 | The Cid |  |
ACT II.
SCENE I.
Don Arias. The Count of Gormas.Count.
I must needs say, when I did give th'affront
My bloud was over-heated, and my hand
Somewhat too ready, but now who can help it?
Since it is done, It cannot be recall'd.
D. Arias.
Faith, Let your courage stoope to the Kings will,
He takes the businesse much to heart, and being
So highly incens'd, beleeve it hee'le proceed
With his full power, and then what defence
Can you make for your selfe, when th'affront,
By the person of th'offended, and the place.
These will require of you, my Lord, submissione
Beyond all ordinary satisfaction.
Count.
Then let him take my life, 'tis in his power.
D. Arias.
Abate some of your heat, and heare what's reason,
Will you not seeke to appease a Prince that loves you
He sayes, I'le ha' this done, will not you doe it?
Count.
Sir, to preserve my honour, I cannot thinke
'Tis such a crime, somewhat to disobey,
But were it greater, what I've done for him,
Would be more than enough to make my excuse.
D. Arias.
Suppose you've done all that a man can thinke
In the Kings service: is he bound to thanke you?
Can a Prince be beholding to a subject?
You are too much o're-weening; you must know,
He that best serves his King does but his duty,
If you thinke otherwise, you are undone.
Count.
I shall beleeve you when I finde it so.
D. Arias.
Yout can't but feare the power of the King.
Count.
One day destroyes not such a man as I am,
Let him arme all his power to punish me,
The state shall rather perish, than I suffer.
D. Arias.
Doe you so little feare the soveraigne power?
Count.
What? of that Scepter? which if not for me
Had ere now falne out of his hand: my person
That if my head fall, his crowne cannot stand.
D. ARIAS.
My Lord, give reason leave to settle you,
Thinke on't a little.
COUNT.
The thought's already taken.
D. ARIAS.
What shall I say then? I must give him an account.
COUNT.
This: that I know not how to give consent
To mine owne shame.
D. ARIAS.
But my Lord imagine,
Kings will be absolute.
COUNT.
Let 'um be so,
The Die is cast Sir, let's talke no more on't.
D. ARIAS.
Then I must take my leave, since my perswasions
Can doe no good: though you be cover'd o're
with lawrels, yet my Lord, take heed of thunder.
COUNT.
I'le wait it without feare.
D. ARIAS.
It will come home.
COUNT.
If it doe, D. Diego's satisfied.
How little am I scar'd with these poore threats?
My honour once engag'd, a thousand deaths
Presented to me in the most hideous formes,
Cannot once startle me.
SCENE II.
RODERIGO. COUNT de GORMAS.RODERIGO.
My Lord a word.
COUNT.
Speake.
RODERIGO.
Resolve me of a doubt, doe you know
Don Diego well?
COUNT.
I doe.
RODERIGO.
And that he was
The spirit and the glory of his time,
Doe you know this?
COUNT.
Perhaps he might be so.
RODERIGO.
And that this ardor which mine eyes doe beare,
Doe you know it is his bloud it represents?
COUNT.
What's that to me?
RODERIGO.
Some distance from this place
I'le make you know it.
Presumptuous boy!
RODERIGO.
Be not so hot, I know I'me young, but you
In noble soules, valour prevents their yeares?
COUNT.
But who has led thee to that vanity?
To set thee upon me, thou that did'st never
Beare armes, perhaps thou know'st not who I am.
RODERIGO.
Yes: and I know a stouter man than I
Would tremble at the hearing of thy name
Thy head is cover'd o're with lawrels, where
Victory perches, and from thence reads to me
The fate of my destruction: I doe challenge
Like a rash youth, a man inur'd to conquest,
Yet having heart enough, I shan't want strength,
Or if I should, wearing my fathers cause
Upon my sword and arme, they cannot faile me.
COUNT.
This courage which appeares in thy discourse,
I have beene long acquainted with, and hoping
To see the honour of Castile in thee,
'Twas in my thoughts to give my daughter to thee,
I know thy love, and am amaz'd to see
It's motions to give place unto thy honour,
And meaning to finde out a perfect man,
And compleat Cavalier for my sonne in law,
I'me not mistaken in the choice I've made.
