Text Leveling System

The Three Musketeers

RDQ:	4797	Max Word/Sent	106	Total Words	3598		Diff Words	1098
Lex	1170	Ave Word/.Sent	22	Hi Freq occurs	2444	67.9%	Hi freq	345	31.4%
AR	9.0	Long Sentences	67.5	Low Freq occurs	522	14.5%	Low freq	386	35.2%

1 THE THREE PRESENTS OF D'ARTAGNAN THE ELDER

On the first Monday of the month of April, 1625, the market town of
Meung, in which the author of ROMANCE OF THE ROSE was born, appeared to
be in as perfect a state of revolution as if the Huguenots had just made
a second La Rochelle of it. Many citizens, seeing the women flying
toward the High Street, leaving their children crying at the open doors,
hastened to don the cuirass, and supporting their somewhat uncertain
courage with a musket or a partisan, directed their steps toward the
hostelry of the Jolly Miller, before which was gathered, increasing
every minute, a compact group, vociferous and full of curiosity.

In those times panics were common, and few days passed without some city
or other registering in its archives an event of this kind. There were
nobles, who made war against each other; there was the king, who made
war against the cardinal; there was Spain, which made war against the
king. Then, in addition to these concealed or public, secret or open
wars, there were robbers, mendicants, Huguenots, wolves, and scoundrels,
who made war upon everybody. The citizens always took up arms readily
against thieves, wolves or scoundrels, often against nobles or
Huguenots, sometimes against the king, but never against cardinal or
Spain. It resulted, then, from this habit that on the said first Monday
of April, 1625, the citizens, on hearing the clamor, and seeing neither
the red-and-yellow standard nor the livery of the Duc de Richelieu,
rushed toward the hostel of the Jolly Miller. When arrived there, the
cause of the hubbub was apparent to all.

A young man--we can sketch his portrait at a dash. Imagine to yourself a
Don Quixote of eighteen; a Don Quixote without his corselet, without his
coat of mail, without his cuisses; a Don Quixote clothed in a woolen
doublet, the blue color of which had faded into a nameless shade between
lees of wine and a heavenly azure; face long and brown; high cheek
bones, a sign of sagacity; the maxillary muscles enormously developed,
an infallible sign by which a Gascon may always be detected, even
without his cap--and our young man wore a cap set off with a sort of
feather; the eye open and intelligent; the nose hooked, but finely
chiseled. Too big for a youth, too small for a grown man, an experienced
eye might have taken him for a farmer's son upon a journey had it not
been for the long sword which, dangling from a leather baldric, hit
against the calves of its owner as he walked, and against the rough side
of his steed when he was on horseback.

For our young man had a steed which was the observed of all observers.
It was a Bearn pony, from twelve to fourteen years old, yellow in his
hide, without a hair in his tail, but not without windgalls on his legs,
which, though going with his head lower than his knees, rendering a
martingale quite unnecessary, contrived nevertheless to perform his
eight leagues a day. Unfortunately, the qualities of this horse were so
well concealed under his strange-colored hide and his unaccountable
gait, that at a time when everybody was a connoisseur in horseflesh, the
appearance of the aforesaid pony at Meung--which place he had entered
about a quarter of an hour before, by the gate of Beaugency--produced an
unfavorable feeling, which extended to his rider.

And this feeling had been more painfully perceived by young
d'Artagnan--for so was the Don Quixote of this second Rosinante
named--from his not being able to conceal from himself the ridiculous
appearance that such a steed gave him, good horseman as he was. He had
sighed deeply, therefore, when accepting the gift of the pony from M.
d'Artagnan the elder. He was not ignorant that such a beast was worth at
least twenty livres; and the words which had accompanied the present
were above all price.

