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Chapter 8: Arrays and Strings

TRUE/FALSE

1. All components of an array are of the same data type.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: 507

2. The array index can be any integer less than the array size.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: 509

3. The statement int list[25]; declares list to be an array of 26 components, since the array
index starts at 0.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: 509

4. Given the declaration int list[20]; the statement list[12] = list[5] + list[7];
updates the content of the twelfth component of the array list.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: 509

5. Suppose list is a one dimensional array of size 25, wherein each component is of type int. Further,
suppose that sum is an int variable. The following for loop correctly finds the sum of the elements
of list.

sum = 0;

for (int i = 0; i < 25; i++)

sum = sum + list;

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: 512

6. If an array index goes out of bounds, the program always terminates in an error.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: 515

7. Arrays can be passed as parameters to a function by value, but it is faster to pass them by reference.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: 518

8. When you pass an array as a parameter, the base address of the actual array is passed to the formal
parameter.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: 523

9. The one place where C++ allows aggregate operations on arrays is the input and output of C-strings.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: 539

10. In a two-dimensional array, the elements are arranged in a table form.

 ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: 557

MULTIPLE CHOICE

1. Which of the following statements declares alpha to be an array of 25 components of the type int?
a. int alpha[25]; c. int alpha[2][5];
b. int array alpha[25]; d. int array alpha[25][25];
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: 507-508

2. Assume you have the following declaration char nameList[100];. Which of the following
ranges is valid for the index of the array nameList?
a. 0 through 99 c. 1 through 100
b. 0 through 100 d. 1 through 101
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: 509

3. Assume you have the following declaration int beta[50];. Which of the following is a valid
element of beta?
a. beta['2'] c. beta[0]
b. beta['50'] d. beta[50]
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: 509

4. Assume you have the following declaration double salesData[1000];. Which of the following
ranges is valid for the index of the array salesData?
a. 0 through 999 c. 1 through 1001
b. 0 through 1000 d. 1 through 1000
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: 509

5. Suppose that sales is an array of 50 components of type double. Which of the following correctly
initializes the array sales?
a. for (int 1 = 1; j <= 49; j++)
sales[j] = 0;
b. for (int j = 1; j <= 50; j++)
sales[j] = 0;
c. for (int j = 0; j <= 49; j++)
sales[j] = 0.0;
d. for (int j = 0; j <= 50; j++)
sales[j] = 0.0;
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: 512

6. Suppose that list is an array of 10 components of type int. Which of the following codes correctly
outputs all the elements of list?

a. for (int j = 1; j < 10; j++)

cout << list[j] << " ";
cout << endl;

b. for (int j = 0; j <= 9; j++)

cout << list[j] << " ";
cout << endl;
 c. for (int j = 1; j < 11; j++)
cout << list[j] << " ";
cout << endl;

d. for (int j = 1; j <= 10; j++)

cout << list[j] << " ";
cout << endl;

ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: 512

7. What is the output of the following C++ code?

int list[5] = {0, 5, 10, 15, 20};

int j;

for (j = 0; j < 5; j++)

cout << list[j] << " ";
cout << endl;

a. 0 1 2 3 4 c. 0 5 10 15 20
b. 0 5 10 15 d. 5 10 15 20
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: 512

8. What is the value of alpha[2] after the following code executes?

int alpha[5];
int j;

for (j = 0; j < 5; j++)

alpha[j] = 2 * j + 1;

a. 1 c. 5
b. 4 d. 6
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: 512

9. What is the output of the following C++ code?

int alpha[5] = {2, 4, 6, 8, 10};

int j;

for (j = 4; j >= 0; j--)

cout << alpha[j] << " ";
cout << endl;

a. 2 4 6 8 10 c. 8 6 4 2 0
b. 4 3 2 1 0 d. 10 8 6 4 2
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: 512

