsieur d'Artagnan?" inquired the king, with an
air of astonishment; for Louis XIV. could never understand why any one
who had the distinguished honor of being near him could wish to leave
him.
"Sire," said D'Artagnan, "I leave you simply because I am not of the
slightest service to you in anything. Ah! if I could only hold the
balancing-pole while you were dancing, it would be a very different
affair."
"But, my dear Monsieur d'Artagnan," said the king, gravely, "people
dance without balancing-poles."
"Ah! indeed," said the musketeer, co
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