"My son," said the old Gascon gentleman, in that pure Bearn PATOIS of
which Henry IV could never rid himself, "this horse was born in the
house of your father about thirteen years ago, and has remained in it
ever since, which ought to make you love it. Never sell it; allow it to
die tranquilly and honorably of old age, and if you make a campaign with
it, take as much care of it as you would of an old servant. At court,
provided you have ever the honor to go there," continued M. d'Artagnan
the elder, "--an honor to which, remember, your ancient nobility gives
you the right--sustain worthily your name of gentleman, which has been
worthily borne by your ancestors for five hundred years, both for your
own sake and the sake of those who belong to you. By the latter I mean
your relatives and friends. Endure nothing from anyone except Monsieur
the Cardinal and the king. It is by his courage, please observe, by his
courage alone, that a gentleman can make his way nowadays. Whoever
hesitates for a second perhaps allows the bait to escape which during
that exact second fortune held out to him. You are young. You ought to
be brave for two reasons: the first is that you are a Gascon, and the
second is that you are my son. Never fear quarrels, but seek adventures.
I have taught you how to handle a sword; you have thews of iron, a wrist
of steel. Fight on all occasions. Fight the more for duels being
forbidden, since consequently there is twice as much courage in
fighting. I have nothing to give you, my son, but fifteen crowns, my
horse, and the counsels you have just heard. Your mother will add to
them a recipe for a certain balsam, which she had from a Bohemian and
which has the miraculous virtue of curing all wounds that do not reach
the heart. Take advantage of all, and live happily and long. I have but
one word to add, and that is to propose an example to you--not mine, for
I myself have never appeared at court, and have only taken part in
religious wars as a volunteer; I speak of Monsieur de Treville, who was
formerly my neighbor, and who had the honor to be, as a child, the
play-fellow of our king, Louis X I I I, whom God preserve! Sometimes their
play degenerated into battles, and in these battles the king was not
always the stronger. The blows which he received increased greatly his
esteem and friendship for Monsieur de Treville. Afterward, Monsieur de
Treville fought with others: in his first journey to Paris, five times;
from the death of the late king till the young one came of age, without
reckoning wars and sieges, seven times; and from that date up to the
present day, a hundred times, perhaps! So that in spite of edicts,
ordinances, and decrees, there he is, captain of the Musketeers; that is
to say, chief of a legion of Caesars, whom the king holds in great
esteem and whom the cardinal dreads--he who dreads nothing, as it is
said. Still further, Monsieur de Treville gains ten thousand crowns a
year; he is therefore a great noble. He began as you begin. Go to him
with this letter, and make him your model in order that you may do as he
has done."

Upon which M. d'Artagnan the elder girded his own sword round his son,
kissed him tenderly on both cheeks, and gave him his benediction.

On leaving the paternal chamber, the young man found his mother, who was
waiting for him with the famous recipe of which the counsels we have
just repeated would necessitate frequent employment. The adieux were on
this side longer and more tender than they had been on the other--not
that M. d'Artagnan did not love his son, who was his only offspring, but
M. d'Artagnan was a man, and he would have considered it unworthy of a
man to give way to his feelings; whereas Mme. d'Artagnan was a woman,
and still more, a mother. She wept abundantly; and--let us speak it to
the praise of M. d'Artagnan the younger--notwithstanding the efforts he
made to remain firm, as a future Musketeer ought, nature prevailed, and
he shed many tears, of which he succeeded with great difficulty in
concealing the half.

The same day the young man set forward on his journey, furnished with
the three paternal gifts, which consisted, as we have said, of fifteen
crowns, the horse, and the letter for M. de Treville--the counsels being
thrown into the bargain.

With such a VADE MECUM d'Artagnan was morally and physically an exact
copy of the hero of Cervantes, to whom we so happily compared him when
our duty of an historian placed us under the necessity of sketching his
portrait. Don Quixote took windmills for giants, and sheep for armies;
d'Artagnan took every smile for an insult, and every look as a
provocation--whence it resulted that from Tarbes to Meung his fist was
constantly doubled, or his hand on the hilt of his sword; and yet the
fist did not descend upon any jaw, nor did the sword issue from its
scabbard. It was not that the sight of the wretched pony did not excite
numerous smiles on the countenances of passers-by; but as against the
side of this pony rattled a sword of respectable length, and as over
this sword gleamed an eye rather ferocious than haughty, these
passers-by repressed their hilarity, or if hilarity prevailed over
prudence, they endeavored to laugh only on one side, like the masks of
the ancients. D'Artagnan, then, remained majestic and intact in his
susceptibility, till he came to this unlucky city of Meung.

But there, as he was alighting from his horse at the gate of the Jolly
Miller, without anyone--host, waiter, or hostler--coming to hold his
stirrup or take his horse, d'Artagnan spied, though an open window on
the ground floor, a gentleman, well-made and of good carriage, although
of rather a stern countenance, talking with two persons who appeared to
listen to him with respect. d'Artagnan fancied quite naturally,
according to his custom, that he must be the object of their
conversation, and listened. This time d'Artagnan was only in part
mistaken; he himself was not in question, but his horse was. The
gentleman appeared to be enumerating all his qualities to his auditors;
and, as I have said, the auditors seeming to have great deference for
the narrator, they every moment burst into fits of laughter. Now, as a
half-smile was sufficient to awaken the irascibility of the young man,
the effect produced upon him by this vociferous mirth may be easily
imagined.

