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The Vicomte De Bragelonne
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The Vicomte De Bragelonne 58 at Prostate Health
cap, arose assoon as he heard DArtagnan -- we ought not to say arose,but bounded up. In fact, Bazin bounded up, carrying with himhis little low chair, which the children tried to take away,with battles more fierce than those of the Greeksendeavoring to recover the body of Patroclus from the handsof the Trojans. Bazin did more than bound; he let fall bothhis alphabet and his ferule. "You!" said he, "you, MonsieurdArtagnan?""Yes, myself! Where is Aramis -- no, M. le ChevalierdHerblay -- no, I am still mistaken -- Monsieur leVicaire-General?""Ah, monsieur," said Bazin, with dignity, "monseigneur is athis diocese.""What did you say?" said DArtagnan. Bazin repeated thesentence."Ah, ah! but has Aramis a diocese?""Yes, monsieur. Why not?""Is he a bishop, then?""Why, where can you come from," said Bazin, ratherirreverently, "that you dont know that?""My dear Bazin, we pagans, we men of the sword, know verywell when a man is made a colonel, or maitre-de-camp, ormarshal of France; but if he be made a bishop, archbishop,or pope -- devil take me if the news reaches us before thethree quarters of the earth have had the advantage of it!""Hush! hush!" said Bazin, opening his eyes: "do not spoilthese poor children, in whom I am endeavoring to inculcatesuch good principles." In fact, the children had surroundedDArtagnan, whose horse, long sword, spurs, and martial airthey very much admired. But above all, they admired hisstrong voice; so that, when he uttered his oath, the wholeschool cried out, "The devil take me!" with fearful burstsof laughter, shouts, and bounds, which delighted themusketeer, and bewildered the old pedagogue."There!" said he, "hold your tongues, you brats! You havecome, M. dArtagnan, and all my good principles fly away.With you, as usual, comes disorder. Babel is revived. Ah!Good Lord! Ah! the wild little wretches!" And the worthyBazin distributed right and left blows which increased thecries of his scholars by changing the nature of them."At least," said he, "you will no longer decoy any onehere.""Do you think so?" said DArtagnan, with a smile which madea shudder creep over the shoulders of Bazin."He is capable of it," murmured he."Where is your masters diocese?""Monseigneur Rene is bishop of Vannes.""Who had him nominated?""Why, monsieur le surintendant, our neighbor.""What! Monsieur Fouquet?""To be sure he did.""Is Aramis on good terms with him, then?""Monseigneur preached every Sunday at the house of monsieurle surintendant at Vaux; then they hunted together.""Ah!""And monseigneur composed his homilies -- no, I mean hissermons -- with monsieur le surintendant.""Bah! he preached in verse, then, this worthy bishop?""Monsieur, for the love of heaven, do not jest with sacredthings.""There, Bazin, there! So, then, Aramis is at Vannes?""At Vannes, in Bretagne.""You are a deceitful old hunks, Bazin; that is not true.""See, monsieur, if you please; the apartments of thepresbytery are empty.""He is right there," said DArtagnan, looking attentively atthe house, the aspect of which announced solitude."But monseigneur must have written you an account of hispromotion.""When did it take place?""A month back.""Oh! then there is no time lost. Aramis cannot yet havewanted me. But how is it, Bazin, you do not follow yourmaster?""Monsieur, I cannot; I have occupations.""Your alphabet?""And my penitents.""What, do you confess, then? Are you a priest?""The same as one. I have such a call.""But the orders?""Oh," said Bazin, without hesitation, "now that monseigneuris a bishop, I shall soon have my orders, or at least mydispensations." And he rubbed his hands."Decidedly," said DArtagnan to himself, "there will be nomeans of uprooting these people. Get me some supper Bazin.""With pleasure, monsieur.""A fowl, a bouillon, and a bottle of wine.""This is Saturday, monsieur -- it is a day of abstinence.""I have a dispensation," said DArtagnan.Bazin looked at him suspiciously."Ah, ah, master hypocrite!" said the musketeer, "for whom doyou take me? If you, who are the valet, hope fordispensation to commit a crime, shall not I, the friend ofyour bishop, have dispensation for eating meat at the callof my stomach? Make yourself agreeable with me, Bazin, or,by heavens! I will complain to the king, and you shall neverconfess. Now you know that the nomination of bishops restswith the king -- I have the king, I am the stronger."Bazin smiled hypocritically. "Ah, but we have monsieur lesurintendant," said he."And you laugh at the king, then?"Bazin made no reply; his smile was
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