 | The Second Part of The Cid |  |
ACT I.
SCENE I.
Infanta. Cimena.INFANTA.
Tell me Cimena and deal truly with me,
What makes you thus disdain to be a Queen,
Are the allurements of a Kingdome such
As they can hardly touch, lesse charm your heart?
No, I shall nere believe it, but must wonder
At your refusall: do you thank your Cid
With all his fortune, and the best effects
Of his great valour, can at any time
That from the King alone you must expect
Cid is as much a subject as thy selfe,
And though he lift thy fortune to a height
As great as any subjects, yet a thousand
Will side with thee, when this my brother offers
Will set thy beauties in a point to strike
The gazers eyes with envy, or amazement.
CIM.
Madam, tis true so great a Princes love
Might take another, though it cannot me,
And the false lustre of a Soveraigne greatnesse
May dazell any fond young Virgins eyes,
But for my own direction ile take lesse
Of their ambition, more of modesty,
And truly Madam, I shall never envy
Her who enjoyes the happinesse you offer,
The pomp of Thrones seems troublesome to me,
My desires draw themselves within their compasse,
And look no higher then their proper reach:
Equality does make the perfect match,
Unequall persons render the link so weak
That love can hardly make it hold together.
IN.
I know Cimena thy great modesty,
But let it not divert thee from a good
Sent from the hand of Heaven, and a King
That power, which gave thee such rare parts, would never
They should be streightned in a narrow fortune
It knows this fore-head's destin'd for a Crown
Which to confirme, it makes a Monarch know
That nought lesse then himselfe can suite thy merit
Though Cid have heretofore made thee his Idoll.
Dost think his love's not subject unto change
And that he must continue in his absence
As a great souldier, so a faithfull lover.
Whilst his ambition grows up with his fortune:
If ere he gain'd his glorious name of Cid,
He thought himself already worthy thee,
Dost think his heart will stay in the same bounds,
Now that all Spain, and other Nations
Admire and feare his valour? ah Cimena
Some thing perswades me that his hopes fly higher,
A throne will be the certain rock whereon
Thy so much boasted faith must finde its Tombe.
CIM.
Oh heavens, how handsomely she would surprize me
And ravish that from me her self would have!
Aside
I without doubt she loves him; and I know
She speaks more for herself then for the King:
Madam, if Roderigo leave Cimena
To give his heart unto a nobler love,
You shall perceive that she is one can suffer
With as much ease his lightnesse, as his absence.
IN.
But since thou hast the very same advantage
Serve thy selfe of it, and as his great honours
Alter his passions, so let thine Cimena
Take the same flight, and do not thinke thou shalt
For that, be calld inconstant or lesse faithfull,
Or that thy change should stick a crime upon thee,
The wils of Kings can render all things lawfull.
Besides thy fathers death may well excuse thee,
And I remember with how much constraint
Thou mad'st a promise of thy love to him
Which was no more then hope; the King has power
To cancell that, nor must thy vertue suffer
So great a stain as to preferre the man
Who kild thy father to the King.
CIM.
But Madam,
Before I gave consent, whilst his great love
Did lesse then my obedience, I resisted
Till in the end I saw I must obey
What the King will'd, he said, I must forget
His Crime and my revenge: your father Madam
Gave me into his hands, and since I am
His prisoner, the same bonds shall end my life
And fortune both at once.
IN.
But heare my reasons.
CIM.
To what purpose.
Should we dispute of what's resolv'd already?
IN.
Well you may think of it at better leasure.
Exit.
CIM.
Yes: and I know the object of my Choice:
If the Cids glory do put out his flame;
And that's great lustre quench the hoat of this
I shall not stay the progresse of his fortune,
Let him be on a Throne, me in my grave,
Yet if this head must ever weare a Crown
From none but Cid himselfe shall I accept it.
But what's the reason that he writes not to me?
I had some letters from him at the first,
When the same hand which was bedewd in bloud
Dry'd up my teares, but yet (alas) I feare
Least distance of our eyes estrange our hearts:
For of late (save the conquest of the Rebels)
I can heare nothing from him, he destroyes
His enemies and my hopes both at one time,
His glory makes him to forget his dutie;
But yet deare heart excuse my sad complaint
True love was never yet without some feare
Thou canst not be so generous and inconstant,
Come then my soule and make no longer triall
Both of my passion and my patience:
Come to deliver me from those my doubts
Or know that here I cannot live without thee.
SCENE II.
Don Sancho.[CIM.]
Who's this Don Sancho? what may his businesse be?
SAN.
The best of news unto the best of women.
CIM.
What news? Is Cid return'd?
SAN.
Not yet sweet Madam,
He's still expected, but a greater joy
Attends you, which will soon dispell these clouds,
How glorious is your fortune like to be?
CIM.
What? has he overcome his enemies?
Is he come home laden with Palmes and Lawrels?
SAN.
I heare his valor has assur'd our state,
But that is not the cause of this my visit.
CIM.
What's then my happinesse, pray let me know it.
SAN.
Madam advise but with your own perfections
Aske counsell of your eyes; and they will tell you
Gainst whom their quick & burning darts are thrown
They'l tell you that a King sprightly and young
Chooses to be a slave before himself:
And that he findes his chains so sweet and pleasant
He seems to have no will to reigne without you,
And I am sent to aske what he implores,
Be not then rigorous to your self and him,
But think what baits a Scepter carries in it,
And that 'twill ill become you to be cruell
When a Crown, and title of a Queen is offerd.
CIM.
