history of thy life.
This just punishment of impertinent language will serve as no small
embellishment for it.

Scene V.--DON DIEGO.

O rage! O despair! O inimical old age! Have I then lived so long only
for this disgrace? And have I grown grey in warlike toils, only to see
in one day so many of my laurels wither? Does my arm [i.e. my valor],
which all Spain admires and looks up to [_lit._ with respect]--[does] my
arm, which has so often saved this empire, and so often strengthened
anew the throne of its king, now [_lit._ then] betray my cause, and do
nothing for me? O cruel remembrance of my bygone glory! O work of a
lifetime [_lit._ so many days] effaced in a day! new dignity fatal to my
happiness! lofty precipice from which mine honor falls! must I see the
count triumph over your splendor, and die without vengeance, or live in
shame? Count, be now the instructor of my prince! This high rank becomes
[_lit._ admits] no man without honor, and thy jealous pride, by this
foul [_lit._ remarkable] insult, in spite of the choice of the king, has
contrived [_lit._ has known how] to render me unworthy of it. And thou,
glorious instrument of my exploits, but yet a useless ornament of an
enfeebled body numbed by age [_lit._ all of ice], thou sword, hitherto
to be feared, and which in this insult has served me for show, and not
for defence, go, abandon henceforth the most dishonored [_lit._ the
last] of his race; pass, to avenge me, into better hands!

Scene VI.--DON DIEGO and DON RODRIGO.

_Don Diego._ Rodrigo, hast thou courage [_lit._ a heart]?

_Don Rodrigo._ Any other than my father would have found that out
instantly.

_Don Diego._ Welcome wrath! worthy resentment, most pleasing to my
grief! I recognize my blood in this noble rage; my youth revives in this
ardor so prompt. Come, my son, come, my blood, come to retrieve my
shame--come to avenge me!

_Don Rodrigo._ Of what?

_Don Diego._ Of an insult so cruel that it deals a deadly stroke
against the honor of us both--of a blow! The insolent [man] would have
lost his life for it, but my age deceived my noble ambition; and this
sword, which my arm can no longer wield, I give up to thine, to avenge
and punish. Go against this presumptuous man, and prove thy valor: it is
only in blood that one can wash away such an insult; die or slay.
Moreover, not to deceive thee, I give thee to fight a formidable
antagonist [_lit._ a man to be feared], I have seen him entire