_Don Fernando._ And nothing to neglect--too much confidence brings on danger; and you are not ignorant that, with very little difficulty, the rising tide brings them hither. However, I should be wrong to cause a panic in the hearts [of the citizens], the news being uncertain. The dismay which this useless alarm might produce in the night, which is approaching, might agitate the town too much. Cause the guards to be doubled on the walls and at the fort; for this evening that is sufficient. Scene VII.--DON FERNANDO, DON ALONZO, DON SANCHO, and DON ARIAS. _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._ Chimene 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. Scene VIII.--DON FERNANDO, DON DIEGO, CHIMENE, DON SANCHO, DON ARIAS, and DON ALONZO. _Chimene._ Sire, sire, justice! _Don Diego._ Ah, sire, hear us! _Chimene._ I cast myself at your feet! _Don Diego._ I embrace your knees! _Chimene._ I demand justice. _Don Diego._ Hear my defence. _Chimene._ Punish the presumption of an audacious youth: he has struck down the support of your sceptre--he has slain my father! _Don Diego._ He has avenged his own. _Chimene._ To the blood of his subjects a king owes justice. _Don Diego._ For just vengeance there is no punishment. _Don Fernando._ Rise, both of you, and speak at leisure. Chimene, I sympathize with your sorrow; with an equal grief I feel my own soul afflicted. (_To Don Diego._) You shall speak afterwards; do not interrupt her complaint. _Chimene._ Sire, my father is dead! My eyes have seen his blood gush forth from his noble breast--that blood which has so often secured your walls--that blood which has so often won your battles--that blood which, though all outpoured, still fumes with rage at seeing itself shed for any other than for you! Rodrigo, before your very palace, has just dyed [_lit._ covered] the earth with that [blood] which in the midst of dangers war did not dare to shed! Faint and pallid, I ran to the spot, and I found him bereft of life. Pardon my grief, sire, but my voice fails me at this terrible recital; my tears and my sighs will better tell you the rest! _Don Fernando._ Take courage, my daughter, and know that from to-day thy king will serve thee as a father instead of him.