CHAPTER VIII.
MALAGA.
During the continuance of the long and violent debates between theopposite ambitions of the court and those of the heart, one of ourcharacters, the least deserving of neglect, perhaps, was, however, verymuch neglected, very much forgotten, and exceedingly unhappy. In fact,D'Artagnan--D'Artagnan, we say, for we must call him by his name, toremind our readers of his existence--D'Artagnan, we repeat, hadabsolutely nothing whatever to do, amid this brilliant, light-heartedworld of fashion. After having followed the king during two whole daysat Fontainebleau, and having critically observed all the pastoralfancies and heroi-comic transformations of his sovereign, the musketeerfelt that he needed something more than this to satisfy the cravings ofhis existence. At every moment assailed by people asking him, "How doyou think this costume suits me, Monsieur d'Artagnan?" he would reply tothem in quiet, sarcastic tones, "Why, I think you are quite as welldressed as the best-dressed monkey to be found in the fair at SaintLaurent." It was just such a compliment as D'Artagnan would choose topay, where he did not feel disposed to pay any other; and, whetheragreeable or not, the inquirer was obliged to be satisfied with it.Whenever any one asked him, "How do you intend to dress yourself thisevening?" he replied, "I shall undress myself," at which all the ladieslaughed. But after a couple of days passed in this manner, themusketeer, perceiving that nothing serious was likely to arise whichwould concern him, and that the king had completely, or, at least,appeared to have completely, forgotten Paris, Saint-Mande, andBelle-Isle; that M. Colbert's mind was occupied with illuminations andfireworks; that for the next month, at least, the ladies had plenty ofglances to bestow, and also to receive in exchange--D'Artagnan asked theking for leave of absence for a matter of private business. At themoment D'Artagnan made his request, his majesty was on the point ofgoing to bed, quite exhausted from dancing.
"You wish to leave me, Monsieur d'Artagnan?" inquired the king, with anair of astonishment; for Louis XIV. could never understand that any one,who had the distinguished honor of being near him, could wish to leavehim.
"Sire," said D'Artagnan, "I leave you simply because I am not of theslightest service to you in anything. Ah! if I could only hold thebalancing pole while you were dancing, it would be a very differentaffair."
"But, my dear Monsieur d'Artagnan," said the king, gravely, "peopledance without a balancing-pole."
"Ah! indeed," said the musketeer, continuing his imperceptible tone ofirony, "I had no idea at all of that."
"You have not seen me dance, then?" inquired the king.
"Yes; but I always thought it would make you firmer. I was mistaken--agreater reason, therefore, that I should leave for a time. Sire, Irepeat, you have no present occasion for my services; besides, if yourmajesty should have any need of me, you would know where to find me."
"Very well," said the king; and he granted him his leave of absence.
We shall not look for D'Artagnan, therefore, at Fontainebleau, for thiswould be quite useless; but, with the permission of our readers, weshall follow him to the Rue des Lombards, where he was located at thesign of the "Pilon d'Or," in the house of our old friend Planchet. Itwas about eight o'clock in the evening, and the weather was exceedinglywarm; there was only one window open, and that one belonging to a roomon the entresol. A perfume of spices, mingled with another perfume lessexotic, but more penetrating, namely, that which arose from the street,ascended to salute the nostrils of the musketeer. D'Artagnan, recliningupon an immense straight-backed chair, with his legs not stretched out,but simply placed upon a stool, formed an angle of the most obtuse formthat could possibly be seen. Both his arms were crossed over his head,his head reclining upon his left shoulder, like Alexander the Great. Hiseyes, usually so quick and intelligent in their expression, were nowhalf-closed, and seemed fastened, as it were, upon a small corner ofblue sky, which was visible behind the opening of the chimneys: therewas just enough blue, and no more, to put a piece into one of the sacksof lentils, or haricots, which formed the principal furniture of theshop on the ground-floor. Thus extended at his ease, and thus shelteredin his place of observation behind the window, D'Artagnan seemed as ifhe had ceased to be a soldier, as if he were no longer an officerbelonging to the palace, but was, on the contrary, a quiet, easy-goingcitizen in a state of stagnation between his dinner and supper, orbetween his supper and his bed; one of those strong, ossified brains,which have no more room for a single idea, so fiercely does animalmatter keep watch at the doors