x of orvietan, some pieces of
which she hastened to swallow, while another lady gave her a glass of
water; but at the instant when she was lifting it to her mouth, the
chevalier broke it between her teeth, and one of the pieces of glass cut
her lips. At this, all the women would have flung themselves upon the
chevalier; but the marquise, fearing that he would only become more
enraged, and hoping to disarm him, asked, on the contrary, that she
might be left alone with him: all the company, yielding to her desire,
passed into the next room; this was what the chevalier, on his part,
too, asked.

Scarcely were they alone, when the marquise, joining her hands, knelt
to him and said in the gentlest and most appealing voice that it was
possible to use, "Chevalier, my dear brother, will you not have pity
upon me, who have always had so much affection for you, and who, even
now, would give my blood for your service? You know that the things I
am saying are not merely empty words; and yet how is it you are treating
me, though I have not deserved it? And what will everyone say to such
dealings? Ah, brother, what a great unhappiness is mine, to have been so
cruelly treated by you! And yet--yes, brother--if you will deign to have
pity on me and to save my life, I swear, by my hope of heaven, to keep
no remembrance of what has happened; and to consider you always as my
protector and my friend."

All at once the marquise rose with a great cry and clasped her hand to
her right side. While she was speaking, and before she perceived what he
was doing, the chevalier had drawn his sword, which was very short, and
using it as a dagger, had struck her in the breast; this first blow was
followed by a second, which came in contact with the shoulder blade,
and so was prevented from going farther. At these two blows the marquise
rushed towards the door, of the room into which the ladies had retired,
crying, "Help! He is killing me!"

But during the time that she took to cross the room the chevalier
stabbed her five times in the back with his sword, and would no doubt
have done more, if at the last blow his sword had not broken; indeed,
he had struck with such force that the fragment remained embedded in her
shoulder, and the marquise fell forward on the floor, in a pool of her
blood, which was flowing all round her and spreading through the room.

The chevalier thought he had killed her, and hearing the women running
to her assistance, he ru