tailieunhanh - THE MAN IN THE IRON MASK ALEXANDRE DUMAS CHAPTER 51

THE MAN IN THE IRON MASK ALEXANDRE DUMAS CHAPTER 51 Đây là một tác phẩm anh ngữ nổi tiếng với những từ vựng nâng cao chuyên ngành văn chương. Nhằm giúp các bạn yêu thich tiếng anh luyện tập và củng cố thêm kỹ năng đọc tiếng anh | THE MAN IN THE IRON MASK ALEXANDRE DUMAS CHAPTER 51 The Epitaph of Porthos Aramis silent icy trembling like a timid child arose shivering from the stone. A Christian does not walk upon tombs. But though capable of standing he was not capable of walking. It might be said that something of Porthos dead had just died within him. His Bretons surrounded him Aramis yielded to their kind exertions and the three sailors lifting him up carried him into the canoe. Then having laid him down upon the bench near the tiller they took to their oars preferring to get off by rowing rather than to hoist a sail which might betray them. Of all that levelled surface of the ancient grotto of Locmaria of all that flattened shore one single little hillock attracted their eyes. Aramis never removed his from it and at a distance out in the sea in proportion as the shore receded the menacing and proud mass of rock seemed to draw itself up as formerly Porthos used to do and raise a smiling and invincible head towards heaven - like that of the honest and valiant friend the strongest of the four and yet the first dead. Strange destiny of these men of brass The most simple of heart allied to the most crafty strength of body guided by subtlety of mind and in the decisive moment when strength alone could save mind and body a stone a rock a vile and material weight triumphed over strength and falling upon the body drove out the mind. Worthy Porthos born to help other men always ready to sacrifice himself for the safety of the weak as if God had given him strength only for that purpose. In dying he thought he was only carrying out the conditions of his compact with Aramis - a compact however which Aramis alone had drawn up and which Porthos had known only to suffer by its terrible solidarity. Noble Porthos of what good are the châteaux filled with sumptuous furniture the forests abounding in game the lakes teeming with fish the cellars gorged with wealth Of what good are the lackeys in brilliant .