of intelligence, narrowly inspecting thecontraband trade which might result from the introduction into the brainof a symptom of thought. We have already said night was closing in, theshops were being lighted, while the windows of the upper apartments werebeing closed, and the irregular steps of a patrol of soldiers formingthe night-watch could be heard in the distance. D'Artagnan continued,however, to think of nothing, and to look at nothing, except the bluecorner of the sky. A few paces from him, completely in the shade, lyingon his stomach, upon a sack of Indian corn, was Planchet, with both hisarms under his chin, and his eyes fixed on D'Artagnan, who was eitherthinking, dreaming, or sleeping, with his eyes open. Planchet had beenwatching him for a tolerably long time, and, by way of interruption, hebegan by exclaiming, "Hum! hum!" But D'Artagnan did not stir. Planchetthen saw that it was necessary to have recourse to a more effectualmeans still. After a prolonged reflection on the subject, the mostingenious means which suggested itself to him under presentcircumstances was to let himself roll off the sack on to the floor,murmuring at the same time, against himself, the word "stupid." Butnotwithstanding the noise produced by Planchet's fall, D'Artagnan, whohad in the course of his existence heard many other, and very differentnoises, did not appear to pay the least attention to the present one.Besides, an enormous cart, laden with stones passing from La RueSaint-Mederie, absorbed, in the noise of its wheels, the noise ofPlanchet's fall. And yet Planchet fancied that, in token of tacitapproval, he saw him imperceptibly smile at the word "stupid." Thisemboldened him to say, "Are you asleep, Monsieur d'Artagnan?"
"No, Planchet, I am not _even_ asleep," replied the musketeer.
"I am in despair," said Planchet, "to hear such a word as _even_."
"Well, and why not? Is it not a good French word, Monsieur Planchet?"
"Of course, Monsieur d'Artagnan."
"Well?"
"Well, then, the word distresses me beyond measure."
"Tell me why you are distressed, Planchet," said D'Artagnan.
"If you say that you are not _even_ asleep, it is as much as to say thatyou have not even the consolation of being able to sleep; or, betterstill, it is precisely the same as telling me that you are getting boredto death."
"Planchet, you know I am never bored."
"Except to-day and the day before yesterday."
"Bah!"
"Monsieur d'Artagnan, it is a week since you returned here fromFontainebleau; in other words, you have no longer your orders to issue,or your men to review and maneuver. You need the sound of guns, drums,and all that din and confusion; I, who have myself carried a musket, caneasily believe that."
"Planchet," replied D'Artagnan, "I assure you I am not bored the leastin the world."
"In that case, what are you doing, lying there as if you were dead?"
"My dear Planchet, there was, once upon a time, at the siege ofRochelle, when I was there, when you were there, when we both werethere, a certain Arab, who was celebrated for the manner in which headjusted culverins. He was a clever fellow, although very singular withregard to his complexion, which was the same color as your olives. Well,this Arab, whenever he had done eating or working, used to sit down torest himself, as I am resting myself now, and smoked I cannot tell youwhat sort of magical leaves, in a large amber-mouthed tube; and if anyofficer, happening to pass, reproached him for being always asleep, heused quietly to reply: 'Better to sit down than to stand up, to lie downthan to sit down, to be dead than to lie down.' He was a very melancholyArab, and I remember him perfectly w
ell, from his color and his style ofconversation. He used to cut off the heads of the Protestants withextreme satisfaction."
"Precisely; and then used to embalm them, when they were worth thetrouble."
"Yes; and when he was engaged in his embalming occupations, with hisherbs and other plants about him, he looked like a basket-maker makingbaskets."
"You are quite right, Planchet; he did so."
"Oh, I can remember things very well at times!"
"I have no doubt of it; but what do you think of his mode ofreasoning?"
"I think it very good in one sense, and stupid in another."
"Propound your meaning, M. Planchet."
"Well, monsieur, in point of fact, then, 'better to sit down than tostand up' is plain enough, especially when one may be fatigued undercertain circumstances:" and Planchet smiled in a roguish way. "As for'better to be lying down than sitting down,' let that pass; but as forthe last proposition, that it is 'better to be dead than alive,' it is,in my opinion, very absurd, my own undoubted preference being for mybed; and if you are not of my opinion, it is simply, as I have alreadyhad the honor of telling you, because you are boring yourself to death."
