The Cid E-Book

Pierre Corneille

• Herausgeber: Raanan Editeur
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

Le Cid is a five-act French tragicomedy written by Pierre Corneille, first performed in December 1636 at the Théâtre du Marais in Paris and published the same year. It is based on Guillén de Castro's play Las Mocedades del Cid. Castro's play in turn is based on the legend of El Cid.
Le Cid is widely regarded as Corneille's finest work, and is considered one of the greatest plays of the seventeenth century.
Background
| The stories of the Cid are based on the life of the Spanish warrior Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar, who lived approximately from 1043 until 1099. The real "Cid" seems to have fought for both Muslims and Christians at different times and appears to have been a sellsword figure. In the play, however, he is lauded solely as a Christian soldier.[2] The name "El Cid" was derived from the Arabic word for lord ("sayyid") and made Spanish, and further given a French article for Corneille's version. To this day, the Cid remains a popular Spanish folklore character, who has inspired many stories and works of art...|

 

Leseprobe

SOMMMAIRE

Preface

Act the First.

Act the Second.

Act the Third.

Act the Fourth.

Act the Fifth.

PIERRE CORNEILLE

THE CID

TRAGICOMEDY IN FIVE ACTS

1637

A Literal Translation, by Roscoe Mongan

Hinds & Noble Hinds, Noble & Eldredge, Publishers

New York City

1896

Raanan Éditeur

Digital book723| Publishing 1

Preface

Cid Campeador is the name given in histories, traditions and songs to the most celebrated of Spain's national heroes.

His real name was Rodrigo or Ruy Diaz (i.e. "son of Diego"), a Castilian noble by birth. He was born at Burgos about the year 1040.

There is so much of the mythical in the history of this personage that hypercritical writers, such as Masdeu, have doubted his existence; but recent researches have succeeded in separating the historical from the romantic.

Under Sancho II, son of Ferdinand, he served as commander of the royal troops. In a war between the two brothers, Sancho II. and Alfonso VI. of Leon, due to some dishonorable stratagem on the part of Rodrigo, Sancho was victorious and his brother was forced to seek refuge with the Moorish King of Toledo.

In 1072 Sancho was assassinated at the siege of Zamora, and as he left no heir the Castilians had to acknowledge Alfonso as King. Although Alfonso never forgave the Cid for having, as leader of the Castilians, compelled him to swear that he (the Cid) had no hand in the murder of his brother Sancho, as a conciliatory measure, he gave his cousin Ximena, daughter of the Count of Oviedo, to the Cid in marriage, but afterwards, in 1081, when he found himself firmly seated on the throne, yielding to his own feelings of resentment and incited by the Leonese nobles, he banished him from the kingdom.

At the head of a large body of followers, the Cid joined the Moorish King of Saragossa, in whose service he fought against both Moslems and Christians. It was probably during this exile that he was first called the Cid, an Arabic title, which means the lord. He was very successful in all his battles.

In conjunction with Mostain, grandson of Moctadir, he invaded Valencia in 1088, but afterwards carried on operations alone, and finally, after a long siege, made himself master of the city in June, 1094. He retained possession of Valencia for five years and reigned like an independent sovereign over one of the richest territories in the Peninsula, but died suddenly in 1099 of anger and grief on hearing that his relative, Alvar Fañez, had been vanquished and the army which he had sent to his assistance had been defeated.

After the Cid's death his wife held Valencia till 1102, when she was obliged to yield to the Almoravides and fly to Castile, where she died in 1104. Her remains were placed by those of her lord in the monastery of San Pedro de Cardeña.

THE CID

Act the First.

Scene I.—Chimène and Elvira.

Chimène. Elvira, have you given me a really true report? Do you conceal nothing that my father has said?

Elvira. All my feelings within me are still delighted with it. He esteems Rodrigo as much as you love him; and if I do not misread his mind, he will command you to respond to his passion.

Chimène. Tell me then, I beseech you, a second time, what makes you believe that he approves of my choice; tell me anew what hope I ought to entertain from it. A discourse so charming cannot be too often heard; you cannot too forcibly promise to the fervor of our love the sweet liberty of manifesting itself to the light of day. What answer has he given regarding the secret suit which Don Sancho and Don Rodrigo are paying to you? Have you not too clearly shown the disparity between the two lovers which inclines me to the one side?

Elvira. No; I have depicted your heart as filled with an indifference which elates not either of them nor destroys hope, and, without regarding them with too stern or too gentle an aspect, awaits the commands of a father to choose a spouse. This respect has delighted him—his lips and his countenance gave me at once a worthy testimony of it; and, since I must again tell you the tale, this is what he hastened to say to me of them and of you: 'She is in the right. Both are worthy of her; both are sprung from a noble, valiant, and faithful lineage; young but yet who show by their mien [lit. cause to easily be read in their eyes] the brilliant valor of their brave ancestors. Don Rodrigo, above all, has no feature in his face which is not the noble [lit. high] representative of a man of courage [lit. heart], and descends from a house so prolific in warriors, that they enter into life [lit. take birth there] in the midst of laurels. The valor of his father, in his time without an equal, as long as his strength endured, was considered a marvel; the furrows on his brow bear witness to [lit. have engraved his] exploits, and tell us still what he formerly was. I predict of the son what I have seen of the father, and my daughter, in one word, may love him and please me.' He was going to the council, the hour for which approaching, cut short this discourse, which he had scarcely commenced; but from these few words, I believe that his mind [lit. thoughts] is not quite decided between your two lovers. The king is going to appoint an instructor for his son, and it is he for whom an honor so great is designed. This choice is not doubtful, and his unexampled valor cannot tolerate that we should fear any competition. As his high exploits render him without an equal, in a hope so justifiable he will be without a rival; and since Don Rodrigo has persuaded his father, when going out from the council, to propose the affair. I leave you to judge whether he will seize this opportunity [lit. whether he will take his time well], and whether all your desires will soon be gratified.

Chimène. It seems, however, that my agitated soul refuses this joy, and finds itself overwhelmed by it. One moment gives to fate different aspects, and in this great happiness I fear a great reverse.

Elvira. You see this fear happily deceived.

Chimène. Let us go, whatever it may be, to await the issue.

Scene II.—The Infanta, Leonora, and a Page.

Infanta (to Page). Page, go, tell Chimène from me, that to-day she is rather long in coming to see me, and that my friendship complains of her tardiness. [Exit Page.]

Leonora. Dear lady, each day the same desire urges you, and at your interview with her, I see you every day ask her how her love proceeds.

Infanta. It is not without reason. I have almost compelled her to receive the arrows with which her soul is wounded. She loves Rodrigo, and she holds him from my hand; and by means of me Don Rodrigo has conquered her disdain. Thus, having forged the chains of these lovers, I ought to take an interest in seeing their troubles at an end.

Leonora. Dear lady, however, amidst their good fortune you exhibit a grief which proceeds to excess. Does this love, which fills them both with gladness, produce in this noble heart [of yours] profound sadness? And does this great interest which you take in them render you unhappy, whilst they are happy? But I proceed too far, and become indiscreet.

Infanta. My sadness redoubles in keeping the secret. Listen, listen at length, how I have struggled; listen what assaults my constancy [lit. virtue or valor] yet braves. Love is a tyrant which spares no one. This young cavalier, this lover which I give [her]—I love him.

Leonora. You love him!

Infanta. Place your hand upon my heart, and feel [lit. see] how it throbs at the name of its conqueror! how it recognizes him!