Nevertheless, d'Artagnan was desirous of examining the appearance of
this impertinent personage who ridiculed him. He fixed his haughty eye
upon the stranger, and perceived a man of from forty to forty-five years
of age, with black and piercing eyes, pale complexion, a strongly marked
nose, and a black and well-shaped mustache. He was dressed in a doublet
and hose of a violet color, with aiguillettes of the same color, without
any other ornaments than the customary slashes, through which the shirt
appeared. This doublet and hose, though new, were creased, like
traveling clothes for a long time packed in a portmanteau. d'Artagnan
made all these remarks with the rapidity of a most minute observer, and
doubtless from an instinctive feeling that this stranger was destined to
have a great influence over his future life.

Now, as at the moment in which d'Artagnan fixed his eyes upon the
gentleman in the violet doublet, the gentleman made one of his most
knowing and profound remarks respecting the Bearnese pony, his two
auditors laughed even louder than before, and he himself, though
contrary to his custom, allowed a pale smile (if I may allowed to use
such an expression) to stray over his countenance. This time there could
be no doubt; d'Artagnan was really insulted. Full, then, of this
conviction, he pulled his cap down over his eyes, and endeavoring to
copy some of the court airs he had picked up in Gascony among young
traveling nobles, he advanced with one hand on the hilt of his sword and
the other resting on his hip. Unfortunately, as he advanced, his anger
increased at every step; and instead of the proper and lofty speech he
had prepared as a prelude to his challenge, he found nothing at the tip
of his tongue but a gross personality, which he accompanied with a
furious gesture.

"I say, sir, you sir, who are hiding yourself behind that shutter--yes,
you, sir, tell me what you are laughing at, and we will laugh together!"

The gentleman raised his eyes slowly from the nag to his cavalier, as if
he required some time to ascertain whether it could be to him that such
strange reproaches were addressed; then, when he could not possibly
entertain any doubt of the matter, his eyebrows slightly bent, and with
an accent of irony and insolence impossible to be described, he replied
to d'Artagnan, "I was not speaking to you, sir."

"But I am speaking to you!" replied the young man, additionally
exasperated with this mixture of insolence and good manners, of
politeness and scorn.

The stranger looked at him again with a slight smile, and retiring from
the window, came out of the hostelry with a slow step, and placed
himself before the horse, within two paces of d'Artagnan. His quiet
manner and the ironical expression of his countenance redoubled the
mirth of the persons with whom he had been talking, and who still
remained at the window.

D'Artagnan, seeing him approach, drew his sword a foot out of the
scabbard.

"This horse is decidedly, or rather has been in his youth, a buttercup,"
resumed the stranger, continuing the remarks he had begun, and
addressing himself to his auditors at the window, without paying the
least attention to the exasperation of d'Artagnan, who, however placed
himself between him and them. "It is a color very well known in botany,
but till the present time very rare among horses."

"There are people who laugh at the horse that would not dare to laugh at
the master," cried the young emulator of the furious Treville.

"I do not often laugh, sir," replied the stranger, "as you may perceive
by the expression of my countenance; but nevertheless I retain the
privilege of laughing when I please."

"And I," cried d'Artagnan, "will allow no man to laugh when it
displeases me!"

"Indeed, sir," continued the stranger, more calm than ever; "well, that
is perfectly right!" and turning on his heel, was about to re-enter the
hostelry by the front gate, beneath which d'Artagnan on arriving had
observed a saddled horse.

But, d'Artagnan was not of a character to allow a man to escape him thus
who had the insolence to ridicule him. He drew his sword entirely from
the scabbard, and followed him, crying, "Turn, turn, Master Joker, lest
I strike you behind!"

"Strike me!" said the other, turning on his heels, and surveying the
young man with as much astonishment as contempt. "Why, my good fellow,
you must be mad!" Then, in a suppressed tone, as if speaking to himself,
"This is annoying," continued he. "What a godsend this would be for his
Majesty, who is seeking everywhere for brave fellows to recruit for his
Musketeers!"

