 | The Cid |  |
SCENE IV.
Count de Gormas. D. Diego.Count.
Well sir, you have got the day, the Kings high favour
Has lifted you to that which was my due,
H' has made you governour to the Prince of Castile.
D. Diego.
This honour which he has done my family,
Shewes he's just, and knowes well how to pay
With recompence, past services.
Count.
Though Kings
Be great, they are like us, and as much subject
To be deceiv'd, as we, and this his choice
Makes us (which are his servants) see, how ill
He recompences present services.
D. Diego.
Pray let's no more of this: perhaps t'advance
My businesse, favour did as much as merit:
And happily you had beene the better choice,
But yet the King thought me more fit for him:
You may to th'honour which the King has done me
Adde one more if you please, in joyning both
Our families by sacred marriage.
Roderigo loves your daughter, whom h' has made
The chiefest object of's affections,
Give your consent, and take him for your sonne.
Count.
O Sir, Roderigo must looke higher now,
Ought to put greater thoughts into his heart.
Looke to your office well; governe the Prince,
Shew him the way how he may rule a Province,
Make people every where obey his law,
Teach him to love the good, to awe the bad,
Adde to these vertues, those of a Generall,
Instruct him how to harden his soft body
With paine and travell, till he leave himselfe
Without a Rivall in the art of Warre,
To sit continued dayes and nights on horse-backe,
To take his rest in's Armes: To force a Rampire,
And not to owe a victorie but to himselfe,
Shew him this by example, and remember
You ought to represent what you would teach.
D. Diego.
To instruct him by example, this I'le say
In spight of envie, let him read my life,
And by that story learne to tame fierce Nations,
To set on any place, to range an Army,
And lay his ground of honour on his actions.
Count.
Living examples move more forcibly
Than books, in which a Prince scarce learnes his duty:
But what I pray has all your long yeares done
That one day of my actions has not equall'd?
If you were valiant once, I still am so,
This arm's the firme supporter of Castile,
My sword once drawne has made Granado tremble,
Arragon quake; without me other lawes
You must have had, and other Princes serv'd:
Each day, each instant, to my eternall glory,
Has pil'd up victory on victory.
The Prince to set an edge upon his valour,
Marching by me shall be victorious,
Farre from your cold instructions, he shall learne
In seeing my actions, how to overcome.
D. Diego.
In vaine you tell me that I know already,
I've seene you, fight, and under me command.
When age hath shrunke my sinewes up with cold,
Your youth and valour have suppli'd my place.
But not to make so many words of nothing,
You are what I was once, and yet the King
'Twixt our deserts has put a difference.
Count.
That which was my desert, you have obtain'd.
D. Diego.
He that has got it, sure has best deserv'd it.
Count.
He that can best discharge it, best deserves it.
D. Diego.
'Tis no good signe though to be put beside it.
Count.
Like an old Courtier, by much suit you got it.
D. Diego.
My honourable actions stood for me.
Count.
Come, come, the King thus honour'd your gray haire
D. Diego.
He priz'd my valour, when he gave it me.
Count.
If so, the honour had beene mine, not yours.
D. Diego.
He that could not obtain't, did not deserve it.
Count.
Not I deserve it, meane you?
D. Diego.
No, not you.
Count.
Take that, rash Dotard, for thy impudence.
Nay make it up, and after this affront.
Take my life too.
Count.
What dost thou hope to doe thou feeble foole,
Thy sword is mine, but yet I scorne to take it;
Goe now and bid the Prince read o're thy life,
And let him not omit this part of it,
In which hee'le finde the just revenge I take
Of this thine insolence, a faire example.
D. Diego.
Will you then spare my life?
Count.
I'me satisfied;
Mine eyes cry shame unto mine hands for this.
D. Diego.
Then you doe scorne to take it.
Count.
If I should,
I did but cut the threed of three dayes lasting.
D. Diego.
Rage and despaire! must I needs live thus long,
To see this one day of my infamy
Blast all the Trophies of my former yeares,
Of fatall dignity! which art to me
No other than a precipice, from whence
Mine honour headlong fals unto the earth,
Let him that has disarm'd me take the place
Of Governour to the Prince, for I that am
A man dishonour'd, am not fit for it.
And thou my sword, that hang'st here for a shew,
The glorious instrument of my actions past,
But now the idle ornament of my age,
Goe to his hands that can tell how to use thee,
Be then my sonnes, who, if he be my owne,
Cannot but have a sense of my dishonour,
His love give place to the more ardent fire
Of valour, animated by an affront,
Which, though it fell on me, did yet result
On him: and see, he's here, Roderigo tell me,
Hast th'any courage?
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