Character: Athos. Page 1

- Go to Spain, England, wherever they want for all I care, but if you ever appear in Paris, I'll kill you. Without delay.
- You know we both will not have peace while we're alive.

- Come on, it's over. On your knees. You have something to say?
- Come on, finish it! [Milady points to the scar from hanging]
- No need to do it.
- Let it will engage the authorities, Athos.
- I did this to her. Her sins on my conscience.
- You must kneel. Now kill me, only this time better.

- Come on, Anna, you've brought enough pain.
And you were telling me about the pain!?

- I still won - Athos is dead! [My lady sees Athos] I should have known...
- It's amazing what can be achieved with the help of the acting and the bladder of pig's blood.
- Managed to enjoy the sweet revenge?
- Long. And then a strange thing happened - a world without you is empty...

- How was my funeral?
- Captain says a lot about you good things.
- Porthos even let a tear.
- Sorry I missed it.

- How's it going?
- All right, how can it ever be well in this situation.
- If it's any consolation, the Reverend mother in the next room praying for our immortal souls.
- I'm more worried about my mortal body.

- What do you do for the cardinal?
- I'm a soldier, like you. Maybe we're not so different.

Every soldier has an Achilles heel. Only controlling it - you'll be saved.

- Am I right? In terms of your face internal sorrow?
- We all have secrets and secret sorrow, the Countess. Let me keep your to yourself.

Three on one is, in your opinion, honestly?
- We were not going to kill him.
- Here is how?
Next time you must tell.

This war is sooner or later going to end and I foresee all that awaits each of us: Aramis leave this vain world, become the Abbot.
Oh, Yes, sir. The world is a tomb.
Porthos returns home, marries, his wife will give him money on Sundays and bear him, by the way, fourteen children!
- Small, tidy, charming Portocolom.
D'artagnan becomes a Marshal, of course, and would retire, before committing a lot of feats.
- Why not? But you, dear Athos?
- And I... and I live in a small house in Roussillon.
- So, therefore, we never meet together?
- See you, my friends, will meet again!
- When?
- Twenty years later.
- Maybe ten?
- Or three or four centuries!

- And we, in turn, to Your Eminence did not consider us cowards and deserters, to celebrate this event, having had Breakfast on the mind and all, you and the enemy, in the Bastion Saint-Gervais and hang on there for one hour, to the minute, as if the enemy we did not try to knock out.
- It's suicide.
They will kill us, that's for sure, unless we go over there.
- It is, but we still rather get killed, if we don't go there.

- We are happy because we are together.
- A lot of it!
- Yes, it very much, my dear D'artagnan. This may be the most expensive in the world.

Well, the count is no husband and not a widower - both in the pool and the end...