Friday, September 14, 2012

Epilogue


Summary
      Officially the end of the novel! On October 28, 1628, after a year of fighting, England surrenders and the French win the siege of La Rochelle. On December 23rd, King Louis enters the city, proud as can be. He is welcomed heartily by all of Paris. D’Artagnan then takes over the Musketeer regiment. Porthos leaves the service and marries Madame Coquenard; and now is quite rich. That is all fine and well, but again, I disapprove of Porthos and Madame Coquenard’s shallow, money-based relationship. What really makes the wedding excellent news is that dear Mousqueton’s dream finally comes true. All his young life, Mousqueton wanted to have a fancy uniform and drive a gilded carriage, and now he gets exactly that! One thing I appreciate about Porthos is his treatment of Mousqueton, who is awesome and deserves all the gilded carriages and uniforms he wants. 

     Aramis, true to his word for once, does become an abbe in a convent, and unfortunately and disappointingly does not stay in touch with any of the other Musketeers or servants. Bazin also gets his dream fulfilled though, which is nice – he becomes a Brother in a convent. Athos stays with d’Artagnan in the Musketeer regiment for five years, upon which he retires with Grimaud in a nice little Russian cottage that he inherited. I hope he never hurts a woman again, allows Grimaud to speak over there, and stays in his hilariously, zany, and peaceful mode! Rochefort and d’Artagnan duel a bunch of times, but eventually hug and become friends. Yep. I’m not exaggerating in the slightest. M. Bonacieux retires and lives off the cardinal’s money. He doesn’t care to find out what happened to his wife. And now, for the news you’ve all been waiting for….Planchet! Our lovely little Planchet becomes a sergeant in the Piedmont regiment! Ah Dumas, at least you wrote Planchet’s ending perfectly.

Reaction
     This is a very bittersweet ending! The Fearsome Four splitting up makes me quite sad, but I can hope that at least Athos, Porthos, and d’Artagnan still hang out regularly. The Hungry Quadruplets of Joy probably do hang out – they all seem to have a more stable friendship than the Fearsome Four anyways. However, the epilogue has its nice moments. All the servants are happy, which makes me glad, and all the ‘good guys’ have relatively pleasant lives.

     I’m a bit upset that Dumas decided to tell us M. Bonacieux’s fate while ignoring those of many other characters.  I mean, M. Bonacieux? Really? He is just so irrelevant at this point. 
Here is a list of characters whose fates I would rather hear about: 
  • Lord de Winter
  • Felton
  • Queen Anne
  • Kitty
  • The Comte de Wardes
  • The Duchesse de Chevreuse
  • M. de Treville
  • Laporte
  • Aramis’s cousin
  • Madame Bois-Tracy
  • dad’Artagnan
  • mom’Artagnan
  • horse’Artagnan
  • The Swiss man
  • The man in the red cloak
  • The groaning curator
  • Lubin
  • Bicarat
  • Jussac
  • Cahusac
  • Bernajoux
  • M. Seguir, keeper of the seals 

Anyone but M. Bonacieux. 

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Chapter 67: Conclusion


Summary
     Wow, time flies like an arrow (and fruit flies like a banana! Ha…ha.). It’s over! Last chapter, my lovelies. Well, there is an epilogue, but this is the last real chapter. It starts off with a melancholy tone. The Queen can hardly believe that the duke is dead and only Laporte’s arrival and story can convince her. She is devastated when she accepts the truth. The king, on the other hand, is overjoyed. Dingbat. He is not sensitive about it at all, and doesn’t even pretend to mourn. Poor, poor Queen Anne. I wish she could divorce him, pronto. The king is sad though, when he must return back to La Rochelle under the cardinal’s orders. The Fearsome Four are also lugubrious. They troop along silently, looking down and not joking with their companions. Athos, however, looks up every once in a while with a bitter smile. Creepy. So creepy. When they get to La Rochelle, guess who’s there to welcome them? My pal Rochefort! He greets d’Artagnan by name, quite cordially. Ha! I love this guy. He’s practically the only non-servant in this novel with a sense of humor. D’Artagnan starts to attack him, upon recognizing the letter thief, but Rochefort says that d’Artagnan must report to the cardinal, because he is under arrest. The Musketeers force Rochefort to leave, but not before cruelly implying that Milady isn’t available to talk to, and actually promising to go straight to the cardinal when they reach camp. Rochefort is concerned, and also heads back to camp to find out what happened to Milady.

