DON DIEGO

This honour which he has done my family, Shows he is just, and knows well how to pay With recompense, passed services. Pray let's no more of this: perhaps to advance My business, favour did as much as merit: And happily you had been the better choice, But yet the King thought me more fit for him: You may to the honour which the King has done me Add one more if you please, in joining both Our families by sacred marriage. Roderigo loves your daughter, whom he has made The chiefest object of's affections, Give your consent, and take him for your son. To instruct him by example, this I'll say In spite of envy, let him read my life, And by that story learn to tame fierce Nations. To set on any place, to range and Army, And lay his ground of honour on his actions. In vain you tell me that I know already, I've seen you fight, and under me command. When age hath shrunk my sinews up with cold, Your youth and valour have supplied my place. But not to make so many words of nothing, You are what I was once, and yet the King betwixt our deserts has put a difference. He that has God it, sure has best deserved it. It's no good sign though to be put beside it. My honourable actions stood for me. He prized my valour, when he gave it me. He that could not obtain't, did not deserve it. No, not you. Nay make it up, and after this affront. Take my life too. Will you then spare my life? Then you do scorn to take it. Rage and despair! must I needs live thus long, To see this, one day of my infamy Blast all the Trophies of my former years, Oh fatal dignity! which art to me No other than a precipice, from whence Mine honour headlong falls unto the earth, Let him that has disarmed me take the place Of Governor to the Prince, for I that am A man dishonoured, am not fit for it. And thou my sword, that hangest here for a show, The glorious instrument of my actions passed, But now the idle ornament of my age, Go to his hands that can tell how to use thee, Be then my sons, who, if he be my own, Cannot but have a sense of my dishonour, And though he love Cimena, yet it's fit His love give place to the more ardent fire Of valour, animated by and affront, Which, though it fell on me, did yet result On him: and see, he's here, Roderigo tell me, Hast the any courage? To tell thee more then; beside that he is The bravest soldier, and the best Commander That I have seen; he is— The father to Cimena. Reply not, I know thy love, but yet remember son, He that can live contemned, does not deserve To breath and hour; thou knowest the affront was given To me, to thee I leave the just revenge; The sense of honour, and the fire that springs From thence, should put out the less heat of love; Revenge me, and thy self, show thy self worthy Of me thy father, now overborne with Misery's, Which while I go to moan, haste thou to punish. Oh Sir give ear to my defence. Of him that punished the highest insolence. Has done the office of and honest man. Has revenged his own. A just revenge can fear no punishment. How happy is the man Sir? Who parts no sooner with his strength than life, Since to the valiant, age is most unhappy Accompanied with weakness; I that have Got such glory by my former actions, Whom victory has ever waited on See my self now, for having lived too long Affronted, and overcome. And that which neither Combat, nor siege, nor ambushes could do, Nor all your enemies, nor mine to boot, The pride of one man in your Court has done Almost before your face, and sullied The reverence, and honour of my age, Advantaged by his youth, and by my weakness, And so Sir, these my hairs which have grown white Under my helmet, and my blood, which has So oft for you been spent, should have descended Unto the grave with cureless infamy. Had I not God a Son to save my honour, Who lending me his hand has slain the Count. If to show courage, and a sense of wrong, If to revonge a blow o'th face deserve Severely to be punished, let it fallen On me that tempest, what soer'e it be, For the arms fault, we punish oft the head, I am the head, Sir, he is but the arm, And if Cimena do complain that he Has slain her Father, I must answer her, Had I been able, he had never done it. Sacrifice then this head, which age will take, The arm Sir, may hereafter do you service. And let Cimena's wrong be satisfied At my own blood's expense, and I shall be So far from thinking it and unjust censure, That dying with mine honour, I shall die Without to regret. AT length I see what all my industry Could not effect, chance offers to me, this Must be my Son. Roderigo, blessed be Heaven That gives me leave to see thee. Do not confound my joys with these sad accents, But give me leave to praise thy early Valour, Which shows the noble stock from which thou sprangest The first stroke of thy sword, has equaled all That mine could do, and thy brave youthful spirit, Has reached the glory of thy Ancestors. Prop of my age, and fullness of my joy, Touch these white hairs, whose honour thou hast saved, Come kiss this cheek; and view the place which thou Being affronted, rescud'st from disgrace. By, from so brave a heart banish this weakness, Think there are Mistress's enough ith' world, But no more than one honour; love, is but A little pleasure, honour is a duty. That which thou oughtest to know. This is no time to seek out death. Thy King, Thy Country needs thy aid, the Fleet we feared That entered on the River, is now ready To take the City by surprise. The Moors Are come in silence almost to our walls, The Court is in and uproar, and the people Call to take arms. Nothing but cries are herd I'th midst of these calamities, my fortune Has favoured me so much to let me see, Five hundred of my Friends, within my house, Who hearing of the affront was given me, Offered their lives to vindicate mine honour, Thou hast prevented them, but their brave valours Will better be employed against the Moors; Go march i'th head of them; where honour calls thee, Impeach the landing of the enemy. And if thou must seek death, go find it there; But rather Crowned with victory return, And by thy valour force even justice self To pardon, and Cimena to be silent, If thou dost love her, think thy coming home A Conqueror, must regain her heart, or nothing. But time's too precious to be spent in talk, I stay thee in discourse, when thou shouldst fly, Come follow me to my house: Let the King see What he has lost ith' Count, he has found in thee. It's strange, she should Pursue the man thus, whom she feign would save. But, Sir, mark Her swoonings, and by them how she betrays The secrets of her Soul, surely she loves him. How, Sir, for him must you reverse your laws, Which have so often been observed? what will The people, or the tongue of envy say, Hearing he lives by your protection? And that it only serves him for a colour To hide his cowardice. These are favors, Sir, Which bring dishonour, with'um to the takers, The Count durst do a wrong, my Son durst punish, Let him maintain the honour he has wone. Defer it not so long, Sir; A man of courage is at all times ready. He has taken breath, Sir, in recounting it. Now you perceive she loves, Sir, and not thinks It's such a crime to a vow her lawful love. Well said, my boy, I now perceive my blood runs in thy veins, This noble anger says thou art my son; My youth revives in me from this thy heat. Thou shalt revenge me son. Of and affront so cruel, that our honours Suffer together in it. 'Twas, Roderigo, A box o'th ear, which on th'insolent giver I had revenged, but that my feeble age Failed my strong heart. This sword then, which my arm Knew not to wield, take thou, and with it punish The arrogant that wronged me, and be sure Thou kill, or die, for such a stain as this Is never washed, but in the offenders blood. But let me tell thee, I do send thee now To combat with a man whom I have seen All on a gore, in amid of a fought battle, Making himself a Rampire of slain men.