At last, the Baron de Mittaud, brother of the one he had assassinated eight years previously, called him out: both parties were duly examined, although it was maintained that Mittaud wore a thin cuirass, painted flesh-colour, under his garments. Howbeit, the point of Vitaux’s sword was bent either upon this protection, or one of his ribs; finding that all his lounges and thrusts were of no avail, he had recourse to hacking and hewing, when in four well-applied cuts his adversary despatched him, without having had the “courtesy of offering him his life.” “Thus,” further says the historian, “died this brave Baron, the _Paragon_ of France, where he was as much esteemed as in Spain, Germany, Poland, and England; and every foreigner who came to court was most anxious to behold him: he was small in stature, but lofty in courage: his enemies pretended that he did not kill people ‘properly’ (_il ne tuait pas bien ses gens_), but had recourse to various stratagems; wherein,” says Brantôme, “it is the opinion of great captains, even Italians, who were always the best avengers in the world,--that stratagem might be encountered by stratagem, without any breach of honour.” Brantôme adds, “I have spoken enough of him; although I should immortalize him were it in my power, as much for his merits, as for the sincere friendship that existed between us!” The duel that most grieved the heart of Henry III. was that which occurred between his favourite _mignons_, Caylus and D’Entragues, who had fallen out about some fair ladies of the court. Riberac and Schomberg, a young German, were seconds to D’Entragues; Maugerin and Livaret were the seconds of Caylus. The parties met near the ramparts of the Porte St. Antoine, no one being present but three or four “poor persons, wretched witnesses of the valour of these worthy men.” The moment the principals had commenced, Riberac addressed Maugerin, saying, “Methinks that we had better endeavour to reconcile these gentlemen, rather than allow them to kill each other.” To which unworthy proposal the other replied, “Sir, I did not come here to string beads; I came here to fight!” “And with whom?” innocently asked Riberac; “since you are not concerned in this quarrel,--with whom?” “With you, to be sure,” was the laconic reply of Maugerin. “If that be the case,” added Riberac, “let us pray;” and, so saying, he drew his sword and dagger, and placing the hilts cross-ways, fell upon his knees to put up proper orisons: but Maugerin thought his doxology too prolix; and, swearing most irreligiously, told him “that he had prayed long enough.” Upon which they furiously attacked each other, until both fell dead.