Of all his friends, Athos was the eldest, and the least resembling him in appearance, in his tastes and sympathies.
Yet he entertained a marked preference for this gentleman.

The noble and distinguished air of Athos, those flashes of greatness which from time to time broke out from the shade in which he voluntarily kept himself, that unalterable equality of temper which made him the most pleasant companion in the world, that forced and cynical gaiety, that bravery which might have been termed blind if it had not been the result of the rarest coolness--such qualities attracted more than the esteem, more than the friendship of d'Artagnan; they attracted his admiration.
Indeed, when placed beside M.de Treville, the elegant and noble courtier, Athos in his most cheerful days might advantageously sustain a comparison.

He was of middle height; but his person was so admirably shaped and so well proportioned that more than once in his struggles with Porthos he had overcome the giant whose physical strength was proverbial among the Musketeers.

His head, with piercing eyes, a straight nose, a chin cut like that of Brutus, had altogether an indefinable character of grandeur and grace.

His hands, of which he took little care, were the despair of Aramis, who cultivated his with almond paste and perfumed oil.