and you would soon have
your enemies as [_lit._ for] kings. Each day, each moment, to increase
my glory, adds laurels to laurels, victory to victory. The prince, by my
side, would make the trial of his courage in the wars under the shadow
of my arm; he would learn to conquer by seeing me do so; and, to prove
speedily worthy of his high character, he would see----

_Don Diego._ I know it; you serve the king well. I have seen you fight
and command under me, when [old] age has caused its freezing currents to
flow within my nerves [i.e. "when the frosts of old age had numbed my
nerves"--_Jules Bue_], your unexampled [_lit._ rare] valor has worthily
[_lit._ well] supplied my place; in fine, to spare unnecessary words,
you are to-day what I used to be. You see, nevertheless, that in this
rivalry a monarch places some distinction between us.

_Count._ That prize which I deserved you have carried off.

_Don Diego._ He who has gained that [advantage] over you has deserved it
best.

_Count._ He who can use it to the best advantage is the most worthy of
it.

_Don Diego._ To be refused that prize [_lit._ it] is not a good sign.

_Count._ You have gained it by intrigue, being an old courtier.

_Don Diego._ The brilliancy of my noble deeds was my only recommendation
[_lit._ support].

_Count._ Let us speak better of it [i.e. more plainly]: the king does
honor to your age.

_Don Diego._ The king, when he does it [i.e. that honor], gives it
[_lit._ measures it] to courage.

_Count._ And for that reason this honor was due only to me [_lit._ my
arm].

_Don Diego._ He who has not been able to obtain it did not deserve it.

_Count._ Did not deserve it? I!

_Don Diego._ You.

_Count._ Thy impudence, rash old man, shall have its recompense. [_He
gives him a slap on the face._] _Don Diego (drawing his sword [_lit._
putting the sword in his hand_]). Finish [this outrage], and take my
life after such an insult, the first for which my race has ever had
cause to blush [_lit._ has seen its brow grow red].

_Count._ And what do you think you can do, weak us you are [_lit._ with
such feebleness]?

_Don Diego._ Oh, heaven! my exhausted strength fails me in this
necessity!

_Count._ Thy sword is mine; but thou wouldst be too vain if this
discreditable trophy had laden my hand [i.e. if I had carried away a
trophy so discreditable]. Farewell--adieu! Cause the prince to read, in
spite of jealous feelings, for his instruction, the