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The Forty-Five Guardsmen - ebook

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5 listopada 2019
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The Forty-Five Guardsmen - ebook

„The Forty-Five Guardsmen”, by Alexandre Dumas (1894), the most celebrated of French romance writers, is in two volumes, and is the third of a series known as „The Valois Romances”. It basically deals with Diana de Meridor and her servant Remy who find a way to take revenge upon Duc d’Anjou for his heinous betrayal of Bussy d’Amboise. Historically it commences with the execution of Salcede and the arrival of the Forty-Five at Paris and deals with the Guise intrigues, the campaign of Anjou in Flanders and his death; the events in the novel take place in 1584-1585. Alexandre Dumas’ „The Forty-Five Guardsmen”, which has been translated into several languages, tells a wonderful story, full of the rich historical detail, rousing action, and gripping characters that mark the best of Dumas’ work.

Kategoria: Classic Literature
Język: Angielski
Zabezpieczenie: Watermark
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ISBN: 978-83-8176-641-8
Rozmiar pliku: 2,8 MB

FRAGMENT KSIĄŻKI

Contents

CHAPTER I. The Porte St. Antoine

CHAPTER II. What passed outside the Porte St. Antoine

CHAPTER III. The Examination

CHAPTER IV. His Majesty Henri the Third

CHAPTER V. The Execution

CHAPTER VI. The Brothers

CHAPTER VII. "The Sword of the Brave Chevalier"

CHAPTER VIII. The Gascon

CHAPTER IX. M. de Loignac

CHAPTER X. The Purchase of Cuirasses

CHAPTER XI. Still the League

CHAPTER XII. The Chamber of his Majesty Henri III.

CHAPTER XIII. The Dormitory

CHAPTER XIV. The Shade of Chicot

CHAPTER XV. The Difficulty of finding a good Ambassador

CHAPTER XVI. The Serenade

CHAPTER XVII. Chicot's Purse

CHAPTER XVIII. The Priory of the Jacobins

CHAPTER XIX. The two Friends

CHAPTER XX. The Breakfast

CHAPTER XXI. Brother Borromée

CHAPTER XXII. The Lesson

CHAPTER XXIII. The Penitent

CHAPTER XXIV. The Ambush

CHAPTER XXV. The Guises

CHAPTER XXVI. The Louvre

CHAPTER XXVII. The Revelation

CHAPTER XXVIII. Two Friends

CHAPTER XXIX. St. Maline

CHAPTER XXX. De Loignac's Interview with the Forty-Five

CHAPTER XXXI. The Bourgeois of Paris

CHAPTER XXXII. Brother Borromée

CHAPTER XXXIII. Chicot, Latinist

CHAPTER XXXIV. The four Winds

CHAPTER XXXV. How Chicot continued his Journey, and what happened to him

CHAPTER XXXVI. The third Day of the Journey

CHAPTER XXXVII. Ernanton de Carmainges

CHAPTER XXXVIII. The Stable-Yard

CHAPTER XXXIX. The Seven Sins of Magdalen

CHAPTER XL. Bel-Esbat

CHAPTER XLI. The Letter of M. de Mayenne

CHAPTER XLII. How Dom Gorenflot blessed the King as he passed before the Priory of the Jacobins

CHAPTER XLIII. How Chicot blessed King Louis II. for having invented Posting, and resolved to profit by it

CHAPTER XLIV. How the King of Navarre guesses that "Turennius" means Turenne, and"Margota" Margot

