Chimène. Ah, Rodrigo, it is true, although thine enemy, I cannot blame thee for having shunned disgrace; and in whatever manner my griefs burst forth I do not accuse (thee), I (only) lament my misfortunes. I know what honor after such an insult demanded with ardor of a generous courage; thou hast only done the duty of a man of honor, but also in doing that (duty) thou hast taught me mine. Thy fatal valor has instructed me by thy victory—it has avenged thy father and maintained thy glory. The same care concerns me, and I have to add to my infliction (lit. to afflict me) my fame to sustain and my father to avenge. Alas! thy fate (or, your share) in this drives me to despair! If any other misfortune had taken from me my father, my soul would have found in the happiness of seeing thee the only relief which it could have received, and in opposition to my grief I should have felt a fond delight (lit. charm or a magic soothing) when a hand so dear would have wiped away my tears. But I must lose thee after having lost him. This struggle over my passion is due to my honor, and this terrible duty, whose (imperious) command is slaying me, compels me to exert myself (lit. labor or work) for thy destruction. For, in fine, do not expect from my affection any morbid (lit. cowardly) feelings as to thy punishment. However strongly my love may plead in thy favor, my steadfast courage must respond to thine. Even in offending me, thou hast proved thyself worthy of me; I must, by thy death, prove myself worthy of thee.
Don Rodrigo. Defer, then, no longer that which honor commands. It demands my head (or, life), and I yield it to thee; make a sacrifice of it to this noble duty; the (death) stroke will be welcome (lit. sweet), as well as the doom. To await, after my crime, a tardy justice, is to defer thine honor as well as my punishment. I should die too happy in dying by so delightful a (death) blow!
Chimène. Go (i.e. no); I am thy prosecutor, and not thy executioner. If thou offerest me thine head, is it for me to take it; I ought to attack it, but thou oughtest to defend it. It is from another than thee that I must obtain it, and it is my duty (lit. I ought) to pursue thee, but not to punish thee.
Don Rodrigo. However in my favor our love may plead, thy steadfast courage ought to correspond to mine; and to borrow other arms to avenge a father is, believe me, my Chimène, not the (method of) responding to it. My hand alone was fit (lit. has understood how) to avenge the insult offered to my father; thy hand alone ought to take vengeance for thine.
Chimène. O cruel! for what reason shouldst thou persevere on this point? Thou hast avenged thyself without aid, and dost thou wish to give me thine [aid]? I shall follow thy example; and I have too much courage to endure that my glory shall be divided with thee. My father and mine honor shall owe nothing to the dictates of thy love and of thy despair.
Don Rodrigo. O cruel resolution (lit. point of honor)! Alas! whatever I may do, can I by no means obtain this concession (or, favor)? In the name of a slain (lit. dead) father, or of our friendship, punish me through revenge, or at least through compassion. Thy unhappy lover will have far less pain in dying by thy hand than in living with thy hatred.
Chimène. Go; I do not hate thee.
Don Rodrigo. Thou oughtest to do so.
Chimène. I cannot.
Don Rodrigo. Dost thou so little fear calumny, and so little (fear) false reports? When people shall know my crime, and that thy passion (for me) still continues, what will not envy and deception spread abroad? Compel them to silence, and, without debating more, save thy fair fame by causing me to die.
Chimène. That [fair fame] shines far more gloriously [lit. better] by leaving thee life; and I wish that the voice of the blackest slander should raise to heaven my honor, and lament my griefs, knowing that I worship thee, and that [still] I pursue thee [as a criminal]. Go, then; present no more to my unbounded grief that which I [must] lose, although I love it [him]! In the shades of night carefully conceal thy departure; if they see thee going forth, my honor runs a risk. The only opportunity which slander can have is to know that I have tolerated thy presence here. Give it no opportunity to assail my honor.
Don Rodrigo. Let me die.
Chimène. Nay, leave me.
Don Rodrigo. On what art thou resolved?
Chimène. In spite of the glorious love-fires which impede (lit. trouble) my wrath, I will do my utmost to avenge my father; but, in spite of the sternness of such a cruel duty, my sole desire is to be able to accomplish nothing (against thee).
