The Cid - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
_Don Fernando._ At last, be content, Chimene, success responds to your wishes. Although Rodrigo has gained the advantage over our enemies, he has died before our eyes of the wounds he has received; return thanks to that heaven which has avenged you. (_To Don Diego._) See, how already her color is changed!
_Don Diego._ But see! she swoons, and in this swoon, sire, observe the effect of an overpowering [_lit._ perfect] love. Her grief has betrayed the secrets of her soul, and no longer permits you to doubt her pa.s.sion.
_Chimene._ What, then! Is Rodrigo dead?
_Don Fernando._ No, no, he still lives [_lit._ he sees the day]; and he still preserves for you an unalterable affection; calm this sorrow which takes such an interest in his favor.
_Chimene._ Sire, we swoon from joy, as well as from grief; an excess of pleasure renders us completely exhausted, and when it takes the mind by surprise, it overpowers the senses.
_Don Fernando._ Dost thou wish that in thy favor we should believe in impossibilities? Chimene, thy grief appeared too clearly visible.
_Chimene._ Well, sire! add this crown to my misfortune--call my swoon the effect of my grief; a justifiable dissatisfaction reduced me to that extremity; his death would have saved his head from my pursuit. If he had died of wounds received for the benefit of his country, my revenge would have been lost, and my designs betrayed; such a brilliant end [of his existence] would have been too injurious to me. I demand his death, but not a glorious one, not with a glory which raises him so high, not on an honorable death-bed, but upon a scaffold. Let him die for my father and not for his country; let his name be attainted and his memory blighted. To die for one's country is not a sorrowful doom; it is to immortalize one's self by a glorious death! I love then his victory, and I can do so without criminality; it [the victory] secures the kingdom and yields to me my victim. But enn.o.bled, but ill.u.s.trious amongst all warriors, the chief crowned with laurels instead of flowers--and to say in a word what I think--worthy of being sacrificed to the shade of my father. Alas! by what [vain] hope do I allow myself to be carried away?
Rodrigo has nothing to dread from me; what can tears which are despised avail against him? For him your whole empire is a sanctuary [_lit._ a place of freedom]; there, under your power, everything is lawful for him; he triumphs over me as [well as] over his enemies; justice stifled in their blood that has been shed, serves as a new trophy for the crime of the conqueror. We increase its pomp, and contempt of the law causes us to follow his [triumphal] chariot between two kings.
_Don Fernando._ My daughter, these transports are too violent [_lit._ have too much violence]. When justice is rendered, all is put in the scale. Thy father has been slain, he was the aggressor; and justice itself commands me [to have] mercy. Before accusing that [degree of clemency] which I show, consult well thine heart; Rodrigo is master of it; and thy love in secret returns thanks to thy King, whose favor preserves such a lover for thee.
_Chimene._ For me! my enemy! the object of my wrath! the author of my misfortunes? the slayer of my father! To my just pursuit [of vengeance]
they pay so little attention, that they believe that they are conferring a favor on me by not listening to it. Since you refuse justice to my tears, sire, permit me to have recourse to arms; it is by that alone that he has been able to injure me, and it is by that (means) also that I ought to avenge myself. From all your knights I demand his head; yes, let one of them bring it to me, and I will be his prize; let them fight him, sire, and, the combat being finished, I [will] espouse the conqueror, if Rodrigo is slain [_lit._ punished]. Under your authority, permit this to be made public.
_Don Fernando._ This ancient custom established in these places, under the guise of punis.h.i.+ng an unjust affront, weakens a kingdom [by depriving it] of its best warriors; the deplorable success of this abuse [of power] often crushes the innocent and s.h.i.+elds the guilty. From this [ordeal] I release Rodrigo; he is too precious to me to expose him to the [death] blows of capricious fate; and whatever (offence) a heart so magnanimous could commit, the Moors, in retreating, have carried away his crime.
_Chimene._ What, sire, for him alone you reverse the laws, which all the court has so often seen observed! What will your people think, and what will envy say, if he screens his life beneath your s.h.i.+eld and he makes it a pretext not to appear [on a scene] where all men of honor seek a n.o.ble death? Such favors would too deeply tarnish his glory; let him enjoy [_lit._ taste] without shame [_lit._ blus.h.i.+ng] the fruits of his victory. The count had audacity, he was able to punish him for it; he [i.e. Rodrigo] acted like a man of courage, and ought to maintain it [that character].
