_Don Fernando._ And what can you say?

_Don Sancho._ That a soul accustomed to noble actions cannot lower
itself to apologies. It does not imagine any which can be expressed
without _shame;_ and it is that word alone that the Count resists. He
finds in his duty a little too much severity, and he would obey you if
he had less heart. Command that his arm, trained in war's dangers,
repair this injury at the point of the sword: he will give satisfaction,
sire; and, come what may, until he has been made aware of your decision,
here am I to answer for him.

_Don Fernando._ You fail [_lit._ you are losing] in respect; but I
pardon youth, and I excuse enthusiasm in a young, courageous heart. A
king, whose prudence has better objects in view [than such quarrels],
is more sparing of the blood of his subjects. I watch over mine; my
[watchful] care protects them, as the head takes care of the limbs which
serve it. Thus your reasoning is not reasoning for me. You speak as a
soldier--I must act as a king; and whatever others may wish to say, or
he may presume to think, the Count will not part with [_lit._ cannot
lose] his glory by obeying me. Besides, the insult affects myself: he
has dishonored him whom I have made the instructor of my son. To impugn
my choice is to challenge me, and to make an attempt upon the supreme
power. Let us speak of it no more. And now, ten vessels of our old
enemies have been seen to hoist their flags; near the mouth of the river
they have dared to appear.

_Don Arias._ The Moors have by force [of arms] learned to know you, and,
so often vanquished, they have lost heart to risk their lives [_lit._
themselves] any more against so great a conqueror.