_Infanta._ Alas! what uneasiness I feel in my mind! I weep for her
sorrows, [yet still] her lover enthralls me; my calmness forsakes me,
and my passion revives. That which is going to separate Rodrigo from
Chimène rekindles at once my hope and my pain; and their separation,
which I see with regret, infuses a secret pleasure in mine enamored
soul.
_Leonora._ This noble pride which reigns in your soul, does it so soon
surrender to this unworthy passion?
_Infanta._ Call it not unworthy, since, seated in my heart, proud and
triumphant, it asserts its sway [_lit._ law] over me. Treat it with
respect, since it is so dear to me. My pride struggles against it, but,
in spite of myself--I hope; and my heart, imperfectly shielded against
such a vain expectation, flies after a lover whom Chimène has lost.
_Leonora._ Do you thus let this noble resolution give way [_lit._ fall]?
And does reason in your mind thus lose its influence?
_Infanta._ Ah! with how little effect do we listen to reason when the
heart is assailed by a poison so delicious, and when the sick man loves
his malady! We can hardly endure that any remedy should be applied to
it.
_Leonora._ Your hope beguiles you, your malady is pleasant to you; but,
in fact, this Rodrigo is unworthy of you.
_Infanta._ I know it only too well; but if my pride yields, learn how
love flatters a heart which it possesses. If Rodrigo once [_or_, only]
comes forth from the combat as a conqueror, if this great warrior falls
beneath his valor, I may consider him worthy of me, and I may love him
without shame. What may he not do, if he can conquer the Count? I dare
to imagine that, as the least of his exploits, entire kingdoms will fall
beneath his laws; and my fond love is already persuaded that I behold
him seated on the throne of Granada, the vanquished Moors trembling
while paying him homage; Arragon receiving this new conqueror, Portugal
surrendering, and his victorious battles [_lit._ noble days] advancing
his proud destinies beyond the seas, laving his laurels with the blood
of Africans! In fine, all that is told of the most distinguished
warriors I expect from Rodrigo after this victory, and I make my love
for him the theme of my glory.
_Leonora._ But, madam, see how far you carry his exploits [_lit._ arm]
in consequence of a combat which, perhaps, has no reality!
_Infanta._ Rodrigo has been insulted; the Count has committed the
outrage; they have gone out together. Is there need of more?
_Leonora._ Ah, well! they will fight, since you will have it so; but
will Rodrigo go so far as you are going?
_Infanta._ Bear with me [_lit._ what do you mean]? I am mad, and my mind
wanders; thou seest by that what evils this love prepares for me. Come
into my private apartment to console my anxieties, and do not desert me
in the trouble I am in [at present].
Scene VI.--DON FERNANDO (the King), DON ARIAS, DON SANCHO, and DON
ALONZO.
_Don Fernando._ The Count is, then, so presumptuous and so little
accessible to reason? Does he still dare to believe his offence
pardonable?
_Don Arias._ Sire, in your name I have long conversed with him. I have
done my utmost, and I have obtained nothing.
_Don Fernando._ Just heavens! Thus, then, a rash subject has so little
respect and anxiety to please me! He insults Don Diego, and despises his
King! He gives laws to me in the midst of my court! Brave warrior
though he be, great general though he be, I am well able [_lit._ I shall
know well how] to tame such a haughty spirit! Were he incarnate valor
[_lit._ valor itself], and the god of combats, he shall see what it is
not to obey! Whatever punishment such insolence may have deserved, I
wished at first to treat it [_or,_ him] without violence; but, since he
abuses my leniency, go instantly [_lit._ this very day], and, whether he
resists or not, secure his person. [_Exit Don Alonzo._]
_Don Sancho._ Perhaps a little time will render him less rebellious;
they came upon him still boiling with rage, on account of his quarrel.
Sire, in the heat of a first impulse, so noble a heart yields with
difficulty. He sees that he has done wrong, but a soul so lofty is not
so soon induced to acknowledge its fault.
_Don Fernando._ Don Sancho, be silent; and be warned that he who takes
his part renders himself criminal.
_Don Sancho._ I obey, and am silent; but in pity, sire, [permit] two
words in his defence.
_Don Fernando._ And what can you say?
_Don Sancho._ That a soul accustomed to noble actions cannot lower
itself to apologies. It does not imagine any which can be expressed
without _shame;_ and it is that word alone that the Count resists. He
finds in his duty a little too much severity, and he would obey you if
he had less heart. Command that his arm, trained in war's dangers,
repair this injury at the point of the sword: he will give satisfaction,
sire; and, come what may, until he has been made aware of your decision,
here am I to answer for him.
_Don Fernando._ You fail [_lit._ you are losing] in respect; but I
pardon youth, and I excuse enthusiasm in a young, courageous heart. A
king, whose prudence has better objects in view [than such quarrels],
is more sparing of the blood of his subjects. I watch over mine; my
[watchful] care protects them, as the head takes care of the limbs which
serve it. Thus your reasoning is not reasoning for me. You speak as a
soldier--I must act as a king; and whatever others may wish to say, or
he may presume to think, the Count will not part with [_lit._ cannot
lose] his glory by obeying me. Besides, the insult affects myself: he
has dishonored him whom I have made the instructor of my son. To impugn
my choice is to challenge me, and to make an attempt upon the supreme
power. Let us speak of it no more. And now, ten vessels of our old
enemies have been seen to hoist their flags; near the mouth of the river
they have dared to appear.
_Don Arias._ The Moors have by force [of arms] learned to know you, and,
so often vanquished, they have lost heart to risk their lives [_lit._
themselves] any more against so great a conqueror.
_Don Fernando._ They will never, without a certain amount of jealousy,
behold my sceptre, in spite of them, ruling over Andalusia; and this
country, so beautiful, which they too long enjoyed, is always regarded
by them with an envious eye. This is the sole reason which has caused
us, for the last ten years, to place the Castilian throne in Seville, in
order to watch them more closely, and, by more prompt action,
immediately to overthrow whatever [design] they might undertake.
_Don Arias._ They know, at the cost of their noblest leaders [_lit._
most worthy heads], how much your presence secures your conquests; you
have nothing to fear.
_Don Fernando._ And nothing to neglect--too much confidence brings on
danger; and you are not ignorant that, with very little difficulty, the
rising tide brings them hither. However, I should be wrong to cause a
panic in the hearts [of the citizens], the news being uncertain. The
dismay which this useless alarm might produce in the night, which is
approaching, might agitate the town too much. Cause the guards to be
doubled on the walls and at the fort; for this evening that is
sufficient.