     D’Artagnan then keeps his word and talks to the cardinal, who is outside his quarters waiting. The cardinal says that d’Artagnan has been accused of a lengthy list of crimes, including treachery. D’Artagnan derails the conversation by casually saying the Milady is dead and was branded with a fleur-de-lis. The cardinal is apparently a huge traitor, because after thinking about the whole situation for a while, he decides that Milady’s death is a positive development. He actually promotes d’Artagnan to a lieutenant in the Musketeers. Say what? D’Artagnan and the cardinal now part as allies, and he tells d’Artagnan to go make nice with Rochefort. Rochefort and d’Artagnan exchange stiff greetings but leave immediately. I don’t blame Rochefort for being angry – he must be quite distraught over his BFF’s death. D’Artagnan then proceeds to try offering his promotion to all of his comrades, but each one refuses. Athos says that it is ‘too much for Athos, but too little for the Comte de la Fere.’ Excuse me, but he does realize that he is speaking in third person about himself as if he is two people? Porthos says that M. Coquenard died during the La Rochelle campaign, so he will marry Madame Coquenard for her money. Porthos, alas – what have you become? Aramis refuses the offer, and says that he is going to really become an abbe this time. He sounds like a little kid: “No, I mean it! This time I’m really going to run away! *Cue violent sobbing.*” D’Artagnan then has no choice but to accept the promotion himself. He feels as if this accomplishment has been bittersweet though, and cries a bit. Athos comforts him in his odd, overdramatic way.   

Reaction
     Well, I feel a bit deprived! I can see that the epilogue is quite short, and I’m not sure how it will satisfy all my questions and all the plotlines. Firstly, I cannot believe that the Musketeers have switched allegiances to the cardinal’s side! What about poor Queen Anne? She will continue to be victimized by the cardinal. Also, what about the cardinal himself? Why in the world does he not ‘dispose of’ the Musketeers? Not that I want him to, but I supposed that they would have to fight a bit harder to reach safety. The implications of the cardinal’s change of heart make me kind of uncomfortable. It’s almost as if Dumas is saying that Milady’s influence made the cardinal a ‘bad guy’ and since she is dead, he is free of evil influences. This is unfair and unpleasantly reminiscent of the sexist ‘siren’ or ‘evil temptress lady’ characters – they seem to be blaming Milady for an awful lot. The splitting up of the Musketeers also makes me kind of sad. I hope they all visit often and stay friends. I also hope that the Hungry Quadruplets of Joy are happy and also stay friends. The loss of Rochefort and Milady’s beautiful friendship also is quite depressing. However, I am happy that all the heroes and most of the people we care about are alive, healthy, and relatively happy. 

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Chapter 66: Execution


Summary
     Yep. The title pretty much sums it up – they band together, tie Milady up, and kill her. It is the worst, most horrifyingly gruesome chapter I have read…ever? I just don’t understand. Why, Dumas?? Dumas, you make my soul weep. Milady killed Madame Bonacieux. I understand that – and as I said last chapter, she ought to be jailed for life and put on heavy guard. BUT – who are these pompous nitwits to judge someone’s life by themselves? And who do they think they are, ganging up on a tied up and terrified person like that? This is a painful, painful chapter, but I’ll try to blog it thoroughly. So they tie Milady up, and drag her out of the cabin. They force Grimaud and Mousqueton to drag Milady along to the river. Milady begs, threatens, and bribes the poor servants. They hesitate slightly – um probably because they are good people! – but Athos just makes the other two servants drag her along. 