Don Rodrigo. O wondrous love (lit. miracle of love)!
Chimène. O accumulation of sorrows!
Don Rodrigo. What misfortunes and tears will our fathers cost us!
Chimène. Rodrigo, who would have believed—?
Don Rodrigo. Chimène, who would have said—?
Chimène. That our happiness was so near, and would so soon be ruined?
Don Rodrigo. And that so near the haven, contrary to all appearances (or, expectation), a storm so sudden should shatter our hopes?
Chimène. O deadly griefs!
Don Rodrigo. O vain regrets!
Chimène. Go, then, again (I beseech thee); I can listen to thee no more.
Don Rodrigo. Adieu! I go to drag along a lingering life, until it be torn from me by thy pursuit.
Chimène. If I obtain my purpose, I pledge to thee my faith to exist not a moment after thee. Adieu! Go hence, and, above all, take good care that you are not observed. (Exit Don Rodrigo.)
Elvira. Dear lady, whatever sorrows heaven sends us—
Chimène. Trouble me no more; let me sigh. I seek for silence and the night in order to weep.
Scene V.—DON DIEGO.
Never do we experience (lit. taste) perfect joy. Our most fortunate successes are mingled with sadness; always some cares, (even) in the (successful) events, mar the serenity of our satisfaction. In the midst of happiness my soul feels their pang: I float in joy, and I tremble with fear. I have seen (lying) dead the enemy who had insulted me, yet I am unable to find (lit. see) the hand which has avenged me. I exert myself in vain, and with a useless anxiety. Feeble (lit. broken down; or, shattered) though I am, I traverse all the city; this slight degree of vigor, that my advanced years have left me, expends itself fruitlessly in seeking this conqueror. At every moment, at all places, in a night so dark, I think that I embrace him, and I embrace only a shadow; and my love, beguiled by this deceitful object, forms for itself suspicions which redouble my fear. I do not discover any traces of his flight. I fear the dead Count's friends and retinue; their number terrifies me, and confounds my reason. Rodrigo lives no more, or breathes in prison! Just heavens! do I still deceive myself with a shadow only (lit. an appearance), or do I see, at last, my only hope? It is he; I doubt it no more. My prayers are heard, my fear is dispelled, and my trouble ended.
Scene VI.—DON DIEGO and DON RODRIGO.
Don Diego. Rodrigo at last heaven permits that I should behold thee!
Don Rodrigo. Alas!
Don Diego. Mingle not sighs with my joy; let me take breath in order to praise thee. My valor has no reason to disown thee; thou hast well imitated it, and thy brilliant prowess causes the heroes of my race to live again in thee! It is from them that thou descendest, it is from me that thou art sprung. Thy first combat (lit. sword-stroke) equals all of mine, and thy youth, fired with a splendid enthusiasm, by this great proof equals (or, reaches to) my renown. Prop of mine age, and sum of my happiness, touch these white hairs, to which thou restorest honor! Come, kiss this cheek, and recognize the place on which was branded the insult which thy courage effaces!
Don Rodrigo. The honor of it belongs to you. I could not do less, being sprung from you, and trained under your careful instruction (lit. cares). I consider myself too happy (at the result), and my soul is delighted that my first combat (or, maiden-stroke) pleases him to whom I owe existence. But, amidst your gladness, be not jealous if, in my turn, I dare to satisfy myself after you. Permit that in freedom my despair may burst forth; enough and for too long your discourse has soothed it. I do not repent having served you; but give me back the blessing which that (
death) blow has deprived me of. My arms, in order to serve you, battling against my passion, by this (otherwise) glorious deed have deprived me of my love. Say no more to me: for you I have lost all; what I owed you I have well repaid.
Don Diego. Carry, carry still higher the effect (lit. fruit) of thy victory. I have given thee life, and thou restorest to me my honor; and as much as honor is dearer to me than life, so much now I owe thee in return. But spurn this weakness from a noble heart; we have but one honor—there are many mistresses. Love is but a pleasure; honor is a duty.
Don Rodrigo. Ah! what do you say to me?
Don Diego. That which you ought to know.
