"Go on, my friend, I am listening to you with admiration." "This Coquelin sketched my arm on the glass." "I beg your pardon--Poquelin." "What did I say, then ?" "You said Coquelin." "Ah! true.

This Poquelin, then, sketched my arm on the glass; but he took his time over it; he kept looking at me a good deal.

The fact is, that I must have been looking particularly handsome." "'Does it weary you ?' he asked.
"'A little,' I replied, bending a little in my hands, 'but I could hold out for an hour or so longer.' "'No, no, I will not allow it; the willing fellows will make it a duty to support your arms, as of old, men supported those of the prophet.' "'Very good,' I answered.
"'That will not be humiliating to you ?' "'My friend,' said I, 'there is, I think, a great difference between being supported and being measured.'" "The distinction is full of the soundest sense," interrupted D'Artagnan.
"Then," continued Porthos, "he made a sign: two lads approached; one supported my left arm, while the other, with infinite address, supported my right." "'Another, my man,' cried he.

A third approached.

'Support monsieur by the waist,' said he.