As e'er thou didst upon Carrara's blocks.

[Arnold disarms and wounds Cellini, hit slightly: the latter draws a pistol, and fires; then retires, and disappears through the portico.

Cæs. How farest thou? Thou hast a taste, methinks,

Of red Bellona's banquet.

Arn. (staggers).‍'Tis a scratch.

Lend me thy scarf. He shall not 'scape me thus.

Cæs. Where is it?

Arn.‍In the shoulder, not the sword arm—

And that's enough. I am thirsty: would I had

A helm of water!