No More Learning

Elvire
Happily this fear shall disappoint you.

Chimene
Come what may, let us await the issue.


Act I Scene II (Infanta, Leonor, Page)

Infanta
Page, go now, tell Chimene anew
Her daily visit is long overdue
My love for her bewails her tardiness.

(Exit Page)

Leonor
Madame, each day this same wish you express;
And when she's here, I hear you ask, each day,
How far her love has travelled on its way.

Infanta
Not without purpose: almost now I force her
To welcome the pangs that make her suffer.
She loves Rodrigue, I gave her him again,
Through me Rodrigue conquered his disdain;
Having thus forged these lovers' heavy chains,
I wish to see an end to all their pains.

Leonor
Yet, Madame, considering your success
Your show of sadness runs now to excess.
Should love, that's full for them of happiness,
Cause your noble heart this deep distress?
Why should the interest in them, I see,
Cause you unhappiness if they are happy?
But I presume: forgive my indiscretion.

Infanta
My sorrow has increased by being hidden.
Hear, hear how I have struggled, all is true,
Hear of the assaults against my virtue.
Love is a tyrant who spares none, I fear:
This young knight, this lover, aided here,
I love.

Leonor
You love him!

Infanta
Feel my beating heart,
See how it quivers at the conqueror's dart,
When it hears his name.
Leonor
Madame, pardon me,
If I'm at fault for censuring this folly,
A great princess so strangely to forget
Herself, and love a simple knight as yet!
What will the king, what will Castile say?
Do you forget the role that you must play?

Infanta
So little that my blood would drench the earth
Before I'd stoop thus to betray my birth.
I might well answer that among great names,
Worth alone deserves to stir the flames;
Or, if my passion sought for some excuse,
A thousand precedents have lit the fuse:
But I'll not follow where my thoughts engage;
My depth of feeling will not quench my courage.
I remind myself as a royal daughter
None but royalty is worthy of her.
My heart unable to defend itself,
I gave away what I dared not take myself;
In my stead, let Chimene drink the wine,
And fire their passion to extinguish mine.
No wonder then if my soul, while grieving,
With impatience waits upon their wedding;
You see, my peace of mind depends on it.
If lovers live in hope, love dies with it;
Its fire sinks when the fuel's no longer there.
Despite the anguish of this sad affair,
When Chimene Rodrigue has secured
All my hopes are dead, my spirit cured.
Meanwhile my suffering none can remove.
Until the marriage, Rodrigue is still my love.
I labour to lose him, lose him with regret,
From that flows all my sorrowful secret.
I see, with pain, that love will now constrain
Me to sigh for that which I must disdain;
I feel my very soul is split in two.
Though my strength is great, my love is too.
This fatal marriage I both wish and fear:
I dare expect only imperfection here.