10. What is the output of the following C++ code?

 int list[5] = {0, 5, 10, 15, 20};
int j;

for (j = 1; j <= 5; j++)

cout << list[j] << " ";
cout << endl;

a. 0 5 10 15 20 c. 5 10 15 20 20
b. 5 10 15 20 0 d. Code results in index out-of-bounds
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: 515-516

11. Suppose that gamma is an array of 50 components of type int and j is an int variable. Which of the
following for loops sets the index of gamma out of bounds?
a. for (j = 0; j <= 49; j++)
cout << gamma[j] << " ";
b. for (j = 1; j < 50; j++)
cout << gamma[j] << " ";
c. for (j = 0; j <= 50; j++)
cout << gamma[j] << " ";
d. for (j = 0; j <= 48; j++)
cout << gamma[j] << " ";
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: 515-516

12. Consider the following declaration: int alpha[5] = {3, 5, 7, 9, 11};. Which of the
following is equivalent to this statement?
a. int alpha[] = {3, 5, 7, 9, 11};
b. int alpha[] = {3 5 7 9 11};
c. int alpha[5] = [3, 5, 7, 9, 11];
d. int alpha[] = (3, 5, 7, 9, 11);
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: 516

13. In C++, the null character is represented as ____.

a. '\0' c. '0'
b. "\0" d. "0"
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: 535

14. Which of the following correctly declares name to be a character array and stores "William" in it?
a. char name[6] = "William";
b. char name[7] = "William";
c. char name[8] = "William";
d. char name[8] = 'William';
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: 536

15. Consider the following declaration: char str[15];. Which of the following statements stores
"Blue Sky" into str?
a. str = "Blue Sky";
b. str[15] = "Blue Sky";
c. strcpy(str, "Blue Sky");
d. strcpy("Blue Sky");
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: 537
16. Consider the following declaration:
char charArray[51];
char discard;

Assume that the input is:

Hello There!
How are you?

What is the value of discard after the following statements execute?

cin.get(charArray, 51);
cin.get(discard);

a. discard = ' ' (Space) c. discard = '\n'

b. discard = '!' d. discard = '\0'
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: 540

17. Consider the following statement: double alpha[10][5];. The number of components of
alpha is ____.
a. 15 c. 100
b. 50 d. 150
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: 544

18. Consider the statement int list[10][8];. Which of the following about list is true?
a. list has 10 rows and 8 columns.
b. list has 8 rows and 10 columns.
c. list has a total of 18 components.
d. list has a total of 108 components.
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: 544

19. Consider the following statement: int alpha[25][10];. Which of the following statements about
alpha is true?
a. Rows of alpha are numbered 0...24 and columns are numbered 0...9.
b. Rows of alpha are numbered 0...24 and columns are numbered 1...10.
c. Rows of alpha are numbered 1...24 and columns are numbered 0...9.
d. Rows of alpha are numbered 1...25 and columns are numbered 1...10.
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: 544

20. Which of the following correctly declares and initializes alpha to be an array of four rows and three
columns with the component type int?
a. int alpha[4][3] = {{0,1,2} {1,2,3} {2,3,4} {3,4,5}};
b. int alpha[4][3] = {0,1,2; 1,2,3; 2,3,4; 3,4,5};
c. int alpha[4][3] = {0,1,2: 1,2,3: 2,3,4: 3,4,5};
d. int alpha[4][3] = {{0,1,2}, {1,2,3}, {2,3,4}, {3,4,5}};
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: 546

21. After the following statements execute, what are the contents of matrix?
 int matrix[3][2];
int j, k;

for (j = 0; j < 3; j++)

for (k = 0; k < 2; k++)
matrix[j][k] = j + k;

a. 0 0 c. 0 1
1 1 1 2
2 2 2 3
b. 0 1 d. 1 1
2 3 2 2
4 5 3 3
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: 548-550