"Planchet, do you know M. la Fontaine?"
"The chemist at the corner of the Rue Saint-Mederie?"
"No; the writer of fables?"
"Oh! Maitre Corbeau!"
"Exactly so; well, then, I am like his hare."
"He has got a hare also, then?"
"He has all sorts of animals."
"Well, what does his hare do, then?"
"His hare thinks."
"Ah, ah!"
"Planchet, I am like M. la Fontaine's hare--I am thinking."
"You're thinking, you say?" said Planchet, uneasily.
"Yes; your house is dull enough to drive people to think. You will admitthat, I hope."
"And yet, monsieur, you have a look out upon the street."
"Yes; and wonderfully interesting that is, of course."
"But it is no less true, monsieur, that, if you were living at the backof the house, you would bore yourself--I mean, you would think--morethan ever."
"Upon my word, Planchet, I hardly know that."
"Still," said the grocer, "if your reflections were at all like thosewhich led you to restore King Charles II.;" and Planchet finished by alittle laugh which was not without its meaning.
"Ah, Planchet, my friend," returned D'Artagnan, "you are gettingambitious."
"Is there no other king to be restored, M. d'Artagnan--no other Monk tobe put into a box?"
"No, my dear Planchet; all the kings are seated on their variousthrones--less comfortably so, perhaps, than I am upon this chair; but,at all events, there they are." And D'Artagnan sighed very deeply.
"Monsieur d'Artagnan," said Planchet, "you are making me very uneasy."
"You're very good, Planchet."
"I begin to suspect something."
"What is it?"
"Monsieur d'Artagnan, you are getting thin."
"Oh!" said D'Artagnan, striking his chest, which sounded like an emptycuirass; "it is impossible, Planchet."
"Ah!" said Planchet, slightly overcome, "if you were to get thin in myhouse--"
"Well?"
"I should do something rash."
"What would you do? Tell me."
"I should look out for the man who was the cause of all your anxieties."
"Ah! according to your account, I am anxious now."
"Yes, you are anxious, and you are getting thin, visibly getting thin.Malaga! if you go on getting thin in this way, I will take my sword inmy hand, and go straight to M. d'Herblay, and have it out with him."
"What!" said M. d'Artagnan, starting in his chair--"what's that you say?And what has M. d'Herblay's name to do with your groceries?"
"Just as you please. Get angry if you like, or call me names, if youprefer it: but the deuce is in it--I know what I know."
D'Artagnan had, during this second outburst of Planchet, so placedhimself as not to lose a single look of his face--that is, he sat withboth his hands resting on his knees, and his head stretched out towardthe grocer. "Come, explain yourself," he said, "and tell me how youcould possibly utter such a blasphemy. M. d'Herblay, your old master,my friend, an ecclesiastic, a musketeer turned bishop--do you mean tosay you would raise your sword against him, Planchet?"
"I could raise my sword against my own father, when I see you in such astate as you are now."
"M. d'Herblay, a gentleman!"
"It's all the same to me whether he's a gentleman or not. He gives youthe blue devils, that is all I know. And the blue devils make people getthin. Malaga! I have no notion of M. d'Artagnan leaving my house thinnerthan he entered it."
"How does he give me the blue devils, as you call it? Come, explain,explain."
"You have had the nightmare during the last three nights."
"I?"
"Yes, you; and in your nightmare you called out, several times, 'Aramis,sly Aramis!'"
"Ah! I said that, did I?" murmured D'Artagnan, uneasily.
"Yes, those very words, upon my honor."
"Well, what else? You know the saying, Planchet, 'dreams go bycontraries.'"
"Not so; for, every time during the last three days, when you went out,you have not once failed to ask me, on your return, 'Have you seen M.d'Herblay?' or else, 'Have you received any letters for me from M.d'Herblay?'"
"Well, it is very natural I should take an interest in my old friend,"said D'Artagnan.
"Of course; but not to such an extent as to get thin from it."
"Planchet, I'll get fatter: I give you my word of honor I will."
"Very well, monsieur, I accept it; for I know that when you give yourword of honor it is sacred."
"I will not dream of Aramis any longer; and I will never ask you, again,if there are any letters from M. d'Herblay; but on condition that youexplain one thing to me."
"Tell me what it is, monsieur."
"I am a great observer; and just now, you made use of a very singularoath, which is unusual for you."
