I will pick a quarrel with your enemy, and if he dares to raise a finger against me, he is a dead man." "Impossible; he is of noble birth." "And if I insulted him, his valets would fall upon me and beat me." "That is true.

There is but one way, Julio; I will tell you where you can stab him at night without the least danger." "I?
shall I treacherously kill your enemy?
This gentleman has never injured me.

Since how long has it been the custom for valets to avenge the grievances of their masters?
It is your own affair, signor." "You value the life of a man as little as a farthing, you said," replied Simon Turchi, with bitter irony; "and now you allege the most puerile reasons as excuses.

You are a coward, Julio." "I am not; but I do not choose to lie in wait and stab a man in the dark." "That is a feint, a subterfuge, to conceal your cowardice." "Since it is so simple and easy, why do you not deal the blow yourself, signor ?" The scar on Simon Turchi's face became of a livid white; his whole frame trembled with rage; but by a strong effort he controlled his emotion, and after a few moments he said, with a contemptuous smile upon his lips: "Four years ago I took you into my service through pity; I have paid you well, excused all your faults, your intoxication, your passion for gambling; I have not dismissed you, although you have deserved it a hundred times; and now, when for the first time you can be useful to me, you have not the courage.

I wished to try you.