But here my pitty intervenes, and though
I wonder at thy courage, yet I grieve
To see thy rashnesse: doe not seeke thy death,
Prethee excuse my valour from a combat
So farre unequall. If thou fall'st by me,
'Twill be no honour to me. To o'recome
Where there's no glory: for thou wilt be thought
To have with ease beene ruin'd, and my selfe
Shall alone feele the griefe that I have done it.
RODERIGO.
Th'hast seconded th'affront thou gav'st my father,
With a pity worse than that, dar'st thou deprive me
Of my honour, and yet fear'st to take my life?
COUNT.
Leave me good youth.
RODERIGO.
Let's goe, and talke no more on't.
COUNT.
Art thou so weary of thy life?
RODERIGO.
Art thou
So afraid to die?
COUNT.
Come then, thou do'st no more
Than is'thy duty, he's a degenerate sonne
That will out-live one jot his fathers honour.
SCENE III.
INFANTA. CIMENA.INFANTA.
Be not so griev'd, Cimena, dry thine eyes,
Use now thy constancie in this misfortune,
Thy happinesse is but clouded for a while,
And some small time will make thee no great loser.
CIMENA.
What can I hope now, but continuall troubles,
A storme so sudden comming o're this calme
Threatens a certaine shipwracke to our loves:
'Tis past all doubt, I perish in the haven.
I lov'd, was lov'd againe, our friends agreed,
And I no sooner had told you the newes,
But in an ill houre sprung their fatall quarrell,
Which when I heard, I knew my hopes were ruin'd:
Cursed ambition, honour pittilesse,
Under whose tyranny the bravest soules
Doe ever suffer: how many teares and sighs
Must I pay for you?
INFANTA.
Thou hast no reason
To feare their quarrell, which on a sudden borne,
Will as soone die: there's too much noise of it
To let it live. The King shall take it up,
And for thy sake I'le see't shall goe no farther.
CIMENA.
This businesse will admit no composition,
Th'affronts to honour never are repair'd,
Wisdome or power can prevaile little here;
This wound will not be heal'd, it may be cover'd,
And stifled hate nourishes secret fires
Within the brest, but such as burne more fiercely.
INFANTA.
But th'holy knot which shall once joyne Cimena
To Roderigo, will dissolve the hatred
Of both their fathers, and the bonds of love,
As being more strong, will quickly stop their discord.
CIMENA.
rather doe desire, than hope it, Madam,
My father well, of what a spirit he is.
I feele my teares runne, which I would retaine:
What's past, torments me, and I feare the sequell.
INFANTA.
Do'st thou feare what a weake old man can doe?
CIMENA.
Roderigo is not weake.
INFANTA.
But he's too young.
CIMENA.
Valiant young men are ever very sudden.
INFANTA.
But that thou need'st not feare. He loves thee too well
To anger or displease thee, one poore word
Out of thy mouth, will quickly stay his heat.
CIMENA.
If he doe not obey, how great's my griefe?
And if he doe, what will men say of him,
That being a Gentleman, he could put up
Such an affront? so that if he resist,
Or else give way to his affection,
I cannot but be troubled, or asham'd
At his too much respect, or just deniall.
INFANTA.
Cimena's generous, and though she be
Ingag'd, she cannot suffer a base thought.
But if I make a prisoner of this lover
Untill this businesse be tane up betwixt them,
Will not your love turne into jealousie?
CIMENA.
Ah, Madam, in this case I have no such thought.
INFANTA.
Boy, looke out Roderigo, bring him hither.
He, and the Count of Gormas
CIMENA.
Good God, I tremble!
INFANTA.
Speake.
BOY.
Went out together.
INFANTA.
Alone?
BOY.
Alone, and as it seem'd, they went to quarell.
CIMENA.
Ay me, my fear's, they're fighting by this time.
INFANTA.
Let's spend no more time then, but goe looke um out.