Don Rodrigo. My outraged honor takes vengeance on myself, and you dare to urge me to the shame of inconstancy! Disgrace is the same, and follows equally the soldier without courage and the faithless lover. Do no wrong, then, to my fidelity; allow me [to be] brave without rendering myself perfidious [perjured]. My bonds are too strong to be thus broken—my faith still binds me, though I [may] hope no more; and, not being able to leave nor to win Chimène, the death which I seek is my most welcome [lit. sweeter] penalty.
Don Diego. It is not yet time to seek death; thy prince and thy country have need of thine arm. The fleet, as was feared, having entered this great river, hopes to surprise the city and to ravage the country. The Moors are going to make a descent, and the tide and the night may, within an hour, bring them noiselessly to our walls. The court is in disorder, the people in dismay; we hear only cries, we see only tears. In this public calamity, my good fortune has so willed it that I have found (thronging) to my house five hundred of my friends, who, knowing the insult offered to me, impelled by a similar zeal, came all to offer themselves to avenge my quarrel. Thou hast anticipated them; but their valiant hands will be more nobly steeped in the blood of Africans. Go, march at their head where honor calls thee; it is thou whom their noble band would have as a leader. Go, resist the advance of these ancient enemies; there, if thou wishest to die, find a glorious death. Seize the opportunity, since it is presented to thee; cause your King to owe his safety to your loss; but rather return from that battle-field (lit. from it) with the laurels on thy brow. Limit not thy glory to the avenging of an insult; advance that glory still further; urge by thy valor this monarch to pardon, and Chimène to peace. If thou lovest her, learn that to return as a conqueror is the sole means of regaining her heart. But time is too precious to waste in words; I stop thee in thine attempted answer, and desire that thou fly (to the rescue). Come, follow me; go to the combat, and show the King that what he loses in the Count he regains in thee.
Act the Fourth
*
Scene I.—CHIMÈNE and ELVIRA.
Chimène. Is it not a false report? Do you know for certain, Elvira?
Elvira. You could never believe how every one admires him, and extols to heaven, with one common voice, the glorious achievements of this young hero. The Moors appeared before him only to their shame; their approach was very rapid, their flight more rapid still. A three hours' battle left to our warriors a complete victory, and two kings as prisoners. The valor of their leader overcame every obstacle (lit. found no obstacles).
Chimène. And the hand of Rodrigo has wrought all these wonders!
Elvira. Of his gallant deeds these two kings are the reward; by his hand they were conquered, and his hand captured them.
Chimène. From whom couldst thou ascertain these strange tidings?
Elvira. From the people, who everywhere sing his praises, [who] call him the object and the author of their rejoicing, their guardian angel and their deliverer.
Chimène. And the King—with what an aspect does he look upon such valor?
Elvira. Rodrigo dares not yet appear in his presence, but Don Diego, delighted, presents to him in chains, in the name of this conqueror, these crowned captives, and asks as a favor from this generous prince that he condescend to look upon the hand which has saved the kingdom (lit. province).
Chimène. But is he not wounded?
Elvira. I have learned nothing of it. You change color! Recover your spirits.
Chimène. Let me recover then also my enfeebled resentment; caring for him, must I forget my own feelings (lit. myself)? They boast of him, they praise him, and my heart consents to it; my honor is mute, my duty impotent. Down (lit. silence), O (treacherous) love! let my resentment exert itself (lit. act); although he has conquered two kings, he has slain my father! These mourning robes in which I read my misfortune are the first-fruits which his valor has produced; and although others may tell of a heart so magnanimous, here all objects speak to me of his crime. Ye who give strength to my feelings of resentment, veil, crape, robes, dismal ornaments, funeral garb in which his first victory enshrouds me, do you sustain effectually my honor in opposition to my passion, and when my love shall gain too much power, remind my spirit of my sad duty; attack, without fearing anything, a triumphant hand!
Elvira. Calm this excitement; see—here comes the Infanta.
Scene II.—The INFANTA, CHIMÈNE, LEONORA, and ELVIRA.
Infanta. I do not come here (vainly) to console thy sorrows; I come rather to mingle my sighs with thy tears.
