Again! again!
[Simone disarms Guido]
My gentle Lord, you see that I was right
My sword is better tempered, finer steel,
But let us match our daggers.

BIANCA [to Guido]
Kill him! kill him!

SIMONE. Put out the torch, Bianca.

[Bianca puts out torch.]

Now, my good Lord,
Now to the death of one, or both of us,
Or all three it may be. [They fight.]

There and there.
Ah, devil! do I hold thee in my grip?
[Simone overpowers Guido and throws him down over table.]

GUIDO. Fool! take your strangling fingers from my throat.
I am my father's only son; the State
Has but one heir, and that false enemy France
Waits for the ending of my father's line
To fall upon our city.

SIMONE. Hush! your father
When he is childless will be happier.