Brooding sat Diego Laynez o'er the insult to his name, Nobler and more ancient far than Inigo Abarca's fame; For he felt that strength was wanting to avenge the craven blow, If he himself at such an age to fight should think to go. Sleepless he passed the weary nights, his food untasted lay, Ne'er raised his eyes from off the ground, nor ventured forth to stray, Refused all converse with his friends, impelled by mortal fear, Lest fame of outrage unatoned should aggravate his care. While pondering thus his honor's claims in search of just redress, He thought of an expedient his failing house to test; So summoning to his side his sons, excused all explanation, Silent began to clutch their hands in proper alternation, (Not by their tender palms to trace the chiromantic linings, For at that day no place was found in Spain for such divinings), But calling on his honor spent for strength and self-denial, He set aside parental love and steeled his nerves to trial, Griping their hands with all his might till each cried: "Hold, Sir, hold! What meaneth this? pray, let me go; thou'rt killing me, behold!" Now when he came to Roderick, the youngest of them all, Despair had well-nigh banished hope of cherished fruit withal (Though ofttimes lingering nearest when farthest thought to be); The young man's eyes flashed fury, like tiger fierce stood he And cried: "Hold, father, hold, a curse upon ye, stay! An ye were not my father, I would not stop to pray, But by this good right arm of mine would straight pluck out your life With a bare digit of my hand, in lieu of vulgar knife! The old man wept for joy: "Son of my soul," quoth he, "Thy rage my rage disarmeth, thine ire is good to see; Prove now thy mettle, Rod'rick; wipe out my grievous stain, Restore the honor I have lost, unless thou it regain--" Then quickly told him of the wrong to which he was a prey, Gave him his blessing and a sword and bade him go his way To end the Count's existence and begin a brighter day. --Tr. by Knapp. PENSATIVO ESTAVA EL CID. (THE SOLILOQUY.) Pensive stood the young Castilian, musing calmly on his plight; 'Gainst a man like Count Lozano to avenge a father's slight! Thought of all the trained dependents that his foe could quickly call, A thousand brave Asturians scattered through the highlands all; Thought, too, how at the Cortes of Leon his voice prevailed, And how in border forays the Moor before him quailed; At last reviewed the grievance--No sacrifice too great To vindicate the first affront to Layn Calvo's state; Then calls on Heaven for justice, and on the earth for space, Craves strength of honor injured, and of his father grace, Nor heeds his youthful bearing, for men of rank like he Are wont from birth to prove their worth by deeds of chivalry.