SCENE IV.
KING. D. ARIAS. D. ALONSO. D. SANCHO.KING.
Is he so vaine, has he so little reason,
That he dares thinke his crime yet pardonable!
D. ARIAS.
I treated long with him on your behalfe,
I did (Sir) my devoir, but obtain'd nothing.
KING.
Just heaven! can a subject be so rash
H'as strucken Don Diego, scorn'd his King,
In my owne Court he meanes to give me lawes:
Be he ne're so good a souldier or commander,
I'le make him know what 'tis to disobey,
I would ha' treated him with all faire meanes,
But since he has abus'd my patience,
Goe some of you and looke him out, and whether
He doe resist, or not, make sure of him.
D. SANCHO.
Perhaps some little time will bring him in.
He was taken boiling in his choller, Sir,
And a stout heart will hardly yeeld to reason,
In the first motion of its rage and heat.
Here's no man, that not thinks he is to blame,
But yet so high a spirit is not brought
At first so easily to confesse his fault.
KING.
Don Sancho, hold your peace, and let me tell you,
He that shall take his part is alike faulty.
D. SANCHO.
I obey Sir, and am silent, but with favour,
A word in his defence.
KING.
What can you say?
D. SANCHO.
Sir, that a soule accustom'd to great actions,
Cannot abase it selfe to low submissions.
It knowes not how to doe it without shame,
And that's the word which troubles most the Count.
He finds it somewhat hard to doe his duty.
He would obey if he had lesse of courage;
If you'd command, that he being us'd to arms,
Should with his sword repaire this injury,
I'le undertake he shall make satisfaction.
You are too bold Sir, but your age I pardon,
Thinking it to proceed from heat of youth.
A prudent King knowes better how to husband
His subjects bloud, then so to venture 'em.
For mine, I meane my care shall still conserve 'um.
As the head cares for th'members which doe serve it.
You speake Sir, as a souldier, but I must
Doe as a King, and whatsoere the Count
Does say or thinke, I'me sure he cannot lose
Ought of his honour in obeying me:
Th'affront he did to him whom I have made
Governour to my sonne, does touch me neerly,
And this his insolence hath quarrell'd me,
And th'choice I made: So if he doe submit,
I am the man he satisfies. But no more,
Don Arias, by an advice of late receiv'd,
I heare the Moores meane shortly to supprise us.
D. ARIAS.
Dare the Moores stirre?
KING.
Their vessels are discover'd
At the Rivers mouth, and you know how easily
At a full Sea they may come up.
D. ARIAS.
The battailes
Tthey' ve lost already, should make 'um loose the heart
To set on such a Conquerour as you.
KING.
They cannot but with Jealouzy looke on,
Seeing me rule in Andalouzia,
And this faire Country, which I tooke from them,
Keepes their designes awake. It is the reason,
Why here in Sevill I have plac'd my Throne,
That being neere 'um I may be more ready
To meet with their attempts.
Sir, they have learnt,
At the great charge of their owne heads by this time,
How much your presence does assure your conquest,
Y'have nothing Sir, to feare.
KING.
Nor to neglect:
Too much assurance still drawes danger with it:
The enemy which we now thinke to destroy,
If he can take his time, may annoy us.
But yet since I'me not certaine of my newes,
I would not stirre up in my subjects hearts
Vaine panique terrors, or this present night
Affright the City with a false alarme:
Let the haven be well guarded, and the wals,
And for this night it shall suffice.
D. ALONSO
enters againe.
Sir, the Count is dead,
Roderigo's hand has satisfied his father.
KING.
I divin'd what would follow, when I first
Heard of th'affront, and would ha' then prevented it
D. ALONSO.
Sir, here's Cimena, who presents her griefe
Upon her knees, with teares demanding justice.
KING.
Although my soule suffer with his misfortunes,
Th'affront he did, deserv'd the punishment,
Which though it were most just, yet can't I lose
Without regret, a servant of his merit.
SCENE V.
KING. D. ARIAS. D. DIEGO. CIMENA. D. SANCHO. D. ALONSO.CIMENA.
