Twenty Years After HTML version
In Which It Is Shown That
In Which It Is Shown That If Porthos Was Discontented With His Condition,
Mousqueton Was Completely Satisfied With His.
As they returned toward the castle, D'Artagnan thought of the miseries of poor human
nature, always dissatisfied with what it has, ever desirous of what it has not.
In the position of Porthos, D'Artagnan would have been perfectly happy; and to make
Porthos contented there was wanting -- what? five letters to put before his three names, a
tiny coronet to paint upon the panels of his carriage!
"I shall pass all my life," thought D'Artagnan, "in seeking for a man who is really
contented with his lot."
Whilst making this reflection, chance seemed, as it were, to give him the lie direct. When
Porthos had left him to give some orders he saw Mousqueton approaching. The face of
the steward, despite one slight shade of care, light as a summer cloud, seemed a
physiognomy of absolute felicity.
"Here is what I am looking for," thought D'Artagnan; "but alas! the poor fellow does not
know the purpose for which I am here."
He then made a sign for Mousqueton to come to him.
"Sir," said the servant, "I have a favour to ask you."
"Speak out, my friend."
"I am afraid to do so. Perhaps you will think, sir, that prosperity has spoiled me?"
"Art thou happy, friend?" asked D'Artagnan.
"As happy as possible; and yet, sir, you may make me even happier than I am."
"Well, speak, if it depends on me."
"Oh, sir! it depends on you only."
"I listen -- I am waiting to hear."
"Sir, the favor I have to ask of you is, not to call me `Mousqueton' but `Mouston.' Since I
have had the honor of being my lord's steward I have taken the last name as more