Don Diego. The brilliancy of my noble deeds was my only recommendation [lit. support].
Count. Let us speak better of it [i.e. more plainly]: the king does honor to your age.
Don Diego. The king, when he does it [i.e. that honor], gives it [lit. measures it] to courage.
Count. And for that reason this honor was due only to me [lit. my arm].
Don Diego. He who has not been able to obtain it did not deserve it.
Count. Did not deserve it? I!
Don Diego. You.
Count. Thy impudence, rash old man, shall have its recompense. [He gives him a slap on the face.]
Don Diego (drawing his sword [lit. putting the sword in his hand]). Finish [this outrage], and take my life after such an insult, the first for which my race has ever had cause to blush [lit. has seen its brow grow red].
Count. And what do you think you can do, weak as you are [lit. with such feebleness]?