Justice, Sir, Justice, I aske it on my knees.
D. DIEGO.
O Sir give eare to my defence.
CIMENA.
Revenge my fathers death.
D. DIEGO.
Of him that punisht the highest insolence.
CIMENA.
Roderigo, Sir,
D. DIEGO.
Has done the office of an honest man.
CIMENA.
Has kill'd my father.
D. DIEGO.
Has reveng'd his owne.
CIMENA.
A King owes justice to his subjects bloud.
D. DIEGO.
A just revenge can feare no punishment.
KING.
Rise both of you, and speake without disturbance,
I beare a part, Cimena, in thy sufferings.
Trouble her not, when she has done, I'le heare you.
CIMENA.
My father's slaine, Sir, and these eyes have seene
Which has so oft preserv'd your wals, so oft
Been fir'd to gaine you battailes, and which yet
Reakes with just anger, to have beene spilt for any
But you the King, which war durst never draw,
Roderigo in your Court has made to flow
Upon the earth, and for his first essay,
Has tane away the firme prop of your State,
Breathlesse, and pale, I came unto the place,
And found him dead! Dead! pardon Sir, my griefe,
My voyce does faile mee, let my teares speake the rest.
KING.
Daughter, take comfort, and be confident
Thou hast a King will be a Father to thee.
CIMENA.
You'ave done my miseries, Sir, too much honour.
Thither I came amaz'd, and found him dead,
He spoke nought to me, but the more to move me,
His spilt bloud wrote my duty on the dust.
Rather his worth reduc'd to that poore State,
Spoke to me through his wound and hasten'd me
To this pursuite, and to be heard the better,
Of the most just of Kings, borrow'd my voyce.
Suffer not Sir, such rage to passe unpunisht
Before your eyes, and let not heady youth,
Lave themselves in the bloud of your best Souldiers,
And brave their memories. If you permit it,
You'le have, but few that will desire to serve you,
In fine my Father's dead, I demaund justice
Rather for yours, than my owne interest,
You are ingag'd i'th'losse of such a man,
Revenge it then, and require bloud for bloud.
Sacrifice D. Diego, and his familie
To your selfe, to the people, to Castile,
What can be deare enough to satisfie
For my dead Father?
D. Diego answer.
D. DIEGO.
How happy is the man Sir?
Who parts no sooner with his strength than life,
Since to the valiant, age is most unhappy
Accompanied with weaknesse; I that have
Gotten such glory by my former actions,
Whom victory has ever wayted on
See my selfe now, for having liv'd too long
Affronted, and orecome. And that which neither
Combat, nor siege, nor ambushes could doe,
Nor all your enemies, nor mine to boot,
The pride of one man in your Court has done
Almost before your face, and sullied
The reverence, and honour of my age,
Advantag'd by his youth, and by my weaknesse,
And so Sir, these my haires which have growne white
Under my helmet, and my bloud, which has
So oft for you been spent, should ha'descended
Unto the grave with curelesse infamy.
Had I not got a Sonne to save my honour,
Who lending me his hand has slaine the Count.
If to shew courage, and a sense of wrong,
If to revonge a blow o'th face deserve
Severely to be punisht, let it fall
On me that tempest, what soer'e it be,
For the armes fault, we punish oft the head,
I am the head, Sir, he is but the arme,
And if Cimena doe complaine that he
Has slaine her Father, I must answer her,
Had I beene able, he had never done it.
Sacrifice then this head, which age will take,
The arme Sir, may hereafter doe you service.
And let Cimena's wrong be satisfied
At my owne bloud's expence, and I shall be
That dying with mine honour, I shall die
Without regret.
KING.
Th'affaire is of importance,
And merits to be heard in a full Counsell.
Don Sancho, wait upon Cimena home,
Don Diego's word shall be his surety.
Let his sonne be lookt out. I'le doe you justice.
CIMENA.
'Tis just great Sir to cut off murderers.
KING.
Daughter, take truce a little with your griefes.
CIMENA.
To give them truce, is to increase them more.
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