Do you know, Monsieur d'Artagnan, that if the king did not happen to be under my roof, I would take this candle, go straight to the dome, and set fire to a couple of huge chests of fusees and fireworks which are in reserve there, and would reduce my palace to ashes." "Bah!" said the musketeer, negligently.

"At all events, you would not be able to burn the gardens, and that is the finest feature of the place." "And yet," resumed Fouquet, thoughtfully, "what was I saying?
Great heavens! burn Vaux! destroy my palace! But Vaux is not mine; these wonderful creations are, it is true, the property, as far as sense of enjoyment goes, of the man who has paid for them; but as far as duration is concerned, they belong to those who created them.

Vaux belongs to Lebrun, to Lenotre, to Pelisson, to Levau, to La Fontaine, to Moliere; Vaux belongs to posterity, in fact.

You see, Monsieur d'Artagnan, that my very house has ceased to be my own." "That is all well and good," said D'Artagnan; "the idea is agreeable enough, and I recognize M.Fouquet himself in it.

That idea, indeed, makes me forget that poor fellow Broussel altogether; and I now fail to recognize in you the whining complaints of that old Frondeur.