     Milady is terrified, and calls them cowards for being ten men ganging up against a woman. Athos tells her that she is not a woman (wow, shut up Athos, you shouldn’t tell anyone that) and that she is a demon, so it is okay if they kill her. Right. The man in the red cloak – let’s call him Jigglypuff, shall we? – grabs her and begins carrying her to the river. Milady is frightened out of her mind, and asks in horror if they are going to drown her. She is pleading so heartrendingly that even d’Artagnan, who isn’t the most sensitive of men, is touched. Somehow, he is the only one (other than the Hungry Quadruplets of Joy; they are not mentioned for the rest of the chapter) who is disturbed by what they are doing, and sits down on a rock, his head buried in his hands. Milady sees his guilt and calls out to him, begging for help. Oh no, Milady begging is going to make me cry. D’Artagnan gets up to help her, but Athos (I’m starting to really dislike Athos here) steps in his way and draws his sword. He refuses to let anyone stop the killing. D’Artagnan, defeated, sinks down to his knees and begins to pray. 

     Before Jigglypuff does his deed of goriness, Athos, d’Artagnan, and Lord de Winter condescendingly pardon Milady. Athos’s pardon of course, is terrible and unfair. Does he realize how unreasonable he’s being? D’Artagnan’s pardon is the nicest, because he asks pardon himself for his “ungentlemanly” trick. It’s still pretty bad though. No d’Artagnan, you do not get to ask her pardon as you let her get murdered. Milady realizes that she going to die unless she can flee, and casts a quick and searching glance all around her to see if she can escape. She sees nothing that can save her. Jigglypuff grabs her and hauls her onto a boat in the river. Athos gives Jigglypuff some money in return, but Jigglypuff ‘nobly’ *snort* throws the money bag in the water. What a waste. I hate everyone. The boat with Jigglypuff and Milady begins to move away from the bank, and everyone watching is so overwhelmed by what is about to happen that they all fall to their knees. No. Get up. Get up and do something, you lousy sacks of snot. 

      Meanwhile, Milady, the wily little devil, has managed to untie her feet and leaps onto the opposite bank, about to escape. However, the bank is slippery and she falls to her knees. Despairing, she clasps her hands and prays to God. As she prays, that awful jerk of a Jigglypuff sneaks up behind her and chops off her head. The observers on the bank hear her cry out and then see her head fall. Jigglypuff then happily takes of his cloak and wraps Milady’s head *shudder* and body in it, and throws her corpse into the water. He calls out something about God but I’m too horrified to care about Jigglypuff. AND THEN DUMAS PROCEEDS TO GET HUNGRY AND TAKE A BREAK TO EAT SOME BREAD AND CHEESE AND WINE AND WHEN HE GETS BACK HE’S ALL SLEEPY FROM THE GOOD FOOD SO HE IS LIKE “SCREW IT” AND JUST SKIPS TO THREE DAYS LATER IN THE PLOT. Because that’s seriously the only explanation I have for the end of this chapter. Dumas, as I mentioned in caps lock rage mode, skips to three days later when the Fearsome Four are back in Paris. He doesn’t mention any guilt, any horror, anything about Lord de Winter, anything about Milady – he better revisit everyone’s reactions in the next chapter. He better.

Reaction
     I hardly know what to say. Again, I am absolutely appalled. The best, most fascinating, most complex character in the novel is dismissed as ‘evil’ and killed unceremoniously. The only modicum of joy I could glean from this chapter was the fact that the Hungry Quadruplets of Joy are not mentioned after Dumas says that they had to drag Milady to the riverbank. In my mind, they just left, unwilling to be bystanders to such nonsense. I hate Jigglypuff.