"You mean Malaga! I suppose?"
"Precisely."
"It is the oath I have used ever since I have been a grocer."
"Very proper, too; it is the name of a dried grape, or raisin, Ibelieve?"
"It is my most ferocious oath: when I have once said Malaga! I am a manno longer."
"Still, I never knew you use that oath before."
"Very likely not, monsieur. I had a present made me of it," saidPlanchet; and as he pronounced these words, he winked his eye with acunning expression, which thoroughly awakened D'Artagnan's attention.
"Come, come, M. Planchet."
"Why, I am not like you, monsieur," said Planchet. "I don't pass my lifein thinking."
"You are wrong, then."
"I mean, in boring myself to death. We have but a very short time tolive--why not make the best of it?"
"You are an Epicurean philosopher, I begin to think, Planchet."
"Why not? My hand is still as steady as ever; I can write, and can weighout my sugar and spices; my foot is firm; I can dance and walk about; mystomach has its teeth still, for I eat and digest well; my heart is notquite hardened. Well, monsieur?"
"Well, what, Planchet?"
"Why, you see--" said the grocer, rubbing his hands together.
D'Artagnan crossed one leg over the other, and said, "Planchet, myfriend, I am astounded by surprise: for you are revealing yourself to meunder a perfectly new light."
Planchet, flattered in the highest degree by this remark, continued torub his hands very hard together. "Ah! ah!" he said, "because I happento be only stupid, you think me, perhaps, a positive fool."
"Very good, Planchet; very well reasoned."
"Follow my idea, monsieur, if you please. I said to myself," continuedPlanchet, "that, without enjoyment, there is no happiness on thisearth."
"Quite true, what you say, Planchet," interrupted D'Artagnan.
/> "At all events, if we cannot obtain pleasure--for pleasure is not socommon a thing after all--let us, at least, get consolations of somekind or other."
"And so you console yourself?"
"Exactly so."
"Tell me how you console yourself."
"I put on a buckler for the purpose of confronting ennui. I place mytime at the direction of patience; and on the very eve of feeling I amgoing to get bored, I amuse myself."
"And you don't find any difficulty in that?"
"None."
"And you found it out quite by yourself?"
"Quite so."
"It is miraculous."
"What do you say?"
"I say, that your philosophy is not to be matched in the whole world."
"You think so?--follow my example, then."
"It is a very tempting one."
"Do as I do."
"I could not wish for anything better; but all minds are not of the samestamp; and it might possibly happen that if I were required to amusemyself in the manner you do, I should bore myself horribly."
"Bah! at least try it first."
"Well, tell me what you do."
"Have you observed that I leave home occasionally?"
"Yes."
"In any particular way?"
"Periodically."
"That's the very thing. You have noticed it, then?"
"My dear Planchet, you must understand that when people see each otherevery day, and one of the two absents himself, the other misses him. Donot you feel the want of my society when I am in the country?"
"Prodigiously; that is to say, I feel like a body without a soul."
"That being understood, then, let us go on."
"What are the periods when I absent myself?"
"On the fifteenth and thirtieth of every month."
"And I remain away?"
"Sometimes two, sometimes three, and sometimes four days at a time."
"Have you ever given it a thought, what I have been absent for?"
"To look after your debts, I suppose."
"And when I returned, how did you think I looked, as far as my face wasconcerned?"
"Exceedingly satisfied."
"You admit, you say, that I always look very satisfied. And what haveyou attributed my satisfaction to?"
"That your business was going on very well: that your purchases of rice,prunes, raw sugar, dried apples and pears, and treacle, wereadvantageous. You were always very picturesque in your notions andideas, Planchet; and I was not in the slightest degree surprised to findyou had selected grocery as an occupation, which is of all trades themost varied, and the very pleasantest, as far as character is concerned;inasmuch as one handles so many natural and perfumed productions."
"Perfectly true, monsieur; but you are very greatly mistaken."
"In what way?"
"In thinking that I leave here every fortnight to collect my money, orto make purchases. Oh, oh! how could you possibly have thought such athing? Oh, oh, oh!" And Planchet began to laugh in a manner thatinspired D'Artagnan with very serious misgivings as to his sanity.
"I confess," said the musketeer, "that I do not precisely catch yourmeaning."
"Very true, monsieur."
"What do you mean by 'very true?'"
