When Athos tells d’Artagnan to go and amuse himself with Milady, little does Athos realize that he is telling d’Artagnan to amuse himself with the woman whom he once married—the woman whom he believes he murdered. This coincidence is, of course, one of the romantic ironies of this loose and seemingly rambling novel, but a novel which is nevertheless well-plotted. One would have thought that d’Artagnan would have recognized the name “Lord de Winter” since he had heard from Buckingham that it was “Lady de Winter” who cut off the diamond tags—but Dumas explains this puzzling detail by having d’Artagnan admit that de Winter’s English name is so strange-sounding that he can’t even pronounce it. Ultimately, all of these unlikely coincidences—that is, the accidental sighting in the church, the inadvertent interception of Milady’s note to Count de Wardes, the duel with Milady’s brother-in-law, and d’Artagnan’s sparing his life—prepare us for the actual introduction of d’Artagnan to the beautiful Lady de Winter herself, the infamous Milady.
Chapter 31 presents another exciting duel scene, the type of scene that makes this novel a favorite of Hollywood filmmakers. Here, it is worth noting that the only Englishman killed is Athos’s opponent; Athos, remember, confided his real name and social status to the Englishman. Athos’s secret is so personal at this point in the novel that it is necessary that Athos kill the Englishman to make sure that his secret will not be revealed. Thus, for the present, Athos’s real identity continues to be a secret, and his origins and background become even more intriguing.
Chapter 32 presents an entertaining interlude. It is an established comic device to pit an extreme miser (Madame Coquenard) against an extreme libertine and spendthrift (Porthos). We have continually seen that Porthos puts great emphasis on fine and delicate foods prepared to perfection. In earlier chapters, Porthos was the one who suggested spending money on good meals. Earlier too, he sold his beautiful English horse so that he could enjoy an elegant repast. Therefore, when we now see the finicky Porthos being subjected to watery soup, the wing of a scrawny chicken, inedible green beans, undrinkable wine, and a dessert that clogs the throat—all for the sake of getting Madame Coquenard to provide new musketeer equipment. This is an extremely comic situation from an author who is not particularly known for his comic touch. Dumas even satirically compares Madame Coquenard to Moliere’s famous character Harpagon in The Miser, but points out that Madame Coquenard lived many years before Moliere created his now-archetypal skinflint.
In Chapter 33, Dumas begins building suspense for one of the novel’s most significant intrigues. We know that d’Artagnan has a great deal of pride and ambition, so it is not surprising that he realizes that Kitty is an exceptionally pretty mistress who can satisfy his immediate needs and whom he can use to revenge himself on Milady. This reasoning is prudent because without Kitty’s help, d’Artagnan could never effect his long-range plans. He desperately lusts for Milady—even though he knows of her hatred for him—and yet, at the same time, he is desperate for revenge. He knows what a monster Milady is, but he cannot rid himself of his passionate desire to possess her: “He knew her to be treacherous in matters of more importance, and he had no respect for her, yet he felt an uncontrollable passion for this woman boiling in his veins—passion drunk with contempt but passion and desire nevertheless.” Throughout d’Artagnan’s relationship with Milady, we should be aware of Dumas’s use of the modern-day love/hate dichotomy.