CHAPTER XLV. The Avenue three thousand Feet long

CHAPTER XLVI. Marguerite's Room

CHAPTER XLVII. The Explanation

CHAPTER XLVIII. The Spanish Ambassador

CHAPTER XLIX. The Poor of Henri of Navarre

CHAPTER L. The true Mistress of the King of Navarre

CHAPTER LI. Chicot's Astonishment at finding himself so popular in Nerac

CHAPTER LII. How they hunted the Wolf in Navarre

CHAPTER LIII. How Henri of Navarre behaved in Battle

CHAPTER LIV. What was passing at the Louvre about the Time Chicot entered Nerac

CHAPTER LV. Red Plume and White Plume

CHAPTER LVI. The Door opens

CHAPTER LVII. How a great Lady loved in the Year 1586

CHAPTER LVIII. How St. Maline entered into the Turret and what followed

CHAPTER LIX. What was passing in the mysterious House

CHAPTER LX. The Laboratory

CHAPTER LXI. What Monsieur Francois, Duc d'Anjou, Duc de Brabant and Comte de Flanders, was doing in Flanders

CHAPTER LXII. Preparations for Battle

CHAPTER LXIII. Monseigneur

CHAPTER LXIV. Monseigneur

CHAPTER LXV. French and Flemings

CHAPTER LXVI. The Travelers

CHAPTER LXVII. Explanation

CHAPTER LXVIII. The Water

CHAPTER LXIX. Flight

CHAPTER LXX. Transfiguration

CHAPTER LXXI. The two Brothers

CHAPTER LXXII. The Expedition

CHAPTER LXXIII. Paul-Emile

CHAPTER LXXIV. One of the Souvenirs of the Duc d'Anjou

CHAPTER LXXV. How Aurilly executed the Commission of the Duc d'Anjou

CHAPTER LXXVI. The Journey

CHAPTER LXXVII. How King Henri III. did not invite Grillon to Breakfast, and how Chicot invited himself

CHAPTER LXXVIII. How, after receiving News from the South, Henri received News from the North

CHAPTER LXXIX. The two Companions

CHAPTER LXXX. The Corne d'Abondance

CHAPTER LXXXI. What happened in the little Room

CHAPTER LXXXII. The Husband and the Lover

CHAPTER LXXXIII. Showing how Chicot began to understand the Purport of Monsieur de Guise's Letter

CHAPTER LXXXIV. Le Cardinal de Joyeuse

CHAPTER LXXXV. News from Aurilly

CHAPTER LXXXVI. Doubt

CHAPTER LXXXVII. Certainty

CHAPTER LXXXVIII. Fatality

CHAPTER LXXXIX. Les Hospitalières

CHAPTER XC. His Highness Monseigneur le Duc de Guise

POSTSCRIPTCHAPTER I

THE PORTE ST. ANTOINE

On the 26th of October, 1585, the barriers of the Porte St. Antoine were, contrary to custom, still closed at half-past ten in the morning. A quarter of an hour after, a guard of twenty Swiss, the favorite troops of Henri III., then king, passed through these barriers, which were again closed behind them. Once through, they arranged themselves along the hedges, which, outside the barrier, bordered each side of the road.

There was a great crowd collected there, for numbers of peasants and other people had been stopped at the gates on their way into Paris. They were arriving by three different roads–from Montreuil, from Vincennes, and from St. Maur; and the crowd was growing more dense every moment. Monks from the convent in the neighborhood, women seated on pack-saddles, and peasants in their carts, and all, by their questions more or less pressing, formed a continual murmur, while some voices were raised above the others in shriller tones of anger or complaint.

There were, besides this mass of arrivals, some groups who seemed to have come from the city. These, instead of looking at the gate, fastened their gaze on the horizon, bounded by the Convent of the Jacobins, the Priory of Vincennes, and the Croix Faubin, as though they were expecting to see some one arrive. These groups consisted chiefly of bourgeois, warmly wrapped up, for the weather was cold, and the piercing northeast wind seemed trying to tear from the trees all the few remaining leaves which clung sadly to them.

