that battle].

_Don Fernando._ I desire that he should rest at least an hour or two;
but, for fear that such a combat may be considered as a precedent, to
testify to all that I permit, with regret, a sanguinary ordeal which has
never pleased me, it shall not have the presence either of myself or of
my court. [_To Don Arias._] You alone shall judge of the valor of the
combatants. Take care that both act like men of honor [_lit._ courage],
and, the combat ended, bring the victor to me. Whoever he may be, the
same reward is gained by his exertions; I desire with my own hand to
present him to Chimene, and that, as a recompense, he may receive her
plighted faith.

_Chimene._ What, sire! [would you] impose on me so stern a law?

_Don Fernando._ Thou complainest of it; but thy love, far from
acknowledging thy complaint, if Rodrigo be the conqueror, without
restraint accepts [the conditions]. Cease to murmur against such a
gentle decree; whichever of the two be the victor, I shall make him thy
spouse.

ACT THE FIFTH.

Scene I.--DON RODRIGO and CHIMENE.

_Chimene._ What! Rodrigo! In broad daylight! Whence comes this audacity?
Go, thou art ruining my honor; retire, I beseech thee.

_Don Rodrigo._ I go to die, dear lady, and I come to bid you in this
place, before the mortal blow, a last adieu. This unchangeable love,
which binds me beneath your laws, dares not to accept my death without
paying to you homage for it.

_Chimene._ Thou art going to death!

_Don Rodrigo._ I speed to those happy moments which will deliver my life
from your (feelings of) resentment.

_Chimene._ Thou art going to death! Is Don Sancho, then, so formidable,
that he can inspire terror in this invincible heart? What has rendered
thee so weak? or what renders him so strong? Does Rodrigo go to fight,
and believe himself already slain [_lit._ dead]? He who has not feared
the Moors nor my father, goes to fight Don Sancho, and already despairs?
Thus, then, thy courage lowers itself in the [hour of] need.

_Don Rodrigo._ I speed [_lit._ I run] to my punishment, and not to the
combat; and, since you seek my death, my faithful ardor will readily
deprive me of the desire of defending my life. I have always the same
courage, but I have not the [strong] arm, when it is needed, to preserve
that which does not please you; and already this night would have been
fatal to me, if I had fought for my own private wrong; but, defending my
king, his peopl