_Don Fernando._ Since you wish it, I grant that he shall do so; but a thousand others would take the place of a vanquished warrior, and the reward which Chimene has promised to the conqueror would render all my cavaliers his enemies; to oppose him alone to all would be too great an injustice; it is enough, he shall enter the lists once only. Choose who [what champion] you will, Chimene, and choose well; but after this combat ask nothing more.
_Don Diego._ Release not by that those whom his valor [_lit._ arm]
terrifies; leave an open field which none will [dare to] enter. After what Rodrigo has shown us to-day, what courage sufficiently presumptuous would dare to contend with him? Who would risk his life against such an opponent? Who will be this valiant, or rather this rash individual?
_Don Sancho._ Open the lists, you see this a.s.sailant; I am this rash or rather this valiant [champion]. Grant this favor to the zeal which urges me on; dear lady, you know what your promise is.
_Don Fernando._ Chimene, do you confide your quarrel to his hand?
_Chimene._ Sire, I have promised it.
_Don Fernando._ Be ready to-morrow.
_Don Diego._ No, sire, there is no need to defer the contest; a man is always ready when he possesses courage.
_Don Fernando._ [What!] To come forth from one battle and to (instantly) enter the lists [_lit._ to fight]?
_Don Diego._ Rodrigo has regained breath in relating to you this [i.e.
the history of that battle].
_Don Fernando._ I desire that he should rest at least an hour or two; but, for fear that such a combat may be considered as a precedent, to testify to all that I permit, with regret, a sanguinary ordeal which has never pleased me, it shall not have the presence either of myself or of my court. [_To Don Arias._] You alone shall judge of the valor of the combatants. Take care that both act like men of honor [_lit._ courage], and, the combat ended, bring the victor to me. Whoever he may be, the same reward is gained by his exertions; I desire with my own hand to present him to Chimene, and that, as a recompense, he may receive her plighted faith.
_Chimene._ What, sire! [would you] impose on me so stern a law?
_Don Fernando._ Thou complainest of it; but thy love, far from acknowledging thy complaint, if Rodrigo be the conqueror, without restraint accepts [the conditions]. Cease to murmur against such a gentle decree; whichever of the two be the victor, I shall make him thy spouse.
ACT THE FIFTH.
Scene I.--DON RODRIGO and CHIMeNE.
_Chimene._ What! Rodrigo! In broad daylight! Whence comes this audacity?
Go, thou art ruining my honor; retire, I beseech thee.
_Don Rodrigo._ I go to die, dear lady, and I come to bid you in this place, before the mortal blow, a last adieu. This unchangeable love, which binds me beneath your laws, dares not to accept my death without paying to you homage for it.
_Chimene._ Thou art going to death!
_Don Rodrigo._ I speed to those happy moments which will deliver my life from your (feelings of) resentment.
_Chimene._ Thou art going to death! Is Don Sancho, then, so formidable, that he can inspire terror in this invincible heart? What has rendered thee so weak? or what renders him so strong? Does Rodrigo go to fight, and believe himself already slain [_lit._ dead]? He who has not feared the Moors nor my father, goes to fight Don Sancho, and already despairs?
Thus, then, thy courage lowers itself in the [hour of] need.
_Don Rodrigo._ I speed [_lit._ I run] to my punishment, and not to the combat; and, since you seek my death, my faithful ardor will readily deprive me of the desire of defending my life. I have always the same courage, but I have not the [strong] arm, when it is needed, to preserve that which does not please you; and already this night would have been fatal to me, if I had fought for my own private wrong; but, defending my king, his people, and my country, by carelessly defending myself, I should have betrayed _them_. My high-born spirit does not hate life so much as to wish to depart from it by perfidy, now that it regards my interests only. You demand my death--I accept its decree. Your resentment chose the hand of another; I was unworthy [_lit._ I did not deserve] to die by yours. They shall not see me repel its blows; I owe more respect to him [the champion] who fights for you; and delighted to think that it is from you these [blows] proceed--since it is your honor that his arms sustain--I shall present to him my unprotected [_or_, defenceless] breast, wors.h.i.+pping through his hand thine that destroys me.
