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.
Don Rodrigo. Let your majesty, sire, spare my modesty. On such an humble service your majesty [lit. it, referring to majesty] sets too high a value, and compels me to blush [for shame] before so great a King, at so little deserving the honor which I have received from him. I know too well [the gifts] that I owe to the welfare of your empire, both the blood which flows in my veins [lit. animates me] and the air which I breathe, and even though I should lose them in such a glorious cause [lit. for an object so worthy], I should only be doing the duty of a subject.
Don Fernando. All those whom that duty enlists in my service do not discharge it with the same courage, and when [i.e. unless] valor attains a high degree, it never produces such rare successes; allow us then to praise thee, and tell me more at length the true history of this victory.
Don Rodrigo. Sire, you are aware that in this urgent danger, which created in the city such a powerful alarm, a band of friends assembled at the house of my father prevailed on my spirit, still much agitated. But, sire, pardon my rashness if I dared to employ it without your authority; the danger was approaching; their [valiant] band was ready; by showing myself at the court I should have risked my life [lit. head], and, if I must lose it, it would have been far more delightful for me to depart from life while fighting for you.
Don Fernando. I pardon thy warmth in avenging the insult offered to thee, and the kingdom shielded [from danger] pleads [lit. speaks to me] in thy defence. Be assured that henceforth Chimène will speak in vain, and I shall listen to her no more except to comfort her; but continue.
Don Rodrigo. Under me, then, this band advances, and bears in its aspect a manly confidence. At setting out we were five hundred, but, by a speedy reinforcement, we saw ourselves [augmented to] three thousand on arriving at the port; so surely, on beholding us advance with such a [determined] aspect, did the most dismayed recover their courage. Of that brave host [lit. of it], as soon as we had arrived, I conceal two-thirds in the holds of the ships which were found there; the rest, whose numbers were increasing every hour, burning with impatience, remain around me; they lie down on the ground, and, without making any noise, they pass a considerable portion of so auspicious [lit. beautiful] a night. By my command the guard does the same, and keeping themselves, concealed aid my stratagem, and I boldly pretended to have received from you the order which they see me follow out, and which I issue to all. This dim light which falls from the stars, at last with the tide causes us to see thirty vessels [lit. sails]; the wave [i.e. the water] swells beneath them, and, with a mutual effort, the Moors and the sea advance even to the port. We let them pass; all seems to them lulled in repose [lit. tranquil]. No soldiers at the port, none on the walls of the city. Our deep silence deceiving their minds, they no longer dare to doubt that they had taken us by surprise. They land without fear, they cast anchor, they disembark and rush forward to deliver themselves into the hands which are awaiting them. Then we arise, and all at the same time utter towards heaven countless ringing cheers [of defiance]. At these shouts our men from our ships answer [to the signal]; they appear armed, the Moors are dismayed, terror seizes those who had scarcely disembarked, before fighting they consider themselves lost—they hastened to plunder and they meet with war. We press them hard on the water, we press them hard on the land, and we cause rivulets of their blood to run before any [of them] can resist or regain his position. But soon, in spite of us, their princes rally them, their courage revives, and their fears are forgotten. The disgrace of dying without having fought rallies their disordered ranks [lit. stops their disorder], and restores to them their valor. With firmly planted feet they draw their scimitars against us, and cause a fearful intermingling of our blood with theirs; and the land, and the wave, and the fleet, and the port are fields of carnage where death is triumphant. Oh! how many noble deeds, how many brilliant achievements, were performed unnoticed [lit. have remained without renown] in the midst of the gloom, in which each [warrior], sole witness of the brilliant strokes which he gave, could not discern to which side fortune inclined. I went in all directions to encourage our soldiers, to cause some to advance, and to support others, to marshal those who were coming up, to urge them forward in their turn, and I could not ascertain the result [of the conflict] until the break of day. But at last the bright dawn shows us our advantage. The Moor sees his loss and loses courage suddenly, and, seeing a reinforcement which had come to assist us, the ardor for conquest yields to the dread of death. They gain their ships, they cut their cables, they utter even to heaven terrific cries, they make their retreat in confusion and without reflecting whether their kings can escape with them. Their fright is too strong to admit of this duty. The incoming tide brought them here, the outgoing tide carries them away. Meanwhile their kings, combating amongst us, and a few of their [warriors] severely wounded by our blows, still fight valiantly and sell their lives dearly. I myself in vain urge them to surrender; scimitar in hand, they listen not to my entreaties, but seeing all their soldiers falling at their feet, and that henceforward alone they defend themselves in vain, they ask for the commander; I entitle myself as such, and they surrender. I sent you them both at the same time, and the combat ceased for want of combatants. It is in this manner that for your service——
Scene IV.—Don Fernando, Don Diego, Don Rodrigo, Don Arias, Don Alonzo, and Don Sancho.
Don Alonzo. Sire, Chimène comes to demand justice from you.
Don Fernando. Vexatious news and unwelcome duty! Go [Rodrigo]; I do not wish her to see thee. Instead of thanks I must drive thee away; but, before departing, come, let thy King embrace thee!
[Exit Don Rodrigo.]
Don Diego. Chimène pursues him, [yet] she wishes to save him.
Don Fernando. They say that she loves him, and I am going to prove it. Exhibit a more sorrowful countenance [lit. eye].
Scene V.—Don Fernando, Don Diego, Don Arias, Don Sancho, Don Alonzo, Chimène, and Elvira.
Don Fernando. At last, be content, Chimène, 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 passion.
Chimène. 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.
Chimène. 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? Chimène, thy grief appeared too clearly visible.
Chimène. 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 ennobled, but illustrious 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.
Chimène. 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 punishing 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 shields 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.
Chimène. 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 shield and he makes it a pretext not to appear [on a scene] where all men of honor seek a noble death? Such favors would too deeply tarnish his glory; let him enjoy [lit. taste] without shame [lit. blushing] 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 Chimène 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, Chimène, 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 assailant; 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. Chimène, do you confide your quarrel to his hand?
Chimène. 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 Chimène, and that, as a recompense, he may receive her plighted faith.
Chimène. 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.