As hope, however, is the last thing extinguished in the heart of man, he finished by hoping that he might survive, even though with terrible wounds, in both these duels; and in case of surviving, he made the following reprehensions upon his own conduct: "What a madcap I was, and what a stupid fellow I am! That brave and unfortunate Athos was wounded on that very shoulder against which I must run head foremost, like a ram.

The only thing that astonishes me is that he did not strike me dead at once.

He had good cause to do so; the pain I gave him must have been atrocious.

As to Porthos--oh, as to Porthos, faith, that's a droll affair!" And in spite of himself, the young man began to laugh aloud, looking round carefully, however, to see that his solitary laugh, without a cause in the eyes of passers-by, offended no one.
"As to Porthos, that is certainly droll; but I am not the less a giddy fool.

Are people to be run against without warning?
No! And have I any right to go and peep under their cloaks to see what is not there?
He would have pardoned me, he would certainly have pardoned me, if I had not said anything to him about that cursed baldric--in ambiguous words, it is true, but rather drolly ambiguous.