_Don Alonzo._ Sire, the Count is dead. Don Diego, by his son, has
avenged his wrong.
_Don Fernando._ As soon as I knew of the insult I foresaw the vengeance,
and from that moment I wished to avert this misfortune.
_Don Alonzo._ Chimène approaches to lay her grief at your feet [_lit._
brings to your knees her grief]; she comes all in tears to sue for
justice from you.
_Don Fernando._ Much though my soul compassionates her sorrows, what the
Count has done seems to have deserved this just punishment of his
rashness. Yet, however just his penalty may be, I cannot lose such a
warrior without regret. After long service rendered to my state, after
his blood has been shed for me a thousand times, to whatever thoughts
his [stubborn] pride compels me, his loss enfeebles me, and his death
afflicts me.