22. Given the following declaration:

int j;
int sum;
double sale[10][7];

which of the following correctly finds the sum of the elements of the fifth row of sale?
a. sum = 0;
for(j = 0; j < 7; j++)
sum = sum + sale[5][j];
b. sum = 0;
for(j = 0; j < 7; j++)
sum = sum + sale[4][j];
c. sum = 0;
for(j = 0; j < 10; j++)
sum = sum + sale[5][j];
d. sum = 0;
for(j = 0; j < 10; j++)
sum = sum + sale[4][j];
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: 550

23. Given the following declaration:

int j;
int sum;
double sale[10][7];

which of the following correctly finds the sum of the elements of the fourth column of sale?
a. sum = 0;
for(j = 0; j < 7; j++)
sum = sum + sale[j][3];
b. sum = 0;
for(j = 0; j < 7; j++)
sum = sum + sale[j][4];
c. sum = 0;
for(j = 0; j < 10; j++)
sum = sum + sale[j][4];
d. sum = 0;
 for(j = 0; j < 10; j++)
sum = sum + sale[j][3];
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: 551

24. In row order form, the ____.

a. first row is stored first c. first column is stored first
b. first row is stored last d. first column is stored last
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: 552

25. A collection of a fixed number of elements (called components) arranged in n dimensions (n>=1) is
called a(n) ____.
a. matrix c. n-dimensional array
b. vector d. parallel array
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: 557

COMPLETION

1. A data type is called ____________________ if variables of that type can store only one value at a
time.

ANS: simple

PTS: 1 REF: 506

2. In a(n) ____________________ data type, each data item is a collection of other data items.

ANS: structured

PTS: 1 REF: 506

3. Complete the following statement so that it outputs the array sales.

double sales[10];
int index;

for (index = 0; index < 10; index++)

cout << ____________________ << " ";

ANS: sales[index]

PTS: 1 REF: 512

4. The word ____________________ is used before the array declaration in a function heading to
prevent the function from modifying the array.

ANS: const

PTS: 1 REF: 519

5. The ____________________ of an array is the address (that is, the memory location) of the first array
component.
 ANS: base address

PTS: 1 REF: 521

6. The ____________________ sort algorithm finds the location of the smallest element in the unsorted
portion of the list and moves it to the top of the unsorted portion of the list.

ANS: selection

PTS: 1 REF: 530-531

7. For a list of length n, the ____________________ sort makes exactly (n(n - 1))/2 key
comparisons and 3(n-1) item assignments.

ANS: selection

PTS: 1 REF: 535

8. The declaration char str[] = "Hello there"; declares str to be a string of

____________________ characters.

ANS:
12
twelve

PTS: 1 REF: 535-536

9. The function ____________________ returns the length of the string s, excluding the null character.

ANS: strlen(s)

PTS: 1 REF: 537

10. The statement strlen("Marylin Stewart"); returns ____________________.

ANS: 15

PTS: 1 REF: 537-538

11. The following statements store the value ____________________ into len.

int len;
len = strlen("Sunny California");

ANS: 16

PTS: 1 REF: 537-538

12. The header file string contains the function ____________________,which converts a value of type
string to a null-terminated character array.

ANS: c_str
 PTS: 1 REF: 541

13. Two (or more) arrays are called ____________________ if their corresponding components hold
related information.

ANS: parallel

PTS: 1 REF: 542

14. The following statement creates alpha to be a two-dimensional array with

____________________ rows.

int alpha[10][25];

ANS:
10
ten

PTS: 1 REF: 544

15. In the following declaration, the array gamma has ____________________ components.

int gamma[5][6][10];

ANS:
300
three hundred

PTS: 1 REF: 558

Other documents randomly have
different content
Abd. Come forth. We’ll commune elsewhere.

Car. (to his mother.) Wilt thou go?

Oh! let me follow thee!

Elm. Mine own fair child!

Now that thine eyes have pour’d once more on mine
The light of their young smile, and thy sweet voice
Hath sent its gentle music through my soul,
And I have felt the twining of thine arms—
How shall I leave thee?