Chimène. Far rather take part in the universal rejoicings, and taste the happiness which heaven sends you, dear lady; no one but myself has a right to sigh. The danger from which Rodrigo has been able to rescue you, and the public safety which his arms restore to you, to me alone to-day still permit tears; he has saved the city, he has served his King, and his valiant arm is destructive only to myself.
Infanta. My Chimène, it is true that he has wrought wonders.
Chimène. Already this vexatious exclamation of joy (lit. noise) has reached (lit. struck) my ears, and I hear him everywhere proclaimed aloud as brave a warrior as he is an unfortunate lover.
Infanta. What annoyance can the approving shouts of the people cause thee? This youthful Mars whom they praise has hitherto been able to please thee; he possessed thy heart; he lived under thy law; and to praise his valor is to honor thy choice.
Chimène. Every one (else) can praise it with some justice; but for me his praise is a new punishment. They aggravate my grief by raising him so high. I see what I lose, when I see what he is worth. Ah! cruel tortures to the mind of a lover! The more I understand his worth, the more my passion increases; yet my duty is always the stronger (passion), and, in spite of my love, endeavors to accomplish his destruction (lit. to pursue his death).
Infanta. Yesterday, this duty placed thee in high estimation; the struggle which thou didst make appeared so magnanimous, so worthy of a noble heart, that everyone at the court admired thy resolution and pitied thy love. But wilt thou believe in the advice of a faithful friendship?
Chimène. Not to obey you would render me disloyal.
Infanta. What was justifiable then is not so to-day. Rodrigo now is our sole support, the hope and the idol (lit. love) of a people that worships him! The prop of Castile and the terror of the Moor! The King himself recognizes (lit. is in agreement with) this truth, that thy father in him alone sees himself recalled to life: and if, in fine, thou wishest that I should explain myself briefly (lit. in two words), thou art seeking in his destruction the public ruin. What! to avenge a father, is it ever lawful to surrender one's country into the hands of enemies? Against us is thy revenge lawful? And must we be punished who had no share in the crime? After all, it is only that thou shouldest espouse the man whom a dead father compelled thee to accuse; I myself would wish to relieve thee of that desire (lit. take the desire of that from thee); take from him thy love, but leave us his life.
Chimène. Ah! it is not in me to have so much kindness; the duty which excites me has no limit. Although my love pleads (lit. interests itself) for this conqueror, although a nation worships him, and a King praises him, although he be surrounded with the most valiant warriors, I shall endeavor to crush his laurels beneath my (funereal) cypress.
Infanta. It is a noble feeling when, to
avenge a father, our duty assails a head so dear; but it is duty of a still nobler order when ties of blood are sacrificed to the public (advantage). No, believe me, it is enough to quench thy love; he will be too severely punished if he exists no more in thy affections. Let the welfare of thy country impose upon thee this law; and, besides, what dost thou think that the King will grant thee?
Chimène. He can refuse me, but I cannot keep silent.
Infanta. Reflect well, my (dear) Chimène, on what thou wishest to do. Adieu; (when) alone thou cans't think over this at thy leisure. (Exit the Infanta.)
Chimène. Since my father is slain (lit. after my dead father), I have no (alternative) to choose.
Scene III.—DON FERNANDO (the King), DON DIEGO, DON ARIAS, DON RODRIGO, and DON SANCHO.
Don Fernando. Worthy scion of a distinguished race, which has always been the glory and the support of Castile! Thou descendant of so many ancestors signalized by valor, whom the first attempt of thine own (prowess) has so soon equalled; my ability to recompense thee is too limited (lit. small), and I have less power than thou hast merit. The country delivered from such a fierce enemy, my sceptre firmly placed in my hand by thine own (hand), and the Moors defeated before, amid these terrors, I could give orders for repulsing their arms; these are brilliant services which leave not to thy King the means or the hope of discharging his debt of gratitude (lit. acquitting himself) towards thee. But the two kings, thy captives, shall be thy reward. Both of them in my presence have named thee their Cid—since Cid, in their language, is equivalent to lord, I shall not envy thee this glorious title of distinction; be thou, henceforth, the Cid; to that great name let everything yield; let it overwhelm with terror both Granada and Toledo, and let it indicate to all those who live under my laws both how valuable thou art to me (lit. that which thou art worth to me), and that (deep obligation) which I owe thee.
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