No More Learning

Elvire
Rest, Madame.

Chimene
Ah! Unfortunate at best
In the midst of such woe to talk of rest!
How will my sorrow ever now be lessened
If I cannot hate the cause, his fatal hand?
And what can I hope for, save pain eternal,
If I hate the crime, but love the criminal?

Elvire
He robs you of your father, yet you love him!

Chimene
Love is too slight, Elvire, I adore him;
My passion contends with my anger;
Deep in my enemy I find the lover;
I feel that despite resentment's dart,
Rodrigue still fights my father in my heart.
He attacks, presses on, yields, defends,
Now strong, now weak, again it ends:
Yet in this harsh struggle of the whole,
He tears apart my heart but not my soul;
And whatever power love has over me,
I shall not hesitate to do my duty;
I pass, unwavering, where honour leads,
Rodrigue is dear to me, his merit grieves;
My heart takes his part; yet, there's the head,
I know what I am, and that my father's dead.

Elvire
Will you pursue this?

Chimene
Ah! Cruel thought!
And cruel pursuit to which I'm forced!
I demand his head, and fear to win it:
My death will follow his, yet I must punish!

Elvire
Reject, Madame, so tragic a design;
Reject this law, tyrannical and blind.

Chimene
What!
My father, in my arms there, dying,
His blood seeks vengeance, and I unhearing!
My heart, shamefully lost, it now appears,
Shall owe him only vain and useless tears!
And the power of a seductive lover
Stifle with craven silence all my honour!

Elvire
Madame, believe me, you'll be forgiven
If you show less ire against a loved one;
Against such a suitor, you've done enough,
You've seen the King; don't press too much,
Don't persist in this strange act of will.

Chimene
My honour's there, I must be avenged, still;
However we pride ourselves on love's merit,
Excuse is shameful to a noble spirit.

Elvire
But you love Rodrigue, he cannot offend.

Chimene
I know it.

Elvire
Well then, what do you intend?

Chimene
To preserve my honour and end my woe,
Pursue him, see him slain, and die also.


Act III Scene IV (Rodrigue, Chimene, Elvire)

Rodrigue
Ah! Without pursuit, without legal strife,
Yours is the honour of ending my life.

Chimene
Elvire, where are we, and what do I see?
Rodrigue in my house! Rodrigue before me!

Rodrigue
Spare not my blood; taste, with no resistance,
The sweetness of my death and your vengeance.

Chimene
Alas!