     The best line was the ending, where Dumas skips ahead. It’s so casual and awful that my jaw literally dropped open in horror, and then I began laughing hysterically because it’s so terrible. Enjoy:
“Three days afterward the four Musketeers were in Paris; they had not exceeded their leave of absence, and that same evening they went to pay their customary visit to M. de Treville.
‘Well, gentlemen,’ said the brave captain, ‘I hope you have been well amused during your excursion.’
‘Prodigiously,’ replied Athos in the name of himself and his comrades.”

PRODIGIOUSLY AMUSED?! Go sit in a corner and eat some paper, Athos.


Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Chapter 65: Trial


Summary
     Basically, this chapter consists of the four Musketeers, Lord de Winter, and the man in the red cloak – well mostly Athos and d’Artagnan, acting very creepy, freaking Milady out, capturing her, and ‘sentencing’ her to death. Uh-oh. The chapter begins with the traveling Musketeers, Lord de Winter, and the man in the red cloak reaching the other servants. Grimaud then takes them to Milady’s hideout. She is in a small cabin, sitting pensively in an armchair. They appear suddenly and stare menacingly at her. Athos literally smiles sinisterly. When Milady sees him smiling so, and looking at her through the window, she screams in horror. Everyone enters the cabin ominously. They hold a ‘trial’ where they take turns accusing her in a totally biased manner. She is rightly accused of murdering Madame Bonacieux, and then baselessly accused of murdering her second husband. They then claim that Felton’s murder of the duke, and Felton likely being sentenced to death, are her fault. Everyone shudders in horror, thinking of ‘poor’ Felton. Screw that noise. I thought we went over this, Dumas. Milady did not force Felton to murder the duke. She did not even ASK him to. He committed the deed of his own volition. Felton’s a big boy. He ought to be able to handle the consequences – as ought Milady – but at least Felton will get a fair trial! The procedure then gets about 1.6 times more disgusting when Athos suddenly steps up, all a-quiver with self-righteousness.

     Trembling, Athos tells everyone how he married Milady and thought he loved her when he figured out that *GASP* she once stole some pots! So, quite naturally, he tried to kill her. And no one in the room seems to realize how messed up that is. Milady demands proof, and the man in the red cloak steps forward. He finally unveils himself. Good grief – finally done with all the histrionics! He is her old executioner. The executioner then dramatically recounts how Milady had ‘seduced’ a priest and how he had stolen some sacred pots so they could run away and live together. They were caught, and the man who stole the pots was branded. And…he also was the executioner’s brother. Of course. The executioner also decided to brand Milady, because he sucks like that. Then, she abandoned the priest and married Athos. The priest hung himself with guilt, because the executioner was imprisoned in his place when Milady and the priest fled. Okay. The executioner demands that Milady die. Everyone else agrees in creepy voices. I hate everyone in this room. Except the Hungry Quadruplets of Joy – I must give all of them kudos on not participating in this disgrace.

Reaction
     What. The. Fresh. Heck. Is. This. Plotline. I honestly don’t know – did Dumas just give up or something? Wasn’t there a better way to resolve this other than making me hate all the main ‘good guys?’ I can hardly believe the crazy double standards they have. Seriously – the only legitimate crime that Milady has committed and needs to be held accountable for is the poisoning of Madame Bonacieux. That is a second-degree murder, since it was not premeditated. I looked it up, and in the modern day United States, she would get life imprisonment. Sounds fair to me – she certainly ought to be put in jail so she can’t hurt anyone else! But death without a proper trial? Aw, no way. And what was up with the man in the red cloak? He literally added nothing to the story. His story just makes me feel the unfairness even more, because Milady didn’t even actually *steal* the pots, that dumb-butt priest did. And they all used way too much drama and suspense and silliness for my liking. For goodness sakes, they literally used creepy voices and unnerving repetition of the death sentence when sentencing Milady. I couldn’t say I had a favorite line – the whole chapter was terrifying, but this part best shows how sinister everyone was acting:

