To what lengths would he not go for her sake?
Sure of winning her love, yes, he would become great, rise purified from the slough of loose living.

He had never killed a man dishonorably; he had won his duels by strength and dexterity alone.
He had never taken an advantage of a weakling; for many a man had insulted him and still walked the earth, suffering only the slight inconvenience of a bandaged arm or a tender cheek, and a fortnight or so in bed.

Conde had once said of him that there was not a more courageous man in France; but he could not escape recalling Conde's afterthought: that drink and reckless temper had kept him where he was.
There was in him a vein of madness which often burst forth in a blind fury.

It had come upon him in battle, and he had awakened many a time to learn that he had been the hero of an exploit.

He was not a boaster; he was not a broken soldier.