The Three Musketeers Page #4

Lines like yours

might actually work there.

This is Paris.

I suggest you stick to swordplay.

In the battle of wits,

you, sir, are unarmed.

She's right, lad.

The ladies of Paris

are infinitely more complicated.

They have 1,000 ways of saying, "No,"

and only some of them mean, "Yes."

I hate to ruin the mood,

but they will be back.

And unless you wish to

fight an entire army.

Elsewhere.

So, now what?

Do we pick up where we left off?

I think there's been enough fighting

for one day.

Besides, any man who's an enemy

of Rochefort is a friend of mine.

Who's Rochefort?

Captain of the Cardinal's guards.

The right hand of the most powerful man

in France.

Rochefort is the most feared swordsman

in Europe.

You certainly know how to pick your fights.

Like I said, he insulted my horse.

You're reckless,

arrogant, impetuous,

probably be dead by sundown,

but I like you, lad.

- Where are you staying?

- No idea.

Ah! Do you have any money?

Well, good sir,

you and your fine steed

are welcome in our humble home.

For the time being.

That goes in there.

Come on.

What shall we drink to?

How about the King?

He's a child. Cardinal rules in all

but name, might as well drink to him.

To France.

We served it, fought for it and bled for it.

Look where it got us.

Friendship? Love?

Word of advice, boy.

Trust no one.

Must be something you still believe in.

This.

And this.

Anyone who tells you otherwise is either

a fool or trying to sell you something.

I know Athos may seem cold and unfriendly,

but don't let it fool you.

- Deep down...

- He really is cold and unfriendly.

What happened to him?

What happens to any man, a woman.

You know, I don't want to offend anybody,

but I thought you'd all be

a little bit more...heroic.

What my esteemed colleague

was trying to say, in his own way,

is that we are obsolete.

We're warriors,

but there's no war for us to fight.

And so we drink and brawl

and quarrel with the Cardinal's guards

and then we drink some more.

What we need is a great cause.

But there are no great causes left.

Which is why I keep telling you it's not

too late to do that priest thing again.

Beats working for the city.

Free booze at wakes and weddings.

And then there's the nuns.

You were a priest?

Until I realized being a man of God

and a man of the cloth

aren't always the same thing.

And yet, he still says prayers

for those he kills.

- Old habit.

- On the contrary.

The men I kill deserve to die.

But they also deserve peace.

After all, they must have believed

in something.

We all do. Even the worst of us.

I'll drink to that!

Planchet! More wine!

Planchet!

Sorry, sirs.

I'm afraid

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