“‘Monsieur d'Artagnan,’ said Athos, ‘what is the penalty you demand against this woman?’
‘The punishment of death,’ replied d'Artagnan.
‘My Lord de Winter,’ continued Athos, ‘what is the penalty you demand against this woman?’
‘The punishment of death,’ replied Lord de Winter.
‘Messieurs Porthos and Aramis,’ repeated Athos, ‘you who are her judges, what is the sentence you pronounce upon this woman?’
‘The punishment of death,’ replied the Musketeers, in a hollow voice.
Milady uttered a frightful shriek, and dragged herself along several paces upon her knees toward her judges.
Athos stretched out his hand toward her.
"Charlotte Backson, Comtesse de la Fere, Milady de Winter,’ said he, ’your crimes have wearied men on earth and God in heaven. If you know a prayer, say it--for you are condemned, and you shall die.’”

Sounds like a horror story, right?

Chapter 64: The Man in the Red Cloak


Summary
     Athos summons the servants, and gives them some instructions. Hmm, I should make a name for the group of servants. They deserve a good one. How about the Hungry Quadruplets of Joy? Yes, that’ll do nicely. So Athos tells the Hungry Quadruplets of Joy that they are to each leave for Armentieres by a different route, and seek Milady. They have an advantage since they know Milady, but she does not know them. Ha! I knew Milady would regret omitting the servants in her list of threats! Planchet is to use the route that Rochefort’s servant took by carriage, because he’s cool like that. If they find Milady, three of them will guard her, and the other will go back, inform the Fearsome Four, and lead them to Milady. The Hungry Quadruplets of Joy head off on their mission dutifully. Athos also leaves the hotel himself. It is about 10 o’clock in the evening. Then, Athos proceeds to say a few words to local people, watch them overdramatically recoil in terror, and be pointed a certain direction. After a while of these tedious locals helping him out, Athos reaches his destination. The man-who-Dumas-will-not-name takes Athos into an eerie little lab with jars and experiments and lizards, and invites him to take a look. He’s currently assembling a skeleton. Wow, this is getting weird.  The man is pale, with black hair and a black beard. Athos is impatient with the lab equipment, and wants to talk of other things. Athos then requests something of the man-who-Dumas-will-not-name. He follows the local custom of recoiling in fear, but eventually acquiesces. Athos shows him a piece of paper with two lines and a seal on it, and then goes home.

     In the morning, d’Artagnan demands to know what they are going to do. Athos says that they must wait. Presently, Madame Bonacieux’s funeral takes place. It is a solemn affair, but it has a nice choir.  D’Artagnan is feeling pretty blue during the burial ceremony, and tries to catch Athos’s eye for comfort. But Athos is gone! He left to continue his mission. Wow, rude. Athos follows Milady’s footsteps out of the garden, and finds where she entered the carriage. His suspicions confirmed, he heads back to the hotel. There, he finds Planchet impatiently waiting for him. Planchet, too, had followed Milady’s footsteps, but had gone even further than Athos. He went to an inn and pretended to be an out-of-work servant, and managed to find out that a lady had arrived shortly before, saying that she would stay for a while. So, basically, the Hungry Quadruplets of Joy have found Milady. In the evening, Athos fetches the mysterious man, who is wearing a red cloak. The whole party – including Lord de Winter and excluding Grimaud, Mousqueton, and Bazin, who are guarding Milady’s location – is present. Everyone is a bit confused about Athos’s new friend, but they don’t question it. Then, Planchet begins to lead the way to Milady’s hideout.

Reaction
     I adore how far the Hungry Quadruplets of Joy have come. They used to be minor characters, but now they have basically become some of the most indispensible people on the royalist side. Planchet, especially, has come a long way. From a hobo, “making rings and splashing in the water” under a bridge, to a veritable hero! The man in the red cloak being kept a secret from everyone is kind of silly though – why, does Athos want a big dramatic reveal or something? Also, Madame Bonacieux’s funeral would have been sadder if Dumas actually tried to focus on her for even a second. Like I said, she’s become a plot point – the focus was never on her.