_Chimene._ If the just vehemence of a sad [sense of] duty, which causes me, in spite of myself, to follow after thy valiant life, prescribes to thy love a law so severe, that it surrenders thee without defence to him who combats for me, in this infatuation [_lit._ blindness], lose not the recollection, that, with thy life, thine honor is tarnished, and that, in whatever renown Rodrigo may have lived, when men shall know him to be dead, they will believe him conquered. Thine honor is dearer to thee than I am dear, since it steeps thine hands in the blood of my father, and causes thee to renounce, in spite of thy love, the sweet hope of gaining me. I see thee, however, pay such little regard to it [honor], that, without fighting, thou wishest to be overcome. What inconsistency [_lit._ unequality] mars thy valor! Why hast thou it [that valor] no more? or why didst thou possess it [formerly]? What! art thou valiant only to do me an injury? Unless it be to offend [_or_, injure] me, hast thou no courage at all? And dost thou treat my father with such rigor [i.e. so far disparage the memory of my father], that, after having conquered him, thou wilt endure a conqueror? Go! without wis.h.i.+ng to die, leave me to pursue thee, and defend thine honor, if thou wilt no longer live.
_Don Rodrigo._ After the death of the count and the defeat of the Moors, will my renown still require other achievements? That [glory] may scorn the care of defending myself; it is known that my courage dares to attempt all, that my valor can accomplish all, and that, here below [_lit._ under the heavens], in comparison with mine honor, nothing is precious to me. No! no! in this combat, whatever thou may'st please to think, Rodrigo may die without risking his renown: without men daring to accuse him of having wanted spirit: without being considered as conquered, without enduring a conqueror. They will say only: "He adored Chimene; he would not live and merit her hatred; he yielded himself to the severity of his fate, which compelled his mistress to seek his death; she wished for his life [_lit._ head], and his magnanimous heart, had that been refused to her, would have considered it a crime. To avenge his honor, he lost his love; to avenge his mistress, he forsook life, preferring (whatever hope may have enslaved his soul) his honor to Chimene, and Chimene to his existence." Thus, then, you will see that my death in this conflict, far from obscuring my glory, will increase its value; and this honor will follow my voluntary death, that no other than myself could have satisfied you [for the death of your father].
_Chimene._ Since, to prevent thee from rus.h.i.+ng to destruction, thy life and thine honor are [but] feeble inducements, if ever I loved thee, dear Rodrigo, in return [for that love], defend thyself now, to rescue me from Don Sancho. Fight, to release me from a compact which delivers me to the object of my aversion. Shall I say more to thee? Go, think of thy defence, to overcome my sense of duty, to impose on me silence; and if thou feelest thine heart still enamored for me, come forth, as a conqueror, from a combat of which Chimene is the reward. Adieu; this thoughtlessly uttered [_lit._ let slip] word causes me to blush for shame!
[_Exit Chimene._]
_Don Rodrigo._ Where is the foe I could not now subdue? Come forth, [warriors] of Navarre, Morocco, and Castile! and all the heroes that Spain has produced; unite together and form an army, to contend against one hand thus nerved [to action]. Unite all your efforts against a hope so sweet--you have too little power to succeed in destroying it!
Scene II.--THE INFANTA.
Shall I listen to thee still, pride of my birth, that makest a crime out of my pa.s.sions? Shall I listen to thee, love, whose delicious power causes my desires to rebel against this proud tyrant? Poor princess! to which of the two oughtest thou to yield obedience? Rodrigo, thy valor renders thee worthy of me; but although thou art valiant, thou art not the son of a king.
Pitiless fate, whose severity separates my glory and my desires! Is it decreed [_lit._ said], that the choice of [a warrior of] such rare merit should cost my pa.s.sion such great anguish? O heaven! for how many sorrows [_lit._ sighs] must my heart prepare itself, if, after such a long, painful struggle, it never succeeds in either extinguis.h.i.+ng the love, or accepting the lover!
But there are too many scruples, and my reason is alarmed at the contempt of a choice so worthy; although to monarchs only my [proud]
birth may a.s.sign me, Rodrigo, with honor I shall live under thy laws.
After having conquered two kings, couldst thou fail in obtaining a crown? And this great name of Cid, which thou hast just now won--does it not show too clearly over whom thou art destined to reign?
He is worthy of me, but he belongs to Chimene; the present which I made of him [to her], injures me. Between them, the death of a father has interposed so little hatred, that the duty of blood with regret pursues him. Thus let us hope for no advantage, either from his transgression or from my grief, since, to punish me, destiny has allowed that love should continue even between two enemies.
Scene III.--THE INFANTA and LEONORA.