"It must be true, since you say it; but pray, be assured that it in noway lessens my opinion of you."
"Ah! that is very fortunate."
"No; you are a man of genius; and whenever the question happens to be ofwar, tactics, surprises, or good honest blows to be dealt, why, kingsare all nonsense, compared to you. But for the consolations of the mind,the proper care of the body, the agreeable things of life, if one maysay so--ah! monsieur, don't talk to me about men of genius; they arenothing short of executioners."
"Good," said D'Artagnan, quite fidgety with curiosity; "upon my word youinterest me in the highest degree."
"You feel already less bored than you did just now, do you not?"
"I was not bored; yet since you have been talking to me I feel moreamused."
"Very good, then; that is not a bad beginning. I will cure you, relyupon that."
"There is nothing I should like better."
"Will you let me try then?"
"Immediately, if you like."
"Very well. Have you any horses here?"
"Yes; ten, twenty, thirty."
"Oh, there is no occasion for so many as that; two will be quitesufficient."
"They are quite at your disposal, Planchet."
"Very good; then I shall carry you off with me."
"When?"
"To-morrow."
"Where?"
"Ah, you are asking me too much."
"You will admit, however, that it is important I should know where I amgoing."
"Do you like the country?"
"Only moderately, Planchet."
"In that case, you like town better."
"That is as it may be."
"Very well; I am going to take you to a place half town, half country."
"Good."
"To a place where I am sure you will amuse yourself."
"Is it possible?"
"Yes; and more wonderful still, to a place from which you have justreturned, for the purpose only, it would seem, of getting bored here."
"It is to Fontainebleau you are going, then?"
"Exactly; to Fontainebleau."
"And, in Heaven's name, what are you going to do at Fontainebleau?"
Planchet answered D'Artagnan by a wink full of sly humor.
"You have some property there, you rascal."
"Oh, a very paltry affair; a little bit of a house--nothing more."
"I understand you."
"But it is tolerable enough, after all."
"I am going to Planchet's country seat!" exclaimed D'Artagnan.
"Whenever you like."
"Did we not fix to-morrow?"
"Let us say to-morrow, if you like; and then, besides, to-morrow is the14th, that is to say, the day before the one when I am afraid of gettingbored; so we will look upon it as an understood thing."
"Agreed, by all means."
"You will lend me one of your horses?"
"The best I have."
"No; I prefer the gentlest of all; I never was a very good rider, as youknow, and in my grocery business I have got more awkward than ever:besides--"
"Besides what?"
"Why," added Planchet, "I do not wish to fatigue myself."
"Why so?" D'Artagnan ventured to ask.
"Because I should lose half the pleasure I expect to enjoy," repliedPlanchet. And thereupon he rose from his sack of Indian corn, stretchinghimself, and making all his bones crack, one after the other, with asort of harmony.
"Planchet, Planchet," exclaimed D'Artagnan, "I do declare that there isno Sybarite upon the whole face of the globe who can for a moment becompared to you. Oh, Planchet, it is very clear that we have never yeteaten a ton of salt together."
"Why so, monsieur?"
"Because, even now I can scarcely say I know you," said D'Artagnan, "andbecause, in point of fact, I return to the opinion which, for a moment,I had formed of you on that day at Boulogne, when you strangled, or didso as nearly as possible, M. de Wardes' valet, Lubin; in plainlanguage, Planchet, that you are a man of great resources."
Planchet began to laugh with a laugh full of self-conceit; bade themusketeer good-night, and went downstairs to his back shop, which heused as a bedroom. D'Artagnan resumed his original position upon hischair, and his brow, which had been unruffled for a moment, became morepensive than ever. He had already forgotten the whims and dreams ofPlanchet. "Yes," said he, taking up again the thread of his thoughts,which had been broken by the agreeable conversation in which we havejust permitted our readers to participate. "Yes, yes, those three pointsinclude everything: First, to ascertain what Baisemeaux wanted withAramis; secondly, to learn why Aramis does not let me hear from him; andthirdly, to ascertain where Porthos
is. The whole mystery lies in thesethree points. Since, therefore," continued D'Artagnan, "our friends tellus nothing, we must have recourse to our own poor intelligence. I mustdo what I can, mordioux, or rather Malaga, as Planchet would say."
The Vicomte de Bragelonne Page 9