_Concini_.--Would I could chain yours to the pavement, that I might be
sure of my mark!

_Borgia_.--Agree that the first who is wounded shall inform the other.

_Concini_.--Yes, for we should not see the blood. I swear it by the
thirst I feel for yours.--But not that the affair should end there.

_Borgia_.--No, only to begin again with more spirit.

_Concini_--To continue till we can lift the sword no longer.

_Borgia_.--Till the death of one or other of us.

_Concini_--I see you not. Are you in front of me?

_Borgia_.--Yes, wretch! Parry that thrust. Has it sped?

_Concini_.--No; take that in return.

_Borgia_.--I am untouched.

_Concini_.--What, still? Oh! would I could but see thy hateful visage.
(_They continue to fight desperately, but without touching each other.
Both rest for a little_.)

_Borgia_.--Have you a cuirass on, Concini?

_Concini_.--I had, but I left it with your wife in her chamber.