Don Sancho. I implore you, accept my services.
Chimène. I should offend the King, who has promised me justice.
Don Sancho. You know that justice [lit. it] proceeds with such slowness, that very often crime escapes in consequence of its delay, its slow and doubtful course causes us to lose too many tears. Permit that a cavalier may avenge you by [force of] arms; that method is more certain and more prompt in punishing.
Chimène. It is the last remedy; and if it is necessary to have recourse to it, and your pity for my misfortunes still continues, you shall then be free to avenge my injury.
Don Sancho. It is the sole happiness to which my soul aspires; and, being able to hope for it, I depart too well contented.
Scene III.—Chimène and Elvira.
Chimène. At last I see myself free, and I can, without constraint, show thee the extent of my keen sorrows; I can give vent to my sad sighs; I can unbosom to thee my soul and all my griefs. My father is dead, Elvira; and the first sword with which Rodrigo armed himself has cut his thread of life. Weep, weep, mine eyes, and dissolve yourselves into tears! The one half of my life [i.e. Rodrigo] has laid the other [half, i.e. my father] in the grave, and compels me to revenge, after this fatal blow, that which I have no more [i.e. my father] on that which still remains to me [i.e. Rodrigo].
Elvira. Calm yourself, dear lady.
Chimène. Ah! how unsuitably, in a misfortune so great, thou speakest of calmness. By what means can my sorrow ever be appeased, if I cannot hate the hand which has caused it? And what ought I to hope for but a never-ending anguish if I follow up a crime, still loving the criminal.
Elvira. He deprives you of a father, and you still love him?