Abd. Leave him, as ’twere but

For a brief slumber, to behold his face
At morning, with the sun’s.

Alph. Thou hast no look

For me, my mother!

Elm. Oh! that I should live

To say, I dare not look on thee! Farewell,
My first-born, fare thee well!

Alph. Yet, yet beware!

It were a grief more heavy on thy soul,
That I should blush for thee, than o’er my grave
That thou shouldst proudly weep!

Abd. Away! we trifle here. The night wanes fast.

Come forth!

Elm. One more embrace! My sons, farewell!

[Exeunt Abdullah with Elmina and her Attendant.

Alph. Hear me yet once, my mother! Art thou gone?

But one word more!
 [He rushes out, followed by Carlos.
[276] Tecbir, the war-cry of the Moors and Arabs.
[277] Tizona, the fire-brand. The name of the Cid’s favourite
sword, taken in battle from the Moorish king Bucar.
[278] Valencia, which has been repeatedly besieged and taken by
the armies of different nations, remained in possession of the
Moors for a hundred and seventy years after the Cid’s death. It
was regained from them by King Don Jayme of Aragon, surnamed
the Conqueror; after whose success I have ventured to suppose it
governed by a descendant of the Campeador.

Scene V.—The Garden of a Palace in Valencia.

Ximena, Theresa.

Ther. Stay yet awhile. A purer air doth rove

Here through the myrtles whispering, and the limes,
And shaking sweetness from the orange boughs,
Than waits you in the city.

Xim. There are those

In their last need, and on their bed of death,—
At which no hand doth minister but mine,—
That wait me in the city. Let us hence.

Ther. You have been wont to love the music made

By founts, and rustling foliage, and soft winds,
Breathing of citron-groves. And will you turn
From these to scenes of death?

Xim. To me the voice

Of summer, whispering through young flowers and leaves,
Now speaks too deep a language! and of all
Its dreamy and mysterious melodies,
The breathing soul is sadness! I have felt
That summons through my spirit, after which
The hues of earth are changed, and all her sounds
Seem fraught with secret warnings. There is cause
That I should bend my footsteps to the scenes
Where Death is busy, taming warrior-hearts,
And pouring winter through the fiery blood,
And fettering the strong arm! For now no sigh
In the dull air, nor floating cloud in heaven,
No, not the lightest murmur of a leaf,
But of his angel’s silent coming bears
Some token to my soul. But naught of this
Unto my mother! These are awful hours!
And on their heavy steps afflictions crowd
With such dark pressure, there is left no room
For one grief more.

Ther. Sweet lady, talk not thus!

Your eye this morn doth wear a calmer light,
There’s more of life in its clear tremulous ray
Than I have mark’d of late. Nay, go not yet;
Rest by this fountain, where the laurels dip
Their glossy leaves. A fresher gale doth spring
From the transparent waters, dashing round
Their silvery spray, with a sweet voice of coolness,
O’er the pale glistening marble. ’Twill call up
Faint bloom, if but a moment’s, to your cheek.
Rest here, ere you go forth, and I will sing
The melody you love.
Theresa sings.

Why is the Spanish maiden’s grave

So far from her own bright land?
The sunny flowers that o’er it wave
Were sown by no kindred hand.

’Tis not the orange-bough that sends

Its breath on the sultry air,
’Tis not the myrtle-stem that bends
To the breeze of evening there!

But the rose of Sharon’s eastern bloom

By the silent dwelling fades,
And none but strangers pass the tomb
Which the palm of Judah shades.

The lowly Cross, with flowers o’ergrown,

Marks well that place of rest;
But who hath graved, on its mossy stone,
A sword, a helm, a crest?

These are the trophies of a chief,

A lord of the axe and spear!
—Some blossom pluck’d, some faded leaf,
Should grace a maiden’s bier!

