“’He has at this moment, in his house, the most enchanting singer in Naples,—­the celebrated Viola Pisani.  She is here, it is true, not by her own choice; he carried her hither by force, but he will pretend that she adores him.  Let us insist on his producing this secret treasure, and when she enters, the Duc de R—­ can have no doubt that his flatteries and attentions will charm the lady, and provoke all the jealous fears of our host.  It would be a fair revenge upon his imperious self-conceit.’

“This suggestion delighted me.  I hastened to the prince.  At that instant the musicians had just commenced; I waved my hand, ordered the music to stop, and, addressing the prince, who was standing in the centre of one of the gayest groups, complained of his want of hospitality in affording to us such poor proficients in the art, while he reserved for his own solace the lute and voice of the first performer in Naples.  I demanded, half-laughingly, half-seriously, that he should produce the Pisani.  My demand was received with shouts of applause by the rest.  We drowned the replies of our host with uproar, and would hear no denial.  ‘Gentlemen,’ at last said the prince, when he could obtain an audience, ’even were I to assent to your proposal, I could not induce the signora to present herself before an assemblage as riotous as they are noble.  You have too much chivalry to use compulsion with her, though the Duc de R—­forgets himself sufficiently to administer it to me.’

“I was stung by this taunt, however well deserved.  ‘Prince,’ said I, ’I have for the indelicacy of compulsion so illustrious an example that I cannot hesitate to pursue the path honoured by your own footsteps.  All Naples knows that the Pisani despises at once your gold and your love; that force alone could have brought her under your roof; and that you refuse to produce her, because you fear her complaints, and know enough of the chivalry your vanity sneers at to feel assured that the gentlemen of France are not more disposed to worship beauty than to defend it from wrong.’

“‘You speak well, sir,’ said Zanoni, gravely.  ’The prince dares not produce his prize!’

“The prince remained speechless for a few moments, as if with indignation.  At last he broke out into expressions the most injurious and insulting against Signor Zanoni and myself.  Zanoni replied not; I was more hot and hasty.  The guests appeared to delight in our dispute.  None, except Mascari, whom we pushed aside and disdained to hear, strove to conciliate; some took one side, some another.  The issue may be well foreseen.  Swords were called for and procured.  Two were offered me by one of the party.  I was about to choose one, when Zanoni placed in my hand the other, which, from its hilt, appeared of antiquated workmanship.  At the same moment, looking towards the prince, he said, smilingly, ’The duc takes your grandsire’s sword.  Prince, you are too brave a man for superstition;