By the five Moorish Kings,-although the latter King. Look to the lady. [XIMENA faints. A noise of trumpets growing nearer. 3d Off. My lord, the strangest and the happiest news! Prisoners unto your greatness. King. What of the conqueror? 3d Officer. He, Sir, in his great modesty And deference to your late reproof of him, Has turned out of the path to his father's house, · King. Go to him instantly, And fetch both father and son. This is the noblest Day of my life, though I am conquered too. A March.-Enter ALVAR FENRZ with the five Moorish Kings; all but the King and a few others uncover. Al. Fan. (Kneeling and presenting a letter and a standard)— My cousin, Sir, Rodrigo de Bivàr, Having, he says, by fortune and his friends Been blessed with quick prevention of the war, Lays the green standard at your royal feet; And begs your princely hospitality In favour of these great and gallant enemies. This letter will speak farther. King. (Uncovering with the rest, and descending from his throne)— His wishes, and their own reverse of fortune, Our sense of the young lustre lately obscured Visitors at our court, which you will leave Abd. We are thrice conquered, Sir; By your new general, his great soul, and yours. Enter a Herald with a trumpet. Her. My liege, the venerable Count Lainez And his victorious son, attend your bidding. King. You and the other heralds usher them; And let the music bid all hearts rise up With its most numerous and majestic voice. A full and noble March.-Enter eight Heralds with Trumpets, two and two, and then RODRIGO supporting his Father. The King introduces DIEGO to the Moors, and then seats him in a Chair. King. Rodrigo, you have made us pant for words With this great tide of glory. Let it suffice Ought to be done for you, shall shew my thanks. Your knighting, there's a crowning conquest still, Your aspect happy as glorious.-You would speak of it I do confess, two favours still to ask; And I should blush to ask them openly, Had not a secret, as I understand, Escaped with sweet sad breath to most here present. My great-hearted friend, Take up that veil from off thy nobleness. Your nephew, Sir, (to Abd.); and oh, my friend of friends, And passed it on the road? Alm. But it has shewn for me that I have gratitude; Shewn thee! It must be so. [Embraces him again. Rod. And shewn another.-Sir, (to the King) they love Each other nobly, as you now have seen; And my first favour is, that you would make Their union part of your festivity. King. Theirs, and one more, I hope. Whom, with my son, I have unknowingly, Almost until this hour, tried with such pain, I can, as a fond father, ask you nothing. Yet there's a difference, fair one; a great difference, Of sorrow come to me through all these sweets,— My boy might have been happy. Xim. Not for that, sir: Not with such help. I do not speak in anger. I wish not you nor him otherwise than As you now are, except in one fond habit That mars his well-earned happiness. I can look Not out of hate, bnt duty; you may see it. [She weeps. King. Not to enlarge on the distinction, lady, Which the Count speaks of, though I might well urge it As witness to this matter, first and last; Yet as the King,-I mean, as princely father Of all my Spanish family, I may advise you In balance with these thousands of glad lives Rod. May I intreat you, Sir? I had one other favour. I would ask it. Xim. My lord, to shew you all my heart at once,Its duties, its necessities, the shadow Which the ever-present pall has cast upon it,- By the decision of Rodrigo's self. Rod. O the futility of toils and dangers, Lady Ximena be secure and quiet A far-set hope, like to a star in heaven, King. Be it so. Shall I not request her then [XIMENA slowly takes her seat again. Enter the proper Assistants with a Golden Bason, and Spur, and a Velvet Stool. Would it were I that had the knighting of thee! King. What is that title, brother, which you give him? Abd. I called him Cid; for my heart could not helpë. Dau Speaking a native word: it signifies Master and Lord. King. It shall henceforward be His most distinguishing title, both in honour That make him understood so and admired By friend and foe. Plant thy foot here, Rodrigo. 4 རྗ་ [A Herald throws a Mantle over his Shoulders, and the King puts the Spur on his Foot. Then rising, the King dips his Finger in the Bason, and crosses RODRIGO's Forehead and his own. King. Be thou a faithful and right loyal knight For God and for Saint Jago and for Spain.- This is Rodrigo de Bivàr, the Cid. [The Heralds, standing four on each side of the Company, blow their Trumpets loudly towards the Audience, and the Curtain falls. TO CORRESPONDENTS. It is all right between S. G. and his Companion. LONDON: Published by HUNT and CLARKE, York street, Covent garden: and sold by all Booksellers and Newsvenders in town and country.-Price 4d. PRINTED BY C. H. REYNELL, BROAD STREET, GOLDEN SQUARE. |