No More Learning

What after all do your great years portray
That's not matched by me in a single day?
If you were valiant once, so am I now,
My arm the kingdom's strong support, allow,
Granada and Aragon fear my sword;
My name's Castile's rampart, in a word:
Without me you'd soon bow to other laws,
And your kings be those from other shores.
Each day, each moment, to increase my glory,
Laurels heap on laurels, victory on victory:
The prince, at my side, might test his mettle
Protected by my arm, in every battle;
He would learn to conquer by watching me;
And matching his great character, swiftly
He would see. . .

Diegue
I know you truly serve your king.
I have seen you command: your soldiering:
While age sends ice coursing through my veins,
Your rare courage has secured our gains;
Well, to cut short superfluous discourse,
You are today what I was once, perforce.
Yet nonetheless you see, by this occurrence,
The king between us still detects some difference.

Count
All I merited, you have snatched away.

Diegue
He conquered who proved better on the day.

Count
He who might train the prince is worthiest.

Diegue
And yet to be denied seems scarcely best.

Count
You won it by intrigue, an old 'king's man'.

Diegue
The noise of my great deeds proved partisan.

Count
Be clear, the king shows honour to your age.
Diegue
The king, if so, measures it by my courage.

Count
Therefore the honour should have come to me.

Diegue
He who could not obtain it is not worthy.

Count
Not merit it! I?

Diegue
You.

Count
Your impudence,
Rash old man, shall find its recompense.

(He strikes Don Diegue)

Diegue (drawing his sword)
Come take my life after such cruel offence,
First of my race to bear such impertinence.

Count
What in your weakness can you do, indeed?

Diegue
Oh God! My frail strength flees me in my need!

Count
Your sword is mine, and you no longer worthy
That my hand should bear this shameful trophy.
Adieu. Let the prince read, courting envy,
For his instruction, all your life history;
For your insolent speech this chastisement
Shall serve him for no small amusement.


Act I Scene IV (Don Diegue)

Diegue
O anger! O despair!