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