No gentleman, sir, can suffer such language; and I insist upon satisfaction.—And accordingly my champion drew his sword. His antagonist, looking on him with ineffable contempt, answered he would take some proper opportunity to cane him as he deserved.
I own I was amazed. I reasoned a short time with myself, and concluded the person was mistaken; for that it was impossible for any man to counterfeit so much ease, or behave with so much propriety, who was not a gentleman. I therefore thought proper to interfere, and told the intruder that, having given an insult, he ought not to be afraid of giving satisfaction—
And pray, sir, said he, who are you?
A gentleman, sir, answered I—
Yes. As good a one as your companion, I suppose—
You know, Fairfax, it is not customary with me to suffer insolence to triumph unchastised, and I ordered him immediately to draw.
What, sir, in this place, said he? Follow me, if you have any valour to spare.
His spirit pleased me, and I followed. I know not what became of the fellow, whose cause I had espoused; for I saw him no more.
My antagonist led me across the rue St. Honoré, to a place which I suppose you know, called the Elysian Fields. It began to be late, and I am told there is danger in passing the precincts of the guard. I apprehended a conspiracy, and at last refused to proceed any farther. Finding me obstinate he drew, but said we should be interrupted.
He was no false prophet; for we had not made half a dozen passes before a youth, whom from his boots and appearance I supposed to be English, came running and vociferating—Forbear! I was not quite certain that his appearance might not be artifice; I therefore accosted him in English, in which language he very readily replied. He was quite a sturdy, dauntless gentleman; for, though our swords were drawn, and both of us sufficiently angry, he resolutely placed himself between us, declaring we should not fight; and that, if we went farther, he would follow.