D'Artagnan himself was moved by them.

Athos did not even turn his head.
To grief succeeded rage.

The host armed himself with a spit, and rushed into the chamber occupied by the two friends.
"Some wine!" said Athos, on perceiving the host.
"Some wine!" cried the stupefied host, "some wine?
Why you have drunk more than a hundred pistoles' worth! I am a ruined man, lost, destroyed!" "Bah," said Athos, "we were always dry." "If you had been contented with drinking, well and good; but you have broken all the bottles." "You pushed me upon a heap which rolled down.

That was your fault." "All my oil is lost!" "Oil is a sovereign balm for wounds; and my poor Grimaud here was obliged to dress those you had inflicted on him." "All my sausages are gnawed!" "There is an enormous quantity of rats in that cellar." "You shall pay me for all this," cried the exasperated host.
"Triple ass!" said Athos, rising; but he sank down again immediately.

He had tried his strength to the utmost.