Scorn not her tomb—deny not her

The honours of the brave!
O’er that forsaken sepulchre
Banner and plume might wave.

She bound the steel, in battle tried,

Her fearless heart above,
And stood with brave men side by side,
In the strength and faith of love!

That strength prevail’d—that faith was bless’d!

True was the javelin thrown,
Yet pierced it not her warrior’s breast—
She met it with her own!

And nobly won, where heroes fell

In arms for the holy shrine,
A death which saved what she loved so well,
And a grave in Palestine.
Then let the rose of Sharon spread
Its breast to the glowing air,
And the palm of Judah lift its head,
Green and immortal there!

And let yon gray stone, undefaced,

With its trophy mark the scene,
Telling the pilgrim of the waste
Where Love and Death have been.

Xim. Those notes were wont to make my heart

beat quick,
As at a voice of victory; but to-day
The spirit of the song is changed, and seems
All mournful. Oh! that, ere my early grave
Shuts out the sunbeam, I might hear one peal
Of the Castilian trumpet, ringing forth
Beneath my father’s banner! In that sound
Were life to you, sweet brothers!—But for me—
Come on—our tasks await us. They who know
Their hours are number’d out, have little time
To give the vague and slumberous languor way,
Which doth steal o’er them in the breath of flowers,
And whisper of soft winds.

[Elmina enters hurriedly.

Elm. The air will calm my spirit, ere yet I meet

His eye, which must be met.—Thou here, Ximena!
[She starts back on seeing Ximena.

Xim. Alas! my mother! in that hurrying step

And troubled glance I read——

Elm. (wildly.) Thou read’st it not!

Why, who would live, if unto mortal eye
The things lay glaring, which within our hearts
We treasure up for God’s? Thou read’st it not!
I say, thou canst not! There’s not one on earth
Shall know the thoughts, which for themselves have made
And kept dark places in the very breast
Whereon he hath laid his slumber, till the hour
When the graves open!

Xim. Mother! what is this!

Alas! your eye is wandering, and your cheek
Flush’d, as with fever! To your woes the night
Hath brought no rest.

Elm. Rest!—who should rest?—not he

That holds one earthly blessing to his heart
Nearer than life! No! if this world have aught
Of bright or precious, let not him, who calls
Such things his own, take rest!—Dark spirits keep watch;
And they to whom fair honour, chivalrous fame,
Were as heaven’s air, the vital element
Wherein they breathed, may wake, and find their souls
Made marks for human scorn! Will they bear on
With life struck down, and thus disrobed of all
Its glorious drapery? Who shall tell us this?
—Will he so bear it?

Xim. Mother! let us kneel

And blend our hearts in prayer! What else is left
To mortals when the dark hour’s might is on them?
—Leave us, Theresa.—Grief like this doth find
Its balm in solitude.
[Exit Theresa.
My mother! peace
Is heaven’s benignant answer to the cry
Of wounded spirits. Wilt thou kneel with me?

Elm. Away! ’tis but for souls unstain’d, to wear

Heaven’s tranquil image on their depths.—The stream
Of my dark thoughts, all broken by the storm,
Reflects but clouds and lightnings!—Didst thou speak
Of peace?—’tis fled from earth! But there is joy!
Wild, troubled joy! And who shall know, my child,
It is not happiness? Why, our own hearts
Will keep the secret close! Joy, joy! if but
To leave this desolate city, with its dull
Slow knells and dirges, and to breathe again
Th’ untainted mountain-air!—But hush! the trees,
The flowers, the waters, must hear naught of this!
They are full of voices, and will whisper things——
—We’ll speak of it no more.

Xim. O pitying heaven!

This grief doth shake her reason!

Elm. (starting.) Hark! a step!

’Tis—’tis thy father’s! Come away—not now—
He must not see us now!

Xim. Why should this be?

[Gonzalez enters, and detains Elmina.

