s.

_The Boy_.--Ah! there is a man standing up.

_Borgia (turning the lantern which the child holds towards
Concini.)_--Concini!

_Concini_.--Borgia! (_Each raises his dagger, and seizes with the left
arm the right of his enemy. They remain motionless, and gazing at each
other. The children escape into the street and disappear_.)

_Concini_.--Let go my arm, and I will liberate yours.

_Borgia_.--What shall be my security?

_Concini_.--Those children whom you have with you.

_Borgia_.--I am labouring to save them. Your palace is on fire--your
wife is arrested--your fortune is wrecked--base, senseless adventurer!

_Concini_.--Have done--let go--let us fight!

_Borgia_ (_pushing him from him_.)--Back, then, and draw your sword.

_Concini_ (_draws_.)--Begin.

_Borgia_.--Remove those children--they would be in our way.

_Concini_.--They are gone.

_Borgia_.--Take these letters, assassin! I had promised to restore
them to you. (_He hands to Concini a black portfolio_.)

_Concini_.--I would have taken them from your body.

_Borgia_.--I have performed my promise--and now, ravisher! look to
yourself.

_Concini_.--Base seducer, defend _thyself_.

_Borgia_.--The night is dark, but I shall feel you by my hate: Plant
your foot against the wall, that you may not retreat.

_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.

_Borgia_.--Liar! (_He rushes on him with his sword. Their blades are
locked for a moment, and both are wounded_.)

_Concini_.--I feel no sword opposed to mine. Have I wounded you?

_Borgia_, (_leaning on his sword, and staunchi