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.