Gon. Elmina, dost thou shun me? Have we not

E’en from the hopeful and the sunny time
When youth was as a glory round our brows,
Held on through life together? And is this,
When eve is gathering round us, with the gloom
Of stormy clouds, a time to part our steps
Upon the darkening wild?

Elm. (coldly.) There needs not this.

Why shouldst thou think I shunn’d thee

Gon. Should the love

That shone o’er many years, th’ unfading love,
Whose only change hath been from gladdening smiles
To mingling sorrows and sustaining strength,
Thus lightly be forgotten?

Elm. Speak’st thou thus?

—I have knelt before thee with that very plea,
When it avail’d me not! But there are things
Whose very breathings from the soul erase
All record of past love, save the chill sense,
Th’ unquiet memory of its wasted faith,
And vain devotedness! Ay! they that fix
Affection’s perfect trust on aught of earth,
Have many a dream to start from!

Gon. This is but

The wildness and the bitterness of grief,
Ere yet the unsettled heart hath closed its long
Impatient conflicts with a mightier power,
Which makes all conflict vain.
——Hark! was there not
A sound of distant trumpets, far beyond
The Moorish tents, and of another tone
Than th’ Afric horn, Ximena?

Xim. O my father!
I know that horn too well.—’Tis but the wind,
Which, with a sudden rising, bears its deep
And savage war-note from us, wafting it
O’er the far hills.

Gon. Alas! this woe must be!

I do not shake my spirit from its height,
So startling it with hope! But the dread hour
Shall be met bravely still. I can keep down
Yet for a little while—and heaven will ask
No more—the passionate workings of my heart
—And thine, Elmina?

Elm. ’Tis—I am prepared.

I have prepared for all.

Gon. Oh, well I knew

Thou wouldst not fail me! Not in vain my soul,
Upon thy faith and courage, hath built up
Unshaken trust.

Elm. (wildly.) Away!—thou know’st me not!

Man dares too far—his rashness would invest
This our mortality with an attribute
Too high and awful, boasting that he knows
One human heart!

Gon. These are wild words, but yet

I will not doubt thee! Hast thou not been found
Noble in all things, pouring thy soul’s light
Undimm’d o’er every trial? And, as our fates,
So must our names be, undivided!—Thine,
I’ th’ record of a warrior’s life, shall find
Its place of stainless honour. By his side——

Elm. May this be borne! How much of agony

Hath the heart room for? Speak to me in wrath
—I can endure it! But no gentle words!
No words of love! no praise! Thy sword might slay,
And be more merciful!

Gon. Wherefore art thou thus?

Elmina, my beloved!

Elm. No more of love!

—Have I not said there’s that within my heart,
Whereon it falls as living fire would fall
Upon an unclosed wound?

Gon. Nay, lift thine eyes,

That I may read their meaning!

Elm. Never more

With a free soul. What have I said?—’twas naught!
Take thou no heed! The words of wretchedness
Admit not scrutiny. Wouldst thou mark the speech
Of troubled dreams?

Gon. I have seen thee in the hour

Of thy deep spirit’s joy, and when the breath
Of grief hung chilling round thee; in all change,
Bright health and drooping sickness; hope and fear;
Youth and decline; but never yet, Elmina,
Ne’er hath thine eye till now shrunk back, perturb’d
With shame or dread, from mine!

Elm. Thy glance doth search

A wounded heart too deeply.

Gon. Hast thou there

Aught to conceal?

Elm. Who hath not?

Gon. Till this hour

Thou never hadst! Yet hear me!—by the free
And unattainted fame which wraps the dust
Of thine heroic fathers——

Elm. This to me!

—Bring your inspiring war-notes, and your sounds
Of festal music round a dying man!
Will his heart echo them? But if thy words
Were spells, to call up, with each lofty tone,
The grave’s most awful spirits, they would stand
Powerless, before my anguish!

