Finding himself, however, better opposed than he expected, he resolved to follow his lounge, and close with me; accordingly, his sword entered my waistcoat, on the side of the breast bone, and, running up between my shirt and skin, appeared over my left shoulder.

I imagined that his weapon had perforated my lungs, and of consequence that the wound was mortal; therefore, determined not to die unrevenged, I seized his shell, which was close to my breast, before he could disentangle his point, and, keeping it fast with my left hand, shortened my own sword with my right, intending to run him through the heart; but he received the thrust in the left arm, which penetrated up to the shoulder blade.
Disappointed at this expectation, and afraid still that death would frustrate my revenge, I grappled with him, and, being much the stronger, threw him upon the ground, where I wrested his sword out of his hand, and, so great was my confusion, that instead of turning the point upon him, struck out three of his foreteeth with the hilt.

In the meantime, our servants, seeing us fall, ran up to separate and assist us; but before their approach I was upon my feet, and had discovered that my supposed mortal wound was only a slight scratch.

The knowledge of my own safety disarmed me of a good deal of my resentment, and I began to inquire with soma concern into the situation of my antagonist, who remained on the ground bleeding plentifully at his mouth and arm.

I helped his footman to raise him, and, having bound up his wound with my handkerchief, assured it was not dangerous; I likewise restored his sword, and offered to support him to his house.