What, the devil! it is not the place for a man like you, a man who plays with crowns and scepters as a Bohemian plays with his balls; it is not the place of a serious man, I said, to be shut up in a box like some freak of natural history; for you must understand it would make all your enemies ready to burst with laughter, and you are so great, so noble, so generous, that you must have many enemies.

This secret is enough to set half the human race laughing, if you were represented in that box.

It is not decent to have the second personage in the kingdom laughed at." Monk was quite out of countenance at the idea of seeing himself represented in this box.

Ridicule, as D'Artagnan had judiciously foreseen, acted upon him in a manner which neither the chances of war, the aspirations of ambition, nor the fear of death had been able to do.
"Good," thought the Gascon, "he is frightened: I am safe." "Oh! as to the king," said Monk, "fear nothing, my dear Monsieur d'Artagnan; the king will not jest with Monk, I assure you!" The momentary flash of his eye was noticed by D'Artagnan.

Monk lowered his tone immediately: "The king," continued he, "is of too noble a nature, the king's heart is too high to allow him to wish ill to those who do him good." "Oh! certainly," cried D'Artagnan.