Gon. Then, by her,

Who there looks on thee in the purity
Of her devoted youth, and o’er whose name
No blight must fall, and whose pale cheek must ne’er
Burn with that deeper tinge, caught painfully
From the quick feeling of dishonour—Speak!
Unfold this mystery! By thy sons——

Elm. My sons!
And canst thou name them?

Gon. Proudly! Better far

They died with all the promise of their youth,
And the fair honour of their house upon them,
Than that, with manhood’s high and passionate soul
To fearful strength unfolded, they should live,
Barr’d from the lists of crested chivalry,
And pining, in the silence of a woe,
Which from the heart shuts daylight—o’er the shame
Of those who gave them birth! But thou couldst ne’er
Forget their lofty claims!

Elm. (wildly.) ’Twas but for them!

’Twas for them only! Who shall dare arraign
Madness of crime? And He who made us, knows

There are dark moments of all hearts and lives,

Which bear down reason!

Gon. Thou, whom I have loved

With such high trust as o’er our nature threw
A glory scarce allow’d—what hast thou done?
—Ximena, go thou hence!
Elm. No, no! my child!
There’s pity in thy look! All other eyes
Are full of wrath and scorn! Oh, leave me not!

Gon. That I should live to see thee thus abased!

—Yet speak! What hast thou done?

Elm. Look to the gate!

Thou’rt worn with toil—but take no rest to-night!
The western gate! Its watchers have been won—
The Christian city hath been bought and sold!—
They will admit the Moor!

Gon. They have been won!

Brave men and tried so long! Whose work was this?

Elm. Think’st thou all hearts like thine? Can mothers stand
To see their children perish?

Gon. Then the guilt

Was thine?

Elm. Shall mortal dare to call it guilt?

I tell thee, heaven, which made all holy things,
Made naught more holy than the boundless love
Which fills a mother’s heart! I say, ’tis woe
Enough, with such an aching tenderness,
To love aught earthly! and in vain! in vain!
—We are press’d down too sorely!

Gon. (in a low desponding voice.) Now my life

Is struck to worthless ashes!—In my soul
Suspicion hath ta’en root. The nobleness
Henceforth is blotted from all human brows;
And fearful power, a dark and troublous gift,
Almost like prophecy, is pour’d upon me,
To read the guilty secrets in each eye
That once look’d bright with truth!
Why, then, I have gain’d
What men call wisdom!—A new sense, to which
All tales that speak of high fidelity,
And holy courage, and proud honour, tried,
Search’d, and found steadfast, even to martyrdom,
Are food for mockery! Why should I not cast
From my thinn’d locks the wearing helm at once,
And in the heavy sickness of my soul
Throw the sword down for ever? Is there aught
In all this world of gilded hollowness,
Now the bright hues drop off its loveliest things,
Worth striving for again?

Xim. Father! look up!

Turn unto me, thy child!

Gon. Thy face is fair;

And hath been unto me, in other days,
As morning to the journeyer of the deep?
But now—’tis too like hers!

Elm. (falling at his feet.) Woe, shame and woe,

Are on me in their might! Forgive! forgive!

Gon. (starting up.) Doth the Moor deem that I have part or
share
Or counsel in his vileness? Stay me not!
Let go thy hold—’tis powerless on me now:
I linger here, while treason is at work!

[Exit Gonzalez.

Elm. Ximena, dost thou scorn me?

Xim. I have found

In mine own heart too much of feebleness,
 Hid, beneath many foldings, from all eyes
But His whom naught can blind, to dare do aught
But pity thee, dear mother!

Elm. Blessings light

On thy fair head, my gentle child, for this!
Thou kind and merciful! My soul is faint—
Worn with long strife! Is there aught else to do,
Or suffer, ere we die?—Oh God! my sons!
—I have betray’d them! All their innocent blood
Is on my soul!

Xim. How shall I comfort thee?

—Oh! hark! what sounds come deepening on the wind,
So full of solemn hope!
A procession of Nuns passes across the Scene, bearing relics, and
chanting.