Ime sure it lesse becomes thee to afflict me
With a discourse so hatefull, perjur'd man
Hast thou so little shame, and courage in thee
To speake this and not blush; hast thou forgot
The glory of thy bonds; and that my self
Permitted thee to weare em, whilst my pitty
Made my looks gracious to thee, couldst thou then
Having been once a Lover, proud to be so,
Speak for another now, and that I should
For thy sake take his love into my heart.
Thou shewst by this thy basenesse, how unworthy
Was Roderigoes rivall, since thou canst not
Preserve the honour which thou hadst, for once
To have been his Competitor.
SAN.
Did I think
That you bore any thoughts of love to me,
Or that th'impression of my former flame
Were not quite worn out of your heart, I should not
Speak for the King a word, but for my self,
And you should see by my great constancie,
How much Ide cherish such a hope.
What traitour
Should I love thee? canst thou imagine it?
Or tempt thy self with such a vanity;
I never yet receiv'd a flame so hatefull
And if I thought my heart could entertain it,
Ide pull it out my self: but canst thou have
The confidence, Don Sancho to pretend
To what thou wert not able to defend;
Hast thou forgot the Duell where thou wert
Forc'd to bring me the sword thou vainly hadst
Imploy'd against the Cid, is it for that
Thou lay'st thy clayme to my affection?
For that must I preferre thee to the man
Whom the Moores feare, and Spaine does reverence?
Come let me heare thy action; were our enemies
Defeated by thy valour? Did the Moores
Yield themselves at the hearing of thy name?
Does thy arme hold our tottering Kingdome up?
Art thou the glory of it? prove it true
And I will run into thy deare embraces.
SAN.
Madam, I have not so much arrogance
To challenge to my self such mighty deeds.
My actions bound themselves more narrowly:
I never did defeat the Moores, my arme
Could nere do any thing worth your acceptance,
And yet it reaks not with your fathers bloud.
CIM.
Knows thy fierce rage no bounds, tak'st thou delight
To persecute me still, art thou not weary
To see my teares run? thou mightst easier draw
My bloud, and kill me with lesse cruelty.
Come make it perfect, and revenge thy shame
Upon my lives losse; yet let thy rage forbeare
To wrong that goodnesse, which has spar'd thy life.
In telling truth I offer no man wrong,
Nor did my rage suggest my words unto me
Your Designe's fair indeed, but your hope vain;
You care not how y'affront a Monarchs will;
Nor can you think that your Cid will be faithlesse,
You are the only she in all the Court
To whom his love's unknown, you have not heard
That Cordubas Infanta is his Mistris;
But he himself avows it in his letters,
Which he has done so to the life, that all
Believe he's lesse their enemy, then her lover.
CIM.
Well let th'Infanta come, let her instead
Of being captive be a conqueresse,
Let Cid that should be victor, be her slave,
It matters not, so I may have thy absence:
Ile wait th'effects of his inconstancie
With more assurance, and farre lesse disquiet,
Pray leave me, I demand it as a favour
And finde some better office when you next
Addresse your selfe to any; 'tis no shame
Not to have well discharg'd such an employment
As being done must needs betray thy honour.
SAN.
'Long as I serve my King, I feare no blame
But here's an end of this; I leave you Madam,
Till time shall make you to digest my counsaile.
In the mean while I'me silent, and obay.
Exit.
SCENE III.
King, Don Diego, Guard, and Attendants.KING.
Do not believe Don Diego, though I share
My heart and Crown with the belov'd Cimena,
That ile usurpe by my authority
A treasure which thy sonne deserv'd so well.
No, his great services do live too fresh
In my remembrance to be so requited:
Rather I mean t'augment his happinesse,
And his reward shall paralell his valour,
A nobler Mistris I designe for him
To whom Cimena without blushing may
Give place unto; nor should thy sonne complain
Of this my affection, or of that his change.
DIE.
But we have never sir deserv'd this honour,
Nor dare my sonne pretend to such a fortune,
A higher happinesse attends the Princesse,
Who is too generous to descend so low.
K.
His actions tell me that he merits more
Which to reward according to his value
A Scepter is too little; I will share
Love may content us both, if as my sister
Is willing to receive him for her servant,
So will the fair Cimena me for hers.
Don Sancho from me is gone to see her,
He knows her spirit, and should, how to tame it:
I hope well of his fair tongues good successe.
But why is he so slow in his return?
Since he is conscious of my neerest secrets
He must needs know that I burn all this while
And that his slownesse causes me to languish.
SCENE IV.
Don Sancho.DIE.
Your Majesty has no cause of further trouble,
See where he is.
K.
Oh Don Sancho welcome,
What says Cimena?
SAN.
All that rigour can
All that disdain and scorn does usually
Inspire proud spirits with, that cruell faire
Permitted to her tongue, my gentle words
Were spent in vain; the Northern wind would sooner
Has made her to all else inexorable
Nor can we hope to treat with her again.
As for a Crown, Scepter, or any greatnesse
They seem but to stirre up her anger more.
K.
What? will she be so cruell to her King?
I must abate the pride of that fierce humour,
And my resentment of t shall make her see
That Princes must be treated otherwise:
But these scorns her, Ile turn into her shame:
And Cid whom she believes her own already,
Shall as well fail her hopes, as she has mine
When a more worthy object shall invite him
To change his love, and his disdains of her
Shall revenge hers of me.
SCENE V.
Don Arias.[K.]
Don Arias,
What news is it you bring?
ARI.
Of Cids good fortune,
And of the Rebels fate, he is hard by
Victorious and in health.
K.
I long to see him
He is not farre sir from the City walls,
Mean-while this Letter will confirme your Majesty,
Ith' truth of what I said.
K.
How am I ravish'd
And my soule burns with hot impatience
After this object which she so desires,
Go tell him that my thoughts are swift to see him,
Don Diego see that he be well received.
| The Second Part of The Cid | |