Scene I.--DON RODRIGO and ELVIRA.
Elvira.
Rodrigo, what hast them done? Whence comest thou, unhappy man?
Don Rodrigo
Here [i.e. to the house of Chimène], to follow out the
sad course of my miserable destiny.
Elvira.
Whence obtainest thou this audacity, and this new pride, of
appearing in places which thou hast filled with mourning? What! dost
thou come even here to defy the shade of the Count? Hast thou not slain
him?
Don Rodrigo
His existence was my shame; my honor required this deed
from my [reluctant] hand.
Elvira.
But to seek thy asylum in the house of the dead! Has ever a
murderer made such his refuge?
Don Rodrigo
And I come here only to yield myself to my judge. Look no
more on me with astonishment [lit. an eye amazed]; I seek death after
having inflicted it. My love is my judge; my judge is my Chimène. I
deserve death for deserving her hatred, and I am come to receive, as a
supreme blessing, its decree from her lips, and its stroke from her
hand.
Elvira.
Fly rather from her sight, fly from her impetuosity; conceal
your presence from her first excitement. Go! do not expose yourself to
the first impulses which the fiery indignation of her resentment may
give vent to.
Don Rodrigo
No, no. This beloved one, whom I [could] so displease,
cannot have too wrathful a desire for my punishment; and I avoid a
hundred deaths which are going to crush me if, by dying sooner, I can
redouble it [i.e. that wrath].
Elvira.
Chimène is at the palace, bathed in tears, and will return but
too well accompanied. Rodrigo, fly! for mercy's sake relieve me from my
uneasiness! What might not people say if they saw you here? Do you wish
that some slanderer, to crown her misery, should accuse her of
tolerating here the slayer of her father? She will return; she is
coming--I see her; at least, for the sake of her honor, Rodrigo,
conceal thyself! [Rodrigo conceals himself.]
Scene II.--DON SANCHO, CHIMÈNE, and ELVIRA.
Don Sancho.
Yes, lady, you require a victim [or revenge] steeped in
blood [lit. for you there is need of bleeding victims]; your wrath is
just and your tears legitimate, and I do not attempt, by dint of
speaking, either to soothe you or to console you. But, if I may be
capable of serving you, employ my sword to punish the guilty [one],
employ my love to revenge this death; under your commands my arm will be
[only] too strong.
Chimène.
Unhappy that I am!
Don Sancho.
I implore you, accept my services.
Chimène.
I should offend the King, who has promised me justice.
Don Sancho.
You know that justice [lit. it] proceeds with such
slowness, that very often crime escapes in consequence of its delay, its
slow and doubtful course causes us to lose too many tears. Permit that a
cavalier may avenge you by [force of] arms; that method is more certain
and more prompt in punishing.
Chimène.
It is the last remedy; and if it is necessary to have
recourse to it, and your pity for my misfortunes still continues, you
shall then be free to avenge my injury.
Don Sancho.
It is the sole happiness to which my soul aspires; and,
being able to hope for it, I depart too well contented.
Scene III.--CHIMÈNE and ELVIRA.
Chimène.
At last I see myself free, and I can, without constraint,
show thee the extent of my keen sorrows; I can give vent to my sad
sighs; I can unbosom to thee my soul and all my griefs. My father is
dead, Elvira; and the first sword with which Rodrigo armed himself has
cut his thread of life. Weep, weep, mine eyes, and dissolve yourselves
into tears! The one half of my life [i.e. Rodrigo] has laid the other
[half, i.e. my father] in the grave, and compels me to revenge, after
this fatal blow, that which I have no more [i.e. my father] on that
which still remains to me [i.e. Rodrigo].
Elvira.
Calm yourself, dear lady.
Chimène.
Ah! how unsuitably, in a misfortune so great, thou speakest
of calmness. By what means can my sorrow ever be appeased, if I cannot
hate the hand which has caused it? And what ought I to hope for but a
never-ending anguish if I follow up a crime, still loving the criminal.
Elvira.
He deprives you of a father, and you still love him?
Chimène.
It is too little to say love, Elvira; I adore him! My passion
opposes itself to my resentment; in mine enemy I find my lover, and I
feel that in spite of all my rage Rodrigo is still contending against my
sire in my heart. He attacks it, he besieges it; it yields, it defends
itself; at one time strong, at one time weak, at another triumphant. But
in this severe struggle between wrath and love, he rends my heart
without shaking my resolution, and although my love may have power over
me, I do not consult it [or, hesitate] to follow my duty. I speed on
[lit. run] without halting [or, weighing the consequences] where my
honor compels me. Rodrigo is very dear to me; the interest I feel in him
grieves me; my heart takes his part, but, in spite of its struggles, I
know what I am [i.e. a daughter], and that my father is dead.
