"All the same, he was a fine fencer; nor has my hand forgotten its cunning! My arm is as true, my vision as keen, as ever.....

Youth and age are fables.

Am I not a god?
Are we not both gods?
If anyone could see us now.

There are women who would pay a high price for the spectacle!" The blades bent, the points sparkled; at each contact the rapiers sang softly in the morning air.

"A fight?
No, a fencing match! Why this look of horror, Marcolina?
Are we not both worthy of your love?
He is but a youngster; I am Casanova!" Lorenzi sank to the ground, thrust through the heart.