     My favorite line is the melodramatic introduction of the man in the red cloak: “The man whom Athos had come so far to seek, and whom he had found with so much trouble, introduced him into his laboratory, where he was engaged in fastening together with iron wire the dry bones of a skeleton. All the frame was adjusted except the head, which lay on the table.” Uh…is this The Three Musketeers or a cannibal thriller mystery novel?!

Sunday, September 9, 2012

Chapter 63: The Drop of Water


Summary
     Now this chapter is fairly horrific. My fears are coming true! Milady starts off by conspiratorially telling Madame Bonacieux that Rochefort is only pretending to be a messenger from the cardinal, and is actually her brother. To back this up, she takes Madame Bonacieux to the window and calls out “adieu, brother!” to Rochefort as he is galloping away. He sees the pair of women and without hesitation waves cheerily to Milady. Milady then is easily able to convince the oddly oblivious Madame Bonacieux that she ought to go with Milady when her ‘brother’s’ carriage comes to fetch her. Milady then excuses herself to pace around in the garden and finalize her plans. After an hour, Madame Bonacieux calls her. They dine together, so that they will be able to flee anytime they need to. And indeed, that time comes soon. They hear hoof beats. Madame Bonacieux is again suddenly weak and helpless, and is paralyzed with terror. Milady goes to check who is coming, and to her dismay, it is the Fearsome Four! She tells Madame Bonacieux that the cardinal’s guards had arrived and that they must flee, but Madame Bonacieux can barely walk. Milady tries to lift her and drag her, but the Musketeers are almost at the door! So, she does something terrible. She unscrews the top of a ring she is wearing, and pours some red powder into a wine glass. She then tells Madame Bonacieux to drink it for strength. The uncharacteristically meek woman does as told without questions. Milady mutters that she did not want to get revenge this way, but she must do what she can. She then leaves quickly from the back door and escapes through her planned route.

     The Fearsome Four sprint into the room, and find Madame Bonacieux alone. She and d’Artagnan have a nice moment, but then the effects of the poison start to work and Madame Bonacieux is pale and dying in agony. Oh no. She mentions her companion, who had ‘mistaken’ them for the cardinal’s guards. All of them desperately ask her who her companion was, and she finally is able to say that her name was Lady de Winter. Madame Bonacieux, weak and dizzy, calls for help. Then, in great pain, she kisses d’Artagnan and then sighs. She is dead. D’Artagnan is devastated and begins to sob over her body. Porthos and Aramis try to revive her, but to no avail. D’Artagnan faints. Suddenly, Lord de Winter shows up. He had set sail immediately after Milady, and had been relentlessly trying to find her. Now he is a minute too late, again. This is so sad! He sternly asks the Musketeers if both Madame Bonacieux and d’Artagnan are dead. They explain that d’Artagnan has only fainted (I’m not sure if this part was meant to be funny, but it was). Athos hugs d’Artagnan when he comes to, and swears revenge on Milady. Athos suddenly has taken charge. He looks as if he has a plan. He puts his companions up in a hotel, and says that they need time to grieve and to sleep. He then takes the paper with ‘Armentieres’ written on it, and tells everyone that as the husband of Milady, it is his turn to act.

Reaction
     I…have mixed feelings about this chapter. Very mixed. On one hand, I, like d’Artagnan, am devastated that Madame Bonacieux is dead. But I am devastated for more reasons than he is. I am highly upset that she was turned into a weak, helpless kitten in the chapters before her death. I refuse to believe that an intelligent and successful spy would be so gullible. Worse was the way that everyone acted after her death. They all called her an angel, and Dumas’s narration implies that she was pure, chaste, and gentle. This irritates me. The Madame Bonacieux I know was strong, spirited, and knew what she wanted. But the more egregious crime in my opinion is that now she has turned into a plot point. Do you see what Dumas has done? He warped Madame Bonacieux’s character as I described in order to make Milady look evil, and to give d’Artagnan and Athos a motive for revenge on Milady. This is awful to me, especially since I told you all in my rant how much I am fascinated by Milady’s character. Simplifying her character into ‘evil lady’ does not help anyone. And, of course, I liked the burgeoning character of Madame Bonacieux, and I am distressed that we will not get to learn more about her and see her develop. I also hate that everyone, including Milady talks about Madame Bonacieux and d’Artagnan as if they are lovers and d’Artagnan loves her more than life. I mean, her dying kiss was their first kiss! And d’Artagnan was very disloyal to her repeatedly. Milady ought to know that!