Elvira.
Do you think of pursuing [or, persecuting] him?
Chimène.
Ah! cruel thought! and cruel pursuit to which I see myself
compelled. I demand his head [or, life] and I dread to obtain it; my
death will follow his, and [yet] I wish to punish him!
Elvira.
Abandon, abandon, dear lady, a design so tragic, and do not
impose on yourself such a tyrannical law.
Chimène.
What! my father being dead and almost in my arms--shall his
blood cry for revenge and I not obtain it? My heart, shamefully led away
by other spells, would believe that it owed him only ineffectual tears.
And can I endure that an insidious love, beneath a dastardly apathy,
should extinguish my resolution [lit. beneath a cowardly silence
extinguish my honor]?
Elvira.
Dear lady, believe me, you would be excusable in having less
wrath against an object so beloved, against a lover so dear; you have
done enough, you have seen the King; do not urge on the result [of that
interview]. Do not persist in this morbid [lit. strange] humor.
Chimène.
My honor is at stake; I must avenge myself; and, however the
desires of love may beguile us, all excuse [for not doing one's duty] is
disgraceful to [i.e. in the estimation of] noble-minded souls.
Elvira.
But you love Rodrigo--he cannot offend you.
Chimène.
I confess it.
Elvira.
After all, what then do you intend to do?
Chimène.
To preserve my honor and to end my sorrow; to pursue him, to
destroy him, and to die after him.
Scene IV.--DON RODRIGO, CHIMÈNE, and ELVIRA.
Don Rodrigo
Well then, without giving you the trouble of pursuing me,
secure for yourself the honor of preventing me from living.
Chimène.
Elvira, where are we, and what do I see? Rodrigo in my house!
Rodrigo before me!
Don Rodrigo
Spare not my blood; enjoy [lit. taste], without
resistance, the pleasure of my destruction and of your vengeance.
Chimène.
Alas!
Don Rodrigo
Listen to me.
Chimène.
I am dying.
Don Rodrigo
One moment.
Chimène.
Go, let me die!
Don Rodrigo
Four words only; afterwards reply to me only with this
sword!
Chimène.
What! still imbrued with the blood of my father!
Don Rodrigo
My Chimène.
Chimène.
Remove from my sight this hateful object, which brings as a
reproach before mine eyes thy crime and thy existence.
Don Rodrigo
Look on it rather to excite thy hatred, to increase thy
wrath and to hasten my doom.
Chimène.
It is dyed with my [father's] blood!
Don Rodrigo
Plunge it in mine, and cause it thus to lose the
death-stain of thine own.
Chimène.
Ah! what cruelty, which all in one day slays the father by
the sword [itself], and the daughter by the sight of it! Remove this
object, I cannot endure it; thou wished me to listen to thee, and thou
causest me to die!
Don Rodrigo
I do what thou wishest, but without abandoning the desire
of ending by thy hands my lamentable life; for, in fine, do not expect
[even] from my affection a dastardly repentance of a justifiable [lit.
good] action. The irreparable effect of a too hasty excitement
dishonored my father and covered me with shame. Thou knowest how a blow
affects a man of courage. I shared in the insult, I sought out its
author, I saw him, I avenged my honor and my father; I would do it again
if I had it to do. Not that, indeed, my passion did not long struggle
for thee against my father and myself; judge of its power--under such an
insult, I was able to deliberate whether I should take vengeance for it!
Compelled to displease thee or to endure an affront, I thought that in
its turn my arm was too prompt [to strike]; I accused myself of too much
impetuosity, and thy loveliness, without doubt, would have turned the
scale [or, prevailed overall] had I not opposed to thy strongest
attractions the [thought] that a man without honor would not merit thee;
that, in spite of this share which I had in thy affections, she who
loved me noble would hate me shamed; that to listen to thy love, to obey
its voice, would be to render myself unworthy of it and to condemn thy
choice. I tell thee still, and although I sigh at it, even to my last
sigh I will assuredly repeat it, I have committed an offence against
thee, and I was driven to [or, bound to commit] it to efface my shame
and to merit thee; but discharged [from my duty] as regards honor, and
discharged [from duty] towards my father, it is now to thee that I come
to give satisfaction--it is to offer to thee my blood that thou seest
me in this place. I did my duty [lit. that which I ought to have done]
then, I still do it now. I know that a slain [lit. dead] father arms
thee against my offence; I have not wished to rob thee of thy victim;
sacrifice with courage to the blood he has lost he who constitutes his
glory in having shed it.
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.