I am about to fight you because I do not like you,--because you have wounded me in ridiculing a certain devotional regard I have entertained, and one which I acknowledge that, at this moment, I still retain, and for which I would very willingly die.

You are a bad and heartless man, M.de Wardes, and I will do my very utmost to take your life; for I feel assured that, if you survive this engagement, you will, in the future, work great mischief towards my friends.

That is all I have to remark, M.de Wardes," concluded Buckingham as he saluted him.
"And I, my lord, have only this to reply to you: I have not disliked you hitherto, but, since you give me such a character, I hate you, and will do all I possibly can to kill you;" and De Wardes saluted Buckingham.
Their swords crossed at the same moment, like two flashes of lightning on a dark night.

The swords seemed to seek each other, guessed their position, and met.

Both were practiced swordsmen, and the earlier passes were without any result.