     My favorite line is Athos randomly being selfish and overdramatic while d’Artagnan is weeping: “‘Weep,’ said Athos, ‘weep, heart full of love, youth, and life! Alas, would I could weep like you!’” No comment.  Just enjoy the insanity.  

Chapter 62: Two Varieties of Demons



Summary
          This chapter was super fun to blog, because I got a little help from my new friend, the Comte de Rochefort! The title refers to, of course, the charming Milady and aforementioned Rochefort. The pair makes pleasantries and then discusses their various crimes casually, as if talking about what they had for breakfast. Rochefort praises Milady for pretending to be Madame Bonacieux’s friend, and they gossip condescendingly about the oddly gullible woman. They also talk about the Fearsome Four. Milady says that the only dangerous ones out of the four are Athos and d’Artagnan. She says that Porthos is stupid and she knows about Aramis’s mistress, so she has blackmail material. I notice that she omitted their servants. Not wise, Milady. After some discussion about transportation, they decide to meet at Armentieres. Amusingly, Rochefort just cannot remember the place’s name. He promises to repeat it in his head until he memorizes it, but both are kind of afraid that he will forget, so Milady writes the name on a piece of paper. She is dubious about doing so, but Rochefort insists. Rochefort sticks it in his hat lining carefully. He then inquires how she knows this place so well. Milady explains that she was brought up near the convent. Wow, d’Artagnan always suspected that she was secretly French! I guess he was right. Rochefort then makes sure he got all the important points of their talk by reviewing it out loud. Heh, he seems to have a terrible memory. 
He summarizes this chapter quite well. So without further ado:

Rochefort’s Summary
     “Buckingham dead or grievously wounded; your conversation with the cardinal overheard by the four Musketeers; Lord de Winter warned of your arrival at Portsmouth; d'Artagnan and Athos to the Bastille; Aramis the lover of Madame de Chevreuse; Porthos an ass; Madame Bonacieux found again; to send you the chaise as soon as possible; to place my lackey at your disposal; to make you out a victim of the cardinal in order that the abbess may entertain no suspicion; Armentieres, on the banks of the Lys. Is that all, then?”

(Back to mine!)

     Not bad, Rochefort, are you trying to replace me?! Milady reminds him that he forgot to ask her if she has money. He asks her how much she needs. Milady humorously demands all that is in his pockets. He complies and she fills her purse. They then bid each other farewell, and Rochefort rides away. 

Reaction
          This chapter was so simple, and may be dismissed as mere filler – except for the beautiful dialogue. It was so beautiful that I just want the rest of the novel to be Milady and Rochefort being spies and best friends and the servants also being spies and all of them going on secret missions together for justice and yeah, I really want a spin-off novel. Basically, without Dumas saying so directly we can still see that Milady and Rochefort are pretty close and know each other well. They converse easily and without drama or romance, and it’s very refreshing. They sound like good friends. I wish we’d seen more of them before - their dialogue is light-hearted and fun! With great chapters, I often have a hard time picking a favorite line, but I chose their farewell banter:

Milady: "Capital! Adieu, Chevalier."
Rochefort: "Adieu, Countess."
Milady: "Commend me to the cardinal."
Rochefort: "Commend me to Satan."
And then they smile at each other and part ways. This is the best friendship in the novel! They joke; they talk naturally! It’s great. 

Rochefort’s Reaction
     Geneyric likes our dialogue; our farewell was funny; there should be a spin-off novel. Is that all, then?

Yes Rochefort, that is all. You are so funny. Now leave.