He had scarcely finished, when d'Artagnan made such a furious lunge at
him that if he had not sprung nimbly backward, it is probable he would
have jested for the last time. The stranger, then perceiving that the
matter went beyond raillery, drew his sword, saluted his adversary, and
seriously placed himself on guard. But at the same moment, his two
auditors, accompanied by the host, fell upon d'Artagnan with sticks,
shovels and tongs. This caused so rapid and complete a diversion from
the attack that d'Artagnan's adversary, while the latter turned round to
face this shower of blows, sheathed his sword with the same precision,
and instead of an actor, which he had nearly been, became a spectator of
the fight--a part in which he acquitted himself with his usual
impassiveness, muttering, nevertheless, "A plague upon these Gascons!
Replace him on his orange horse, and let him begone!"

"Not before I have killed you, poltroon!" cried d'Artagnan, making the
best face possible, and never retreating one step before his three
assailants, who continued to shower blows upon him.

"Another gasconade!" murmured the gentleman. "By my honor, these Gascons
are incorrigible! Keep up the dance, then, since he will have it so.
When he is tired, he will perhaps tell us that he has had enough of it."

But the stranger knew not the headstrong personage he had to do with;
d'Artagnan was not the man ever to cry for quarter. The fight was
therefore prolonged for some seconds; but at length d'Artagnan dropped
his sword, which was broken in two pieces by the blow of a stick.
Another blow full upon his forehead at the same moment brought him to
the ground, covered with blood and almost fainting.

It was at this moment that people came flocking to the scene of action
from all sides. The host, fearful of consequences, with the help of his
servants carried the wounded man into the kitchen, where some trifling
attentions were bestowed upon him.

As to the gentleman, he resumed his place at the window, and surveyed
the crowd with a certain impatience, evidently annoyed by their
remaining undispersed.

"Well, how is it with this madman?" exclaimed he, turning round as the
noise of the door announced the entrance of the host, who came in to
inquire if he was unhurt.

"Your excellency is safe and sound?" asked the host.

"Oh, yes! Perfectly safe and sound, my good host; and I wish to know
what has become of our young man."

"He is better," said the host, "he fainted quite away."

"Indeed!" said the gentleman.

"But before he fainted, he collected all his strength to challenge you,
and to defy you while challenging you."

"Why, this fellow must be the devil in person!" cried the stranger.

"Oh, no, your Excellency, he is not the devil," replied the host, with a
grin of contempt; "for during his fainting we rummaged his valise and
found nothing but a clean shirt and eleven crowns--which however, did
not prevent his saying, as he was fainting, that if such a thing had
happened in Paris, you should have cause to repent of it at a later
period."

"Then," said the stranger coolly, "he must be some prince in disguise."

"I have told you this, good sir," resumed the host, "in order that you
may be on your guard."

"Did he name no one in his passion?"

"Yes; he struck his pocket and said, We shall see what Monsieur de
Treville will think of this insult offered to his protege."

"Monsieur de Treville?" said the stranger, becoming attentive, "he put
his hand upon his pocket while pronouncing the name of Monsieur de
Treville? Now, my dear host, while your young man was insensible, you
did not fail, I am quite sure, to ascertain what that pocket contained.
What was there in it?"

"A letter addressed to Monsieur de Treville, captain of the Musketeers."

"Indeed!"

"Exactly as I have the honor to tell your Excellency."

The host, who was not endowed with great perspicacity, did not observe
the expression which his words had given to the physiognomy of the
stranger. The latter rose from the front of the window, upon the sill of
which he had leaned with his elbow, and knitted his brow like a man
disquieted.

"The devil!" murmured he, between his teeth. "Can Treville have set this
Gascon upon me? He is very young; but a sword thrust is a sword thrust,
whatever be the age of him who gives it, and a youth is less to be
suspected than an older man," and the stranger fell into a reverie which
lasted some minutes. "A weak obstacle is sometimes sufficient to
overthrow a great design.

"Host," said he, "could you not contrive to get rid of this frantic boy
for me? In conscience, I cannot kill him; and yet," added he, with a
coldly menacing expression, "he annoys me. Where is he?"

"In my wife's chamber, on the first flight, where they are dressing his
wounds."

"His things and his bag are with him? Has he taken off his doublet?"

"On the contrary, everything is in the kitchen. But if he annoys you,
this young fool--"

"To be sure he does. He causes a disturbance in your hostelry, which
respectable people cannot put up with. Go; make out my bill and notify
my servant."

"What, monsieur, will you leave us so soon?"

"You know that very well, as I gave my order to saddle my horse. Have
they not obeyed me?"

"It is done; as your Excellency may have observed, your horse is in the
great gateway, ready saddled for your departure."

"That is well; do as I have directed you, then."

