No More Learning

March at their head, the post of honour;
Their noble troop asks for you as leader.
Go: halt the foe's first expense of breath,
If you wish to die, there lies noble death.
Seize this chance, since it is offered freely;
To your loss the king may owe his safety.
Yet rather return with laurel on your brow.
Let glory be more than mere vengeance now,
Carry it further, let valour influence
The king to pardon, and Chimene to silence;
If you love her, then return the victor,
The one way that is left to you to win her.
But time is too precious to be wasted thus;
I'll forgo speech, wishing you to leave us.
Come, follow me, go fight, and show your king
What he lost with the Count, you again bring.

End of Act III


Act IV Scene I (Chimene, Elvire)

Chimene
Are the rumours true, Elvire? Are you sure?

Elvire
You'd never believe how he's admired, or
How with one voice, they praise them so,
The glorious deeds of this young hero.
The Moors before him, in their shame, scatter;
Their landing's swift, their flight is swifter;
Three hours of battle gave our warriors
A total victory, two kings as prisoners.
Our leader's courage leapt all obstacles.

Chimene
And Rodrigue's arm performed these miracles?

Elvire
Through his efforts those two kings were won;
His hand conquered them, he was the one.

Chimene
From whom did you learn this latest news?
Elvire
From those who shout his praises, those who
Call him their joy's object and its author,
Their guardian angel and their liberator.

Chimene
And the King, how does he view such valour?

Elvire
Rodrigue has not yet dared to appear before
Him, but Don Diegue, in his son's name
Presented him with the captive kings in chains,
And has asked a favour of the noble prince,
To receive the warrior who saved a province.

Chimene
But is he wounded?

Elvire
Of that there's nothing.
You've changed colour! Collect your feelings.

Chimene
Then let me re-collect past wrath also:
Though loving, must I forget myself so?
He's praised, acclaimed: witness my consent!
My honour's mute, my duty impotent!
Silence, Love: oh, see my anger, rather:
Though he conquers kings, he killed a father;
This dress of black that reveals my pallor,
Was the first outcome of all his valour;
And whatever's said elsewhere, at this time,
Here everything speaks to me of his crime.
You that give such force to my resentments,
Veil, crepe, dress, you sorrowful ornaments,
Things that his first deed has forced on me,
Against my love now, sustain my glory,
And when that love exhibits all its power,
Speak then of my sad duty by the hour,
Fear nothing, be this conqueror's attacker.

Elvire
Compose yourself, here comes the Infanta.


Act IV Scene II (The Infanta, Chimene, Leonor, Elvire)

Infanta
I come not to console you now; be clear,
Rather I come to mingle sigh with tear.

Chimene
You should rather take part in all this joy,
Blessing the grace the Heavens employ,
Madame, no one but me deserves to suffer.
Rodrigue has saved us all from great danger,
And kept the people safe, the nearest way,
Leaving me alone to weep, on this day:
He's saved the city: he has served his king;
Only to me his blade's a fatal thing.