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The Cid

A Tragicomedy
  
  
  
  
  

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ACT III.
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ACT III.

SCENE I.

D. RODERIGO. ELVIRA.
ELVIRA.
What meane you Roderigo? whither would you?

RODERIGO.
I would pursue the course of my sad fortune.

ELVIRA.
But this is a strange boldnesse, to appeare
In the same place which you have fill'd with mourning,
Come you t'affront the ghost of the dend Count?
Have not you slaine him?



RODERIGO.
His life was my disgrace,
Mine honour at my hands requir'd dis death.

ELVIRA.
But in the house of death to looke for refuge,
Did ever homicide make that his Asilum?

RODERIGO.
Did never any murderer present
Himselfe unto his Judge? ne're wonder at me,
I come to seeke for that I gave another,
That's death; my love Cimena is my Judge.
When I deserv'd her hate, I deserv'd death,
And for that cause I stand here to receive
My sentence from her mouth, death from her hand.

ELVIRA.
Flie rather from her sight, and doe not meet
With the first motions of her griefe and anger,
Why, would you more enflame her present passion?

RODERIGO.
No, that deare object which I durst displease,
To punish me cannot have too much passion;
I should be happy if I could augment it,
And hasten so my death from her faire hand.

ELVIRA.
Cimena's at the Court, bath'd in her teares,
And will returne thence with much company.
For heavens sake flie: what will mens censures say
If y'are discover'd here? they must report
Cimena t'have receiv'd into her house
Th'Assassin of her father. Harke, she comes,
It is her voice: at least, Roderigo,
To save her reputation, hide your selfe.



SCENE II.

D. SANCHO. CIMENA. ELVIRA.
D. SANCHO.
I madame, never thinke of any other
But bloudy sacrifices: your anger's just
And your griefe lawfull, for my part Madame
I'le neither goe about to pacifie
Or comfort you; but if my present service
Can be of use to you; imploy my Sword
To cut out your revenge; from your commands
My heart takes courage, and my arme its strength.

CIMENA.
O me unfortunate!

D. SANCHO.
Madame accept my service.

CIMENA.
I shall offend the King then who has promis'd
To doe me Justice.

D. SANCHO.
But you know, justice
Is so slow pac'd and languishing, that seldome
It overtakes the crime; the wrong was done
By th'sword, then let a Cavalier revenge it
By the sword againe: It is the readiest way.

CIMENA.
'Tis the last remedy, but if it must
Arive at that, and this your noble pitty
Of my misfortunes doe continue with you,
I shall then give you the freedom you desire.



D. SANCHO.
It is the onely happinesse I wish,
So having hopes to see't, I take my leave.

SCENE III.

Cimena. Elvira.
CIMENA.
At length I find I'me free to open to thee
The sadnesse of my soule, and to give way
to my deep sighs, which else would stifle me.
My fathers dead, Eluira, the first sword
That Roderigo us'd has cut his thred,
Weepe, weepe mine eyes, melt into teares my braine
Halfe of my life, the other halfe has slaine,
And ty's me to revenge on what is left,
That part of which by this I am berest.

Elvira.
Quiet your selfe, sweet Madame.

CIMENA.
How unfitly
Thou bid'st me to be quiet, when at once
I must bewaile my losse, and th'hand that made it,
Or what is't I can hope for in this life
But torments, neere to be redres'd by time,
If loving th'Author, I pursue the crime.

ELVIRA.
Can you then love the man that kill'd your Father?

CIMENA.
Love him, Eluira? more than that I adore him,
My love stands up against the sense, I should have


Of a slaine father, and would quite o're-beare it.
I finde my lover in mine enemie,
And spight of all my anger, in my heart
Roderigo makes his part good 'gainst my father:
Yet though my love has these advantages,
I'le not advise with it about my duty.
Nothing is dearer to me than Roderigo,
My heart would take his part, but then my honour
Tels me I had a father, which he slew.

ELVIRA.
But doe you meane to prosecute him, Madam?

CIMENA.
O cruell meaning! cruell prosecution!
To which I'me forc'd. I aske his head, and yet
Feare to obtaine it. I would ha him punish'd,
And yet my death, I know, must wait on his.

ELVIRA.
Fie, Madam, quit this tragicall designe,
Be not so cruell to your selfe.

CIMENA.
Shall I see
My father die betweene my armes? his bloud
Crying vengeance to me, and shan't I heare him?
Shall my heart thinke, because 'tis charm'd by love,
That nothing's due unto a fathers death
But childish teares? or shall I suffer love
To steale into my heart, and thrust out honour?

ELVIRA.
Beleeve me, Madam, you may well be pardon'd,
If you preserve unto your selfe a man
You cannot paralell, and one you love.
Y'have done enough to ha'beene with the King,
Ne're presse it farther, be not obstinate.

CIMENA.
Then is my glory lost; no, it behoves
I be reveng'd.



ELVIRA.
But you love Roderigo,
He can't displease you.

CIMENA.
No I'le sweare he can't.

ELVIRA.
These things consider'd, Madam, what can you doe?

CIMENA.
To save mine honour, and to put an end
To all my griefes at once, I am resolv'd
First to pursue him unto death, and then
To die my selfe.

SCENE IV.

RODERIGO to them.
RODERIGO.
To save the trouble of
Pursuing me, behold I'me here before you,
Glut your selfe with the pleasure of my death.

CIMENA.
What place is this, Elvira? who is this?
Roderigo in my house! before my face!

RODERIGO.
Spare not my bloud, but taste the sweetnesse of
My death, and your revenge, without resistance.

CIMENA.
Aye me!

RODERIGO.
Heare me Cimena.



CIMENA.
I dye.

RODERIGO.
A word

CIMENA.
Away and let me dye.

RODERIGO.
And afterwards
Make me no answer but with this my sword.

CIMENA.
That sword be smear'd with th'bloud of my dead father.

RODERIGO.
My Cimena

CIMENA.
Fye, take away that object
Which to myne eyes upbraids thy crime, and life.

RODERIGO.
Looke on it rather to increase thy hate
T'excite thine anger, and to speed my death.

CIMENA.
'Tis dy'd in my owne bloud.

RODERIGO.
Plunge it in mine,
And make it lose the colour so of thine.

CIMENA.
What cruelty is this, which in one day
Father and daughter both deprives of life,
One by the sword, the other by the sight?
Remove that object of my hate, thy sword,
Thou would'st be heard of her thou mean'st to kill.

RODERIGO.
I doe obey, yet with the same desire
To dye by thee. For from my affection
Never expect a cowardly repentance
Of a good action, the box o'th eare
Thy father gave, dishonor'd mine, thou know'st


How home that touches any man of spirit,
I shar'd in the affront and went to seeke
The Author, having found him I reveng'd
Mine and my fathers honor: wer't to doe
Againe I'de do't, yet thinke not but thy love
Held out against my father, and my selfe,
A combat long enough, and made me doubt
Whether I should displease thee or sit down
By th'injury receav'd. I held my hand
And blam'd my selfe for too much violence:
And without doubt thy beauty had o're sway'd,
Had I not cast in ballance, that a man
Dishonor'd never could be worthy thee,
That she who lov'd me when my fame stood cleare,
Would hate me, stain'd with infamy. 'Tis true,
I did thee an affront, and 'tis as true
I ought to doe it both to save my honor
And merit thee. But having thus acquitted
My father and my selfe, 'tis onely you
That I now come to satisfie, and make
A present of my bloud. I know the thought
Of a slaine father, armes thy hate against mee,
Nor will I rob thee of thy sacrifice
Here, offer to the blood already shed
The blood of him, that glories to have shed it,

CIMENA.
True Roderigo, (though thine enemy)
That thou did'st shun disgrace, I cannot blame thee,
And whatsoever face my griefes put on
I not accuse thee, but my owne misfortune.
I know what honour, after such an out rage,
Demaund's of any brave and generous spirit.
Thou did'st thy duty but in doeing it
Thou t'aught'st me mine. The same regard thou had'st
To vindicate thine owne, and fathers honor
Fall's now on me, and the more t'afflict me


Of thee I must require, what I have lost;
It is thy interest makes me despaire,
Had any other hand, or sad misfortune
Depriv'd me of my father, I had found
My comfort in thy sight, the onely charme
Against my griefes: When by so deare a hand
My teares had beene wip'd off: but now I must
Lose him and thee too, and what's more cruell,
I'me bound my selfe to labour thy destruction,
For never looke from my affection
The least resentment for thy punishment;
For though our love would speak in favour of thee,
Mine honour yet must goe as high as thine;
Thou in my wrong shewd'st thy selfe worthy me,
I in thy death will appeare worthy thee.

RODERIGO.
Never deferre then longer what your honour
Requires of you. It demands my head,
To stay till justice give't you, will delay
As well your glory, as my punishment.
I shall die happy, dying by your hand.

CIMENA.
Away, I'me thy accuser, not thy heads-man,
Is't fit for me to take the head thou offer'st?
'Tis of another that I must obtaine it;
I must pursue thy crime, not punish it.

RODERIGO.
Though love speake to thee in my favour, yet
The brav'ry of thy minde ought to answer mine,
Which trust me (my Cimena) cannot be,
If to revenge thou borrow'st other hands.
For my revenge I us'd none but my owne,
And thou for thine, must use thy hand alone.

CIMENA.
Cruell! to be so obstinate in this,
If without helpe thou did'st revenge thy selfe,


Why do'st thou offer't me? I'le follow thee,
My courage is too great to let thee beare
The least part in my glory, neither shall
Mine, or my fathers honour stoop so low
As to thy love, or thy despaire to owe.

RODERIGO.
Hard point of honour! can I by no way
Obtaine this grace? punish me in the name
Of thy dead father, or our dearest love,
Either do't in revenge, or else in pity.
'Twill to thy lover prove a gentler fate,
To die thus by thy hand, than to live with thy hate.

CIMENA.
Away, I hate thee not.

RODERIGO.
Thou ought'st to hate me.

CIMENA.
I can't.

RODERIGO.
But fear'st thou not the blame and scandall
Which men will raise, when they shall know my crime,
And the continuance of thy love; no, rather
Force 'um to silence, and without more words,
By my death give thy reputation life.

CIMENA.
It will live better, if I let thee live;
I'le ha' the voice of the most blacke mouth'd envie
Admire my glory, and pitty my hard sufferings,
When they shall know, that though I love thy person,
I prosecute thy crime. Goe Rodorigo,
And let the darknesse of the night conceale
Thy parting hence, mine honour cannot runne
A greater hazzard, than if men shall know
That I have kept thee company so long.

RODERIGO.
'Tis death to heart this.



CIMENA.
Away.

RODERIGO.
But what, are you resolv'd to doe.

CIMENA.
Spight of this loving fire which would restraine
That of my anger, I shall doe my best
To have full vengeance for my fathers death,
And yet in spight of this so cruell honor,
My desire is to have my desires crost.

RODERIGO.
O miracle of love!

CIMENA.
But heap'd with griefes.

RODERIGO.
How many teares will these our fathers cost us?

CIMENA.
Who would ha' thought it Roderigo?

RODERIGO.
Cimena would ha' said it?

CIMENA.
That our joyes
Should be so nigh us and so quickly lost.

RODERIGO.
And that so neere the Port a suddaine storme
Should shipwrack all our hopes.

CIMENA.
Goe Roderigo,
And thinke I cannot, dare not, heare thee longer.

RODERIGO.
I goe then to draw out a dying life,
Till thy pursuit shall bring it to an end.

CIMENA.
If I obtaine th'effect, I sadly vow
Not to draw breath one minute after thee,
Adieu, and have a care thou be not seene.



SCENE V.

D. Diego. D. Roderigo.
D. DIEGO.
At length I see what all my industry
Could not effect, chance offers to me, this
Must be my Sonne. Roderigo, blest be Heaven
That gives me leave to see thee.

RODERIGO.
Ay me!

D. DIEGO.
Doe not confound my joyes with these sad accents,
But give me leave to praise thy early Valour,
Which shewes the noble stock from which thou sprang'st
The first stroke of thy sword, has equall'd all
That mine could doe, and thy brave youthfull spirit,
Has reach'd the glory of thy Ancestors.
Prop of my age, and fulnesse of my joy,
Touch these white hayres, whose honor thou hast sav'd,
Come kisse this cheeke; and view the place which thou
Being affronted, rescud'st from disgrace.

RODERIGO.
The honor's due to you, heaven be my witnesse
That comming from you, I could doe no lesse,
I hold my selfe most happy, that the first
Triall of my poore valour should please him
To whom I owe my life, but in these pleasures


Have not a jealousie of me, because
After you, I dare satisfie my selfe
Give me leave to despaire; 'tis all I aske.
Let not your praise flatter me out of that.

D. DIEGO.
Fy, from so brave a heart banish this weaknesse,
Thinke there are Mistrisses enough ith'world,
But no more than one honour; love, is but
A little pleasure, honour is a duty.

RODERIGO.
What say you, Sir?

D. DIEGO.
That which thou ought'st to know.

RODERIGO.
Would you then shame me with inconstancy,
A coward Souldier, and a perjur'd Lover,
Run the same course of infamy alike.
Cannot I be thought generous unlesse
I be perfidious. Alas my bonds
Are too fast ty'd, to be so soone undone
And since I can nor have, nor leave my love,
The death I meane to seeke is my best comfort.

D. DIEGO.
This is no time to seeke out death. Thy King,
Thy Country needs thy aid, the Fleet wee fear'd
That enter'd on the River, is now ready
To take the City by surprise. The Moores
Are come in silence almost to our wals,
The Court is in an uproare, and the people
Call to take armes. Nothing but cries are heard
I'th mid'st of these calamities, my fortune
Has favor'd me so much to let me see,
Five hundred of my frinds, within my house,
Who hearing of the affront was given me,
Offer'd their lives to vindicate mine honour,
Thou hast prevented them, but their brave valours


Will better be imployed against the Moores;
Goe march i'th head of them; where honour cals thee,
Impeach the landing of the enemy.
And if thou must seeke death, goe find it there;
But rather Crown'd with victory returne,
And by thy valour force ev'n justice selfe
To pardon, and Cimena to be silent,
If thou do'st love her, thinke thy comming home
A Conquerour, must regaine her heart, or nothing.
But time's too precious to be spent in talke,
I stay thee in discourse, when thou should'st fly,
Come follow mee to my house: Let the King see
What he has lost ith'Count, he has found in thee.