University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

Count. Elvira.
Elvira.
'Mongst all the youthfull lovers which adore
Your daughters beauty, and implore my aid,
Don Roderigo and Don Sancho strive
Who shall shew most the fire her beauties rais'd.
But yet Cimena is indifferent
To both their loves, and with an equall eye
Beholds them both, nor does she take away
Or adde ought to their hopes, but still expects
A husband from your choice alone design'd.

Count.
She dost her duty, both of them deserve her,
Both sprung from brave and noble families,
Both young, yet such as in their faces shew
Th'illustrious vertue of their Ancestors,
But above all, in Roderigo's Pace
There's not a line which speaks not a brave man;
His family has been fruitfull still in souldiers,
As if they had beene borne ith'midst of lawrels.
His fathers valour, in his time, unequall'd,
(Whil'st his strength lasted) was a prodigie.
The furrowes in his fore-head seeme to be
Th'ingravements of his noble actions,
And Roderigo's person seemes to promise
The vertues of his father. In conclusion,
My daughter if she love him shall please me;
Goe entertaine her with it, but be sure
You hide m'intentions, and discover hers,
At my returne wee'le speake of it together,
Time cals me now to wait upon the Councell,
Where the King meanes to chuse a Governour
Unto the Prince his sonne, or rather seat me
In that high-place of honour, for my merits
Forbid me to expect an opposition.

SCENE II.

Elvira. Cimena.
Elvira.
How welcome newes will this be to our lovers?
How fortune has provided, that all things
Should sort to their contentment?

Cimena.
How now Elvira?
What in conclusion must I hope or feare?
What must become of me? what sayes my father?

Elvira.
Onely two words, enough to charme your senses,
You cannot love Roderigo, more than he
Does value him.

Cimena.
Prithee speake truth Elvira,
Th'excesse of this my happinesse does stagger
My faith in it; may I beleeve thy words?

Elvira.
Nay he went farther, he approves his love,
And will command you meet with his desires,
This you will finde 'soone as the Councell rises,
And that Don Diego meeting time, and place
Fit for his purpose, shall propose the businesse;
Feare not but your desires will be contented.

Cimena.
I cannot tell, but yet me thinks my soule
Does not receive this joy; but all confounded
Expects what moment will present to me
A divers face from this my happinesse,
And crosse my present fortune.

Elvira.
You will finde
This feare of yours most happily deceiv'd.

Cimena.
Well, let us goe then, and attend the issue.

SCENE III.

Infanta. Leonora. Page.
Infanta.
Goe boy, looke out Cimena, and from me
Tell her, her presence was expected sooner,
My friendship must complaine of this her sloth.

Leonora.
I perceive, Madame, that all dayes alike
You're sad and pensive, and the same desire
To know how her love goes, still presses you.

Infanta.
How should it not? when I my selfe have made her
Receive the hurt wherewith her soule is wounded,
She loves Don Roderigo by my meanes,
And by my meanes he has vanquisht her disdaine,
Then since to take 'um I have laid the snare,
To free 'um unto me belongs the care.

Leonora.
And yet i'th midst of all their good successe
One may perceive in you a kinde of sorrow;
Why should that love which lifts them up with joy
Weigh your great heart downe with a heavie sadnesse,
And th'interest which you have in their love,
Make you unhappy, when themselves are blest?
But I'me too forward, and grow indiscreet.

Infanta.
To stifle it increases more my griefe!
Leonora, thou shalt know it, and now heare
What a strange conflict I have had within me,
And when th'hast heard it, pittying my weaknesse,
Admire my vertue, love is such a Tyrant
As will spare none, this Gentleman, this lover
Which I've bestow'd on her, I love my selfe.

Leonora.
You Madame?

Infanta.
Lay thy hand upon my heart
And feele now how it pants at th'hearing of
The name of its owne Conquerour.

Leonora.
Pardon me, Madam,
If blaming of your love, I doe forget
My due respect; is he a match for you,
A private Gentleman? can you a Princesse
In a point of such consequence forget
Whose child you are? what will the King say, think you?
Doe you remember, Madam, whose you are?

Infanta.
Yes, yes, Leonora, and will rather die
Than doe a thing unworthy of my birth:
Though I could tell thee that in noble soules
Merit alone ought to produce true love,
And if my passion would flie to excuses,
Many examples might authorize it,
Yet I'le not follow that in which my honour
Must be ingag'd. If I have much of love,
I have much more of courage, and me thinks
A noble true disdaine tels me than I,
The daughter of a King, should deeme all others
Below my love, unlesse it were a Monarch:
But when I see my heart is not of force
To make its owne defence, I give away
That which I dare not take: 'stead of my selfe
I put Cimena fast into his fetters,
And kindle their fire to put out mine owne.
Be not amaz'd then, if with distraction
I still expect their marriage; you see
All my repose onely depends on it,
If love doe live on hope, it dies with it;
'Tis a fire, that not nourish'd will goe out,
And spight of my ill fortune, if Cimena
Marry Don Roderigo, my long hopes
Dying, my minde will be at ease; till then
I'me still in torment; till his day of marriage
Roderigo is my love, whom though I labour
To lose, I cannot chuse but grieve to lose him;
I finde my soule divided in two parts,
My heart with honour fir'd as well as love:
This Hymen's fatall, I both wish, and feare it.
Nor can I hope for any perfect joy,
Since whether he obtaine his love, or no,
So many baits my love and honour have,
In stead of comfort I must finde a grave.

Leonora.
After this, Madam, I have nought to say,
Unlesse it be to grieve for your misfortunes,
Before I blam'd you, now I pitty you:
But since your vertue has made good it selfe,
So strongly 'gainst the powerfull charmes and force
Of love and honour, and beat backe th'assault
Of this, and bait of that, in a short time
'Twill give you ease of all, in the meane while
Cast your firm hope on heaven, which has more justice
Than to let virtue be a sufferer long.

Infanta.
My best of hopes is to cast off all hope.

Page.
Madam, Cimena's come, as you commanded.

Infanta.
Goe, entertaine her in the Gallery.

Leonora.
But will you still remaine in these sad fancies.

Infanta.
No, I will 'spight of all my griefe, put on
A face of gladnesse. Goe, I'le follow you
Just heaven, from whence I doe expect my aid,
Put now at length some period to my evils;
Assure mine honour with some ease of love,
I seeke my happinesse in anothers blisse,
To which give speed good heaven, or more strength
To my yet feeble soule, which n'ere can be
(Till Hymen have bound them) at liberty.

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,
The splendor of this honour newly done you
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
(Though to my valour they're prefer'd by some)
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.

D. Diego.
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,
And though he love Cimena, yet 'tis fit
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?

SCENE V.

Roderigo. Diego.
Roderigo.
Any man but my father
Should quickly finde I have.

Diego.
Well said, my boy,
I nowe perceive my bloud runnes in thy veines,
This noble anger sayes thou art my sonne;
My youth revives in me from this thy heat.
Thou shalt revenge me sonne.

Roderigo.
Of what, or whom?

Diego.
Of an affront so cruell, that our honours
Suffer together in it. 'Twas, Roderigo,
A box o'th'eare, which on th'insolent giver
I had reveng'd, but that my feeble age
Fail'd my strong heart. This sword then, which my arm
Knew not to weild, take thou, and with it punish
The arrogant that wrong'd me, and be sure
Thou kill, or die, for such a staine as this
Is never washt, but in the offenders bloud.
But let me tell thee, I doe send thee now
To combat with a man whom I have seene
All on a goare, in midst of a fought battell,
Making himselfe a Rampire of slaine men.

Roderigo.
Pray Sir his Name, let him be what he will.

D. Diego.
To tell thee more then; besides that he is
The bravest souldier, and the best Commander
That I have seene; he is—

Roderigo.
For heavens sake what?

D. Diego.
The father to Cimena.

Roderigo.
The?

D. Diego.
Reply not,
I know thy love, but yet remember sonne,
He that can live contemn'd, doth not deserve
To breath an houre; thou know'st th'affront was given
To me, to thee I leave the just revenge;
The sense of honour, and the fire that springs
From thence, should put out the lesse heat of love;
Revenge me, and thy selfe, shew thy selfe worthy
Of me thy father, now o're-borne with miseries,
Which whilst I goe to moane, haste thou to punish.

SCENE VI.

Roderigo
alone.
Strooke to the very heart, with a blow as fatall
As un-foreseene; what shall I doe? I must
Revenge my father, and provoke my mistresse,
Either betray my honour, or my love,
It were a better choice for me to die
Than to doe either:
If I revenge my father, I must lose
My love; if not, I must live infamous;
How can I live, having lost all I live for?
But infamy pursues me after death.
On then my soule, and rather chuse to die
Losing thy love, than live ingloriously,
And start not at the name of the offender,
Because he is the father of thy mistresse,
But rather thinke thine owne receiv'd the offence,
And thou art bound to give the recompence.