CHANT.
 A sword is on the land!
He that bears down young tree and glorious flower,
Death is gone forth, he walks the wind in power!
Where is the warrior’s hand?
Our steps are in the shadows of the grave:
Hear us, we perish!—Father, hear and save!

If, in the days of song,

The days of gladness, we have call’d on thee.
When mirthful voices rang from sea to sea,
And joyous hearts were strong;
Now that alike the feeble and the brave
Must cry, “We perish!”—Father, hear and save!

The days of song are fled!

The winds come loaded, wafting dirge-notes by;
But they that linger soon unmourn’d must die—
The dead weep not the dead!
Wilt thou forsake us midst the stormy wave?
We sink, we perish!—Father, hear and save!

Helmet and lance are dust!

Is not the strong man wither’d from our eye?
The arm struck down that held our banners high?—
Thine is our spirits’ trust!
Look through the gathering shadows of the grave!
Do we not perish?—Father, hear and save!

Hernandez enters.

Elm. Why com’st thou, man of vengeance?—

What have I
To do with thee? Am I not bow’d enough?
Thou art no mourner’s comforter!

Her. Thy lord

Hath sent me unto thee. Till this day’s task
Be closed, thou daughter of the feeble heart!
He bids thee seek him not, but lay thy ways
Before heaven’s altar, and in penitence
Make thy soul’s peace with God.

Elm. Till this day’s task

Be closed!—There is strange triumph in thine eyes—
Is it that I have fall’n from that high place
Whereon I stood in fame? But I can feel
A wild and bitter pride in thus being past
The power of thy dark glance! My spirit now
Is wound about by one sole mighty grief;
Thy scorn hath lost its sting. Thou may’st reproach——

Her. I come not to reproach thee. Heaven doth work

By many agencies; and in its hour
There is no insect which the summer breeze
From the green leaf shakes trembling, but may serve
Its deep unsearchable purposes, as well
As the great ocean, or th’ eternal fires
Pent in earth’s caves. Thou hast but speeded that,
Which, in th’ infatuate blindness of thy heart,
Thou wouldst have trampled o’er all holy ties
But to avert one day!

Elm. My senses fail.

Thou said’st—speak yet again—I could not catch
The meaning of thy words.

Her. E’en now thy lord

Hath sent our foes defiance. On the walls
He stands in conference with the boastful Moor,
And awful strength is with him. Through the blood
Which this day must be pour’d in sacrifice
Shall Spain be free. On all her olive-hills
 Shall men set up the battle-sign of fire,
And round its blaze, at midnight, keep the sense
Of vengeance wakeful in each other’s hearts
E’en with thy children’s tale!

Xim. Peace, father! peace!

Behold she sinks!—the storm hath done its work
Upon the broken reed. Oh! lend thine aid
To bear her hence.

[They lead her away.

Scene VI.—A Street in Valencia. Several Groups

of Citizens and Soldiers, many of them lying on
the steps of a church. Arms scattered on the
ground around them.
An Old Cit. The air is sultry, as with thunder-clouds.
I left my desolate home, that I might breathe
More freely in heaven’s face, but my heart feels
With this hot gloom o’erburden’d. I have now
No sons to tend me. Which of you, kind friends,
Will bring the old man water from the fount,
To moisten his parch’d lip?
[A citizen goes out.

2d Cit. This wasting siege,

Good Father Lopez, hath gone hard with you!
’Tis sad to hear no voices through the house,
Once peopled with fair sons!

3d Cit. Why, better thus,

Than to be haunted with their famish’d cries,
E’en in your very dreams!
Old Cit. Heaven’s will be done!
These are dark times! I have not been alone
In my affliction.

3d Cit. (with bitterness.) Why, we have but this thought

Left for our gloomy comfort!—And ’tis well!
Ay, let the balance be awhile struck even
Between the noble’s palace and the hut,
Where the worn peasant sickens! