No More Learning

Heavens! What sighs aspire
To rise from my loving heart,
If it must endlessly grieve and suffer
Not quench its love, nor accept its lover!

Yet it's too harsh, and my reason's stunned
By my scorn for such a lover:
Though birth reserves me for kings alone,
Rodrigue I'll bow to your law with honour.
Over two kings the victor,
How then could you lack a crown?
Does the title of Cid, your recent gain,
Not clearly show over whom you'll reign?

He's worthy of me, but made for Chimene;
The gift I gave proves my ruin.
Her father's death brings them, I maintain,
So little hatred, sad she pursues him.
I must hope no harm's ensuing,
From his crime, or from my pain,
Since, to punish, destiny agrees
That love live on so, between enemies.


Act V Scene III (Infanta, Leonor)

Infanta
Why here, Leonor?

Leonor
To rejoice, Lady,
At this repose your soul finds, finally.

Infanta
Whence should such peace arise to quench my pain?

Leonor
If love lives on hope, and dies with it again,
Rodrigue can no longer quench your courage.
You know the duel that Chimene would stage;
Since he will die, or else they will be wed,
Your heart is freed, as your hope is dead.

Infanta
Oh! Far from that!
Leonor
To what can you pretend?

Infanta
Rather, from what shall I myself defend?
If Rodrigue duels accepting such conditions,
I have many means to alter their intentions.
Love, sweet author of my cruel anguish,
Shows lovers' minds many an artifice.

Leonor
What can you work, if a father's merit
Rouses no discord between their spirits?
For Chimene shows readily by her action,
That hate no longer fuels his prosecution.
She's granted combat, and for combatant
Accepted the first offer made that instant.
She'd no recourse to that nobility,
Who by their exploits won themselves glory.
Don Sanche suits her choice, and he'll suffice
Since this duel will be the first he fights;
His lack of experience pleases her;
Since he lacks renown she lacks all fear;
And her calm reveals to us readily
She seeks a duel to discharge her duty,
One that will give Rodrigue swift victory,
And render him no more her enemy.

Infanta
I have seen all this, my heart however,
As Chimene's, adores this conqueror.
A sorry lover, how can I be resigned?

Leonor
By keeping your noble rank in mind;
Heaven owes you a king, you love a subject!

Infanta
My inclination has changed its object.
I no longer love Rodrigue the gentleman;
No my love names him to another plan;
If I love, I love he who wrought fine things,
The valorous Cid who has mastered kings.
Yet I'll draw back, not from fear of blame,
But so as not to harm their loving flame;
And when to oblige me he is crowned,
The gift I gave shall never be disowned.
Since his victory in this duel is certain,
Let me grant him to Chimene again.