"What the devil!" said the host to himself. "Can he be afraid of this
boy?" But an imperious glance from the stranger stopped him short;

Subjective Criteria

Dialog: Multiple speakers

Dialog: Broken dialogue

Dialog: Unlabeled Speaker

Vocabulary: Many difficult words

Language: Archaic, Poetic,...

Sentences: Difficult

Text structure: Difficult

Inferences: Several Implications

Complexity: Several unrelated ideas

Concepts: Abstract/Complex Social

Chapters

Sequence of Events: Mostly chronological

Mature Concepts: With some uncommon experiences

Features

Character traits

Integral Setting - Historical

Complex plot

Difficult names

Foreign words

Unusual use of vocabulary

Topic

Self Control

Fighting

Dare/Daring

Kings/Queens

*Feelings, Behaviors

Relationships

Low Frequency Words

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acquitted	addition	additionally	adieux	advantage
adventures	adversary	aforesaid	aiguillettes	alighting
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approach	archives	ascertain	assailants	astonishment
attentions	attentive	auditors	awaken	azure
baldric	balsam	bargain	bearn	bearnese
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botany	calves	campaign	cardinal	carriage
cavalier	challenge	challenging	chiseled	citizens
clamor	collected	complexion	conceal	concealed
connoisseur	conscience	consequences	consequently	constantly
contempt	contrary	contrive	contrived	conversation
conviction	coolly	corselet	counsels	countenance
countenances	courage	cuirass	cuisses	curing
curiosity	customary	d'artagnan	d'artagnan's	dangling
decidedly	decrees	deference	defy	degenerated
departure	descend	desirous	destined	disguise
displeases	disquieted	disturbance	diversion	doubled
doublet	doubt	doubtless	dreads	duels
edicts	effect	elder	employment	emulator
endeavored	endeavoring	endowed	enormously	enumerating
esteem	evidently	exasperation	excellency	fancied
fellow	fellows	ferocious	flocking	formerly
fortune	frantic	frequent	furious	furnished
further	future	gait	gasconade	gascons
gascony	gateway	gentleman	gesture	girded
glance	godsend	greatly	gross	hastened
haughty	headstrong	hesitates	hilarity	hilt
historian	honor	honorably	horseflesh	horseman
host	hostel	hostelry	hostler	hubbub
huguenots	ignorant	imagined	impassiveness	impatience
imperious	impertinent	incorrigible	increased	increasing
infallible	influence	inquire	insensible	insolence
instinctive	insult	insulted	intact	intelligent
irascibility	ironical	irony	issue	jested
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lees	legion	lest	livery	livres
lofty	lunge	madman	majestic	majesty
martingale	maxillary	mecum	menacing	mendicants
meung	miraculous	mirth	mistaken	mme
model	monsieur	morally	murmured	musket
musketeer	musketeers	mustache	muttering	nag
nameless	naturally	nature	necessitate	necessity
neighbor	nevertheless	nimbly	nobility	noble
nobles	notify	notwithstanding	nowadays	numerous
obeyed	object	observe	observed	observers
obstacle	occasions	offspring	ordinances	ornaments
ought	overthrow	paces	painfully	panics
paris	partisan	passers	passion	paternal
patois	perceive	perceived	perceiving	perform
personage	personality	perspicacity	physically	physiognomy
piercing	plague	politeness	poltroon	portmanteau
portrait	praise	precision	prelude	preserve
prevailed	privilege	probable	profound	prolonged
pronouncing	propose	protege	provided	provocation
prudence	public	pure	qualities	quarrels
quixote	raillery	rapidity	readily	reasons
recipe	reckoning	recruit	registering	relatives
religious	rendering	repent	repressed	reproaches
required	respect	respectable	respecting	resulted
resumed	retain	retiring	retreating	reverie
revolution	richelieu	ridicule	ridiculed	ridiculous
rochelle	romance	rosinante	rough	rummaged
sagacity	sake	saluted	scabbard	scarcely
scoundrels	seeming	seriously	servant	servants
sheathed	shovels	shower	shutter	sieges
sketch	sketching	slashes	somewhat	spectator
speech	spied	spite	sprung	steed
stern	stirrup	sufficient	surveyed	surveying
susceptibility	suspected	sustain	sword	tarbes
tenderly	thews	thieves	thrust	tongs
tranquilly	treville	trifling	uncertain	undispersed
unfavorable	unfortunately	unhurt	unlucky	unnecessary
unworthy	vade	valise	virtue	vociferous
volunteer	whence	whereas	windgalls	windmills
worth	worthily	wretched	wrist	younger
youth