replied not; I was more hot and hasty. The guests appeared to
delight in our dispute. None except Mascari, whom we pushed aside
and disdained to hear, strove to conciliate; some took one side,
some another. The issue may be well foreseen. Swords were drawn.
I had left mine in the ante room; Zicci offered me his own,--I
seized it eagerly. There might be some six or eight persons
engaged in a strange and confused kind of melee, but the Prince and
myself only sought each other. The noise around us, the confusion
of the guests, the cries of the musicians, the clash of our own
swords, only served to stimulate our unhappy fury. We feared to be
interrupted by the attendants and fought like madmen, without skill
or method. I thrust and parried mechanically, blind and frantic as
if a demon had entered into me, till I saw the Prince stretched at
my feet, bathed in his blood, and Zicci bending over him and
whispering in his ear. The sight cooled us all; the strife ceased.
We gathered in shame, remorse, and horror round our ill-fated host;
but it was too late, his eyes rolled fearfully in his head, and
still he struggled to release himself from Zicci's arms, who
continued to whisper (I trust divine comfort) in his ear. I have
seen men die, but, never one who wore such horror on his
countenance. At last all was over; Zicci rose from the corpse, and
taking, with great composure, his sword from my hand,--"Ye are
witnesses, gentlemen," said he, calmly, "that the Prince brought
his fate upon himself. The last of that illustrious house has
perished in a brawl."

I saw no more of Zicci. I hastened to the French ambassador to
narrate the event and abide the issue. I am grateful to the
Neapolitan government and to the illustrious heir of the
unfortunate nobleman for the lenient and generous, yet just,