Three of these bourgeois were talking together–that is to say, two talked and one listened, or rather seemed to listen, so occupied was he in looking toward Vincennes. Let us turn our attention to this last. He was a man who must be tall when he stood upright, but at this moment his long legs were bent under him, and his arms, not less long in proportion, were crossed over his breast. He was leaning against the hedge, which almost hid his face, before which he also held up his hand as if for further concealment. By his side a little man, mounted on a hillock, was talking to another tall man who was constantly slipping off the summit of the same hillock, and at each slip catching at the button of his neighbor’s doublet.

“Yes, Maitre Miton,” said the little man to the tall one, “yes, I tell you that there will be 100,000 people around the scaffold of Salcede–100,000 at least. See, without counting those already on the Place de Greve, or who came there from different parts of Paris, the number of people here; and this is but one gate out of sixteen.”

“One hundred thousand! that is much, Friard,” replied M. Miton. “Be sure many people will follow my example, and not go to see this unlucky man quartered, for fear of an uproar.”

“M. Miton, there will be none, I answer for it. Do you not think so, monsieur?” continued he, turning to the long-armed man.–”What?” said the other, as though he had not heard.

“They say there will be nothing on the Place de Greve to-day.”

“I think you are wrong, and that there will be the execution of Salcede.”

“Yes, doubtless: but I mean that there will be no noise about it.”

“There will be the noise of the blows of the whip, which they will give to the horses.”

“You do not understand: by noise I mean tumult. If there were likely to be any, the king would not have had a stand prepared for him and the two queens at the Hotel de Ville.”

“Do kings ever know when a tumult will take place?” replied the other, shrugging his shoulders with an air of pity.

“Oh, oh!” said M. Miton; “this man talks in a singular way. Do you know who he is, compere?”

“No.”

“Then why do you speak to him? You are wrong. I do not think he likes to talk.”

“And yet it seems to me,” replied Friard, loud enough to be heard by the stranger, “that one of the greatest pleasures in life is to exchange thoughts.”

“Yes, with those whom we know well,” answered M. Miton.

“Are not all men brothers, as the priests say?”

“They were primitively; but in times like ours the relationship is singularly loosened. Talk low, if you must talk, and leave the stranger alone.”

“But I know you so well, I know what you will reply, while the stranger may have something new to tell me.”

“Hush! he is listening.”

“So much the better; perhaps he will answer. Then you think, monsieur,” continued he, turning again toward him, “that there will be a tumult?”

“I did not say so.”

“No; but I believe you think so.”

“And on what do you found your surmise, M. Friard?”

“Why, he knows me!”

“Have I not named you two or three times?” said Miton.

“Ah! true. Well, since he knows me, perhaps he will answer. Now, monsieur, I believe you agree with me, or else would be there, while, on the contrary, you are here.”

“But you, M. Friard, since you think the contrary of what you think I think, why are you not at the Place de Greve? I thought the spectacle would have been a joyful one to all friends of the king. Perhaps you will reply that you are not friends of the king; but of MM. de Guise, and that you are waiting here for the Lorraines, who they say are about to enter Paris in order to deliver M. de Salcede.”

“No, monsieur,” replied the little man, visibly frightened at this suggestion; “I wait for my wife, Nicole Friard, who has gone to take twenty-four tablecloths to the priory of the Jacobins, having the honor to be washerwoman to Dom. Modeste Gorenflot, the abbe.”

“Look, compere,” cried Miton, “at what is passing.”

M. Friard, following the direction of his friend’s finger, saw them closing yet another door, while a party of Swiss placed themselves before it. “How! more barriers!” cried he.

“What did I tell you?” said Miton.

At the sight of this new precaution, a long murmur of astonishment and some cries of discontent proceeded from the crowd.

“Clear the road! Back!” cried an officer.

This maneuver was not executed without difficulty; the people in carts and on horseback tried to go back, and nearly crushed the crowd behind them. Women cried and men swore, while those who could escape, did, overturning the others.

“The Lorraines! the Lorraines!” cried a voice in the midst of this tumult.

“Oh!” cried Miton, trembling, “let us fly.”

“Fly! and where?” said Friard.

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