The Cid | Page 9

soon induced to acknowledge its fault.
_Don Fernando._ Don Sancho, be silent; and be warned that he who takes his part renders himself criminal.
_Don Sancho._ I obey, and am silent; but in pity, sire, [permit] two words in his defence.
_Don Fernando._ And what can you say?
_Don Sancho._ That a soul accustomed to noble actions cannot lower itself to apologies. It does not imagine any which can be expressed without _shame;_ and it is that word alone that the Count resists. He finds in his duty a little too much severity, and he would obey you if he had less heart. Command that his arm, trained in war's dangers, repair this injury at the point of the sword: he will give satisfaction, sire; and, come what may, until he has been made aware of your decision, here am I to answer for him.
_Don Fernando._ You fail [_lit._ you are losing] in respect; but I pardon youth, and I excuse enthusiasm in a young, courageous heart. A king, whose prudence has better objects in view [than such quarrels], is more sparing of the blood of his subjects. I watch over mine; my [watchful] care protects them, as the head takes care of the limbs which serve it. Thus your reasoning is not reasoning for me. You speak as a soldier--I must act as a king; and whatever others may wish to say, or he may presume to think, the Count will not part with [_lit._ cannot lose] his glory by obeying me. Besides, the insult affects myself: he has dishonored him whom I have made the instructor of my son. To impugn my choice is to challenge me, and to make an attempt upon the supreme power. Let us speak of it no more. And now, ten vessels of our old enemies have been seen to hoist their flags; near the mouth of the river they have dared to appear.
_Don Arias._ The Moors have by force [of arms] learned to know you, and, so often vanquished, they have lost heart to risk their lives [_lit._ themselves] any more against so great a conqueror.
_Don Fernando._ They will never, without a certain amount of jealousy, behold my sceptre, in spite of them, ruling over Andalusia; and this country, so beautiful, which they too long enjoyed, is always regarded by them with an envious eye. This is the sole reason which has caused us, for the last ten years, to place the Castilian throne in Seville, in order to watch them more closely, and, by more prompt action, immediately to overthrow whatever [design] they might undertake.
_Don Arias._ They know, at the cost of their noblest leaders [_lit._ most worthy heads], how much your presence secures your conquests; you have nothing to fear.
_Don Fernando._ And nothing to neglect--too much confidence brings on danger; and you are not ignorant that, with very little difficulty, the rising tide brings them hither. However, I should be wrong to cause a panic in the hearts [of the citizens], the news being uncertain. The dismay which this useless alarm might produce in the night, which is approaching, might agitate the town too much. Cause the guards to be doubled on the walls and at the fort; for this evening that is sufficient.
Scene VII.--DON FERNANDO, DON ALONZO, DON SANCHO, and DON ARIAS.
_Don Alonzo._ Sire, the Count is dead. Don Diego, by his son, has avenged his wrong.
_Don Fernando._ As soon as I knew of the insult I foresaw the vengeance, and from that moment I wished to avert this misfortune.
_Don Alonzo._ Chimène approaches to lay her grief at your feet [_lit._ brings to your knees her grief]; she comes all in tears to sue for justice from you.
_Don Fernando._ Much though my soul compassionates her sorrows, what the Count has done seems to have deserved this just punishment of his rashness. Yet, however just his penalty may be, I cannot lose such a warrior without regret. After long service rendered to my state, after his blood has been shed for me a thousand times, to whatever thoughts his [stubborn] pride compels me, his loss enfeebles me, and his death afflicts me.
Scene VIII.--DON FERNANDO, DON DIEGO, CHIMèNE, DON SANCHO, DON ARIAS, and DON ALONZO.
_Chimène._ Sire, sire, justice!
_Don Diego._ Ah, sire, hear us!
_Chimène._ I cast myself at your feet!
_Don Diego._ I embrace your knees!
_Chimène._ I demand justice.
_Don Diego._ Hear my defence.
_Chimène._ Punish the presumption of an audacious youth: he has struck down the support of your sceptre--he has slain my father!
_Don Diego._ He has avenged his own.
_Chimène._ To the blood of his subjects a king owes justice.
_Don Diego._ For just vengeance there is no punishment.
_Don Fernando._ Rise, both of you, and speak at leisure. Chimène, I sympathize with your sorrow; with an equal grief I feel my own soul afflicted. (_To Don Diego._) You shall