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The Cid by Pierre Corneille
page 12 of 77 (15%)

_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]?

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