The Cid Part 4

_Don Sancho._ I obey, and am silent; but in pity, sire, [permit] two words in his defence.

_Don Fernando._ And what can you say?

_Don Sancho._ That a soul accustomed to n.o.ble actions cannot lower itself to apologies. It does not imagine any which can be expressed without _shame;_ and it is that word alone that the Count resists. He finds in his duty a little too much severity, and he would obey you if he had less heart. Command that his arm, trained in war's dangers, repair this injury at the point of the sword: he will give satisfaction, sire; and, come what may, until he has been made aware of your decision, here am I to answer for him.

_Don Fernando._ You fail [_lit._ you are losing] in respect; but I pardon youth, and I excuse enthusiasm in a young, courageous heart. A king, whose prudence has better objects in view [than such quarrels], is more sparing of the blood of his subjects. I watch over mine; my [watchful] care protects them, as the head takes care of the limbs which serve it. Thus your reasoning is not reasoning for me. You speak as a soldier--I must act as a king; and whatever others may wish to say, or he may presume to think, the Count will not part with [_lit._ cannot lose] his glory by obeying me. Besides, the insult affects myself: he has dishonored him whom I have made the instructor of my son. To impugn my choice is to challenge me, and to make an attempt upon the supreme power. Let us speak of it no more. And now, ten vessels of our old enemies have been seen to hoist their flags; near the mouth of the river they have dared to appear.

_Don Arias._ The Moors have by force [of arms] learned to know you, and, so often vanquished, they have lost heart to risk their lives [_lit._ themselves] any more against so great a conqueror.

_Don Fernando._ They will never, without a certain amount of jealousy, behold my sceptre, in spite of them, ruling over Andalusia; and this country, so beautiful, which they too long enjoyed, is always regarded by them with an envious eye. This is the sole reason which has caused us, for the last ten years, to place the Castilian throne in Seville, in order to watch them more closely, and, by more prompt action, immediately to overthrow whatever [design] they might undertake.

_Don Arias._ They know, at the cost of their n.o.blest leaders [_lit._ most worthy heads], how much your presence secures your conquests; you have nothing to fear.

_Don Fernando._ And nothing to neglect--too much confidence brings on danger; and you are not ignorant that, with very little difficulty, the rising tide brings them hither. However, I should be wrong to cause a panic in the hearts [of the citizens], the news being uncertain. The dismay which this useless alarm might produce in the night, which is approaching, might agitate the town too much. Cause the guards to be doubled on the walls and at the fort; for this evening that is sufficient.

Scene VII.--DON FERNANDO, DON ALONZO, DON SANCHO, and DON ARIAS.

_Don Alonzo._ Sire, the Count is dead. Don Diego, by his son, has avenged his wrong.

_Don Fernando._ As soon as I knew of the insult I foresaw the vengeance, and from that moment I wished to avert this misfortune.

_Don Alonzo._ Chimene approaches to lay her grief at your feet [_lit._ brings to your knees her grief]; she comes all in tears to sue for justice from you.

_Don Fernando._ Much though my soul compa.s.sionates her sorrows, what the Count has done seems to have deserved this just punishment of his rashness. Yet, however just his penalty may be, I cannot lose such a warrior without regret. After long service rendered to my state, after his blood has been shed for me a thousand times, to whatever thoughts his [stubborn] pride compels me, his loss enfeebles me, and his death afflicts me.

Scene VIII.--DON FERNANDO, DON DIEGO, CHIMeNE, DON SANCHO, DON ARIAS, and DON ALONZO.

_Chimene._ Sire, sire, justice!

_Don Diego._ Ah, sire, hear us!

_Chimene._ I cast myself at your feet!

_Don Diego._ I embrace your knees!

_Chimene._ I demand justice.

_Don Diego._ Hear my defence.

_Chimene._ Punish the presumption of an audacious youth: he has struck down the support of your sceptre--he has slain my father!

_Don Diego._ He has avenged his own.

_Chimene._ To the blood of his subjects a king owes justice.

_Don Diego._ For just vengeance there is no punishment.

_Don Fernando._ Rise, both of you, and speak at leisure. Chimene, I sympathize with your sorrow; with an equal grief I feel my own soul afflicted. (_To Don Diego._) You shall speak afterwards; do not interrupt her complaint.

_Chimene._ Sire, my father is dead! My eyes have seen his blood gush forth from his n.o.ble breast--that blood which has so often secured your walls--that blood which has so often won your battles--that blood which, though all outpoured, still fumes with rage at seeing itself shed for any other than for you! Rodrigo, before your very palace, has just dyed [_lit._ covered] the earth with that [blood] which in the midst of dangers war did not dare to shed! Faint and pallid, I ran to the spot, and I found him bereft of life. Pardon my grief, sire, but my voice fails me at this terrible recital; my tears and my sighs will better tell you the rest!

_Don Fernando._ Take courage, my daughter, and know that from to-day thy king will serve thee as a father instead of him.

_Chimene._ Sire, my anguish is attended with too much [unavailing]

horror! I found him, I have already said, bereft of life; his breast was pierced [_lit._ open], and his blood upon the [surrounding] dust dictated [_lit._ wrote] my duty; or rather his valor, reduced to this condition, spoke to me through his wound, and urged me to claim redress; and to make itself heard by the most just of kings, by these sad lips, it borrowed my voice. Sire, do not permit that, under your sway, such license should reign before your [very] eyes; that the most valiant with impunity should be exposed to the thrusts of rashness; that a presumptuous youth should triumph over their glory, should imbrue himself with their blood, and scoff at their memory! If the valiant warrior who has just been torn from you be not avenged, the ardor for serving you becomes extinguished. In fine, my father is dead, and I demand vengeance more for your interest than for my consolation. You are a loser in the death of a man of his position. Avenge it by another's, and [have] blood for blood! Sacrifice [the victim] not to me, but to your crown, to your greatness, to yourself! Sacrifice, I say, sire, to the good of the state, all those whom such a daring deed would inflate with pride.

_Don Fernando._ Don Diego, reply.

_Don Diego._ How worthy of envy is he who, in losing [life's] vigor, loses life also! And how a long life brings to n.o.bly minded men, at the close of their career, an unhappy destiny! I, whose long labors have gained such great renown--I, whom hitherto everywhere victory has followed--I see myself to-day, in consequence of having lived too long, receiving an insult, and living vanquished. That which never battle, siege, or ambuscade could [do]--that which Arragon or Granada never could [effect], nor all your enemies, nor all my jealous [rivals], the Count has done in your palace, almost before your eyes, [being] jealous of your choice, and proud of the advantage which the impotence of age gave him over me. Sire, thus these hairs, grown grey in harness [i.e.

toils of war]--this blood, so often shed to serve you--this arm, formerly the terror of a hostile army, would have sunk into the grave, burdened with disgrace, if I had not begotten a son worthy of me, worthy of his country, and worthy of his king! He has lent me his hand--he has slain the Count--he has restored my honor--he has washed away my shame!

If the displaying of courage and resentment, if the avenging of a blow deserves chastis.e.m.e.nt, upon me alone should fall the fury of the storm.

When the arm has failed, the head is punished for it. Whether men call this a crime or not requires no discussion. Sire, I am the head, he is the arm only. If Chimene complains that he has slain her father, he never would have done that [deed] if I could have done it [myself].

Sacrifice, then, this head, which years will soon remove, and preserve for yourself the arm which can serve you. At the cost of my blood satisfy Chimene. I do not resist--I consent to my penalty, and, far from murmuring at a rigorous decree, dying without dishonor, I shall die without regret.

_Don Fernando._ The matter is of importance, and, calmly considered, it deserves to be debated in full council. Don Sancho, re-conduct Chimene to her abode. Don Diego shall have my palace and his word of honor as a prison. Bring his son here to me. I will do you justice.

_Chimene._ It is just, great king, that a murderer should die.

_Don Fernando._ Take rest, my daughter, and calm thy sorrows.

_Chimene._ To order me rest is to increase my misfortunes.

ACT THE THIRD.

Scene I.--DON RODRIGO and ELVIRA.

_Elvira._ Rodrigo, what hast them done? Whence comest thou, unhappy man?

_Don Rodrigo._ Here [i.e. to the house of Chimene], to follow out the sad course of my miserable destiny.

_Elvira._ Whence obtainest thou this audacity, and this new pride, of appearing in places which thou hast filled with mourning? What! dost thou come even here to defy the shade of the Count? Hast thou not slain him?

_Don Rodrigo._ His existence was my shame; my honor required this deed from my [reluctant] hand.

_Elvira._ But to seek thy asylum in the house of the dead! Has ever a murderer made such his refuge?

_Don Rodrigo._ And I come here only to yield myself to my judge. Look no more on me with astonishment [_lit._ an eye amazed]; I seek death after having inflicted it. My love is my judge; my judge is my Chimene. I deserve death for deserving her hatred, and I am come to receive, as a supreme blessing, its decree from her lips, and its stroke from her hand.

_Elvira._ Fly rather from her sight, fly from her impetuosity; conceal your presence from her first excitement. Go! do not expose yourself to the first impulses which the fiery indignation of her resentment may give vent to.