Chapter 31

_Don Sancho._ Compelled to bring this sword to thy feet----

_Chimène._ What! still [all] reeking with the blood of Rodrigo! Traitor, dost thou dare to show thyself before mine eyes, after having taken from me that [being] whom I love the best? Declare thyself my love, and thou hast no more to fear. My father is satisfied; cease to restrain thyself. The same [death] stroke has placed my honor in safety, my soul in despair, and my passion at liberty!

_Don Sancho._ With a mind more calmly collected----

_Chimène._ Dost thou still speak to me, detestable assassin of a hero whom I adore? Go; you fell upon him treacherously. A warrior so valiant would never have sunk beneath such an assailant! Hope nothing from me. Thou hast not served me; and believing that thou wert avenging me, thou hast deprived me of life.

_Don Sancho._ Strange delusion, which, far from listening to me----

_Chimène._ Wilt thou that I should listen to thee while boasting of his death?--that I should patiently hear with what haughty pride thou wilt describe his misfortune, my own crime, and thy prowess?