The Jesuit raised his hands toward heaven, and the curate did the same.
“No; but pray grant me that it is acting with an ill grace to offer to the Lord only that with which we are perfectly disgusted! Don’t you think so, d’Artagnan?”
“I think so, indeed,” cried he.
The Jesuit and the curate quite started from their chairs.
“This is the point of departure; it is a syllogism. The world is not wanting in attractions. I quit the world; then I make a sacrifice. Now, the Scripture says positively, ‘Make a sacrifice unto the Lord.’ ”
“That is true,” said his antagonists.
“And then,” said Aramis, pinching his ear to make it red, as he rubbed his hands to make them white, “and then I made a certain rondeau upon it last year, which I showed to M. Voiture, and that great man paid me a thousand compliments.”
“A rondeau !” said the Jesuit, disdainfully.
“A rondeau!” said the curate, mechanically.
“Repeat it! Repeat it!” cried d’Artagnan; “it will make a little change.”
“Not so, for it is religious,” replied Aramis; “it is theology in verse.”
“The devil!” said d’Artagnan.
“Here it is,” said Aramis, with a little look of diffidence, which, however, was not exempt from a shade of hypocrisy:
Vous qui pleurez un passe plein de charmes, Et qui trainez des jours infortunes, Tous vos malheurs se