No More Learning

Rodrigue
For what?

Diegue
For an affront so cruel,
It strikes our honour a blow that's fatal:
For an insult! The wretch should have died;
But age robbed me of my noble pride;
And this blade my hand can scarcely bear,
I place in yours to punish and repair.
Oppose the arrogant and prove your courage:
Only blood may redeem this outrage;
Kill, or die. And then, not to mislead,
I give you an adversary to fear indeed.
I have seen him stained with blood and powder,
To a whole army bringing pain and terror.
I've seen a hundred fine squadrons shattered
By his valour, to the four winds scattered;
More than a brave soldier, a great captain,
He is. . .

Rodrigue
Ah, tell me.

Diegue
Father to Chimene.

Rodrigue
Her. . .

Diegue
Do not repeat it, I know your love.
Rodrigue
But the infamous shall not remain above.
The dearer he is, the greater the offence.
You know the reason, the sword is vengeance,
No more. Avenge yourself, and avenge me;
Show yourself, of this your father, worthy.
Bowed by the ills fate sends to mortal men,
I'll go lament them. Go, fly: take revenge.


Act I Scene VI (Don Rodrigue)

Rodrigue
Pierced to my heart's depths, suddenly,
By a stroke as unexpected as it's mortal,
Wretched avenger in a just quarrel,
Miserable object of unjust severity,
I am transfixed, and my stricken soul
Yields to the killing blow.
So close to seeing my love rewarded,
O God, the bitter pain!
By this affront my father's the offended,
And the offender is the father of Chimene!

What fierce conflict I feel!
My love takes sides against my honour:
I must avenge a father, lose a lover.
One stirs my wrath, the other one restrains me.
Forced to the sad choice of betraying Chimene,
Or living in infamy,
In both events my pain is infinite.
O God, fresh agony!
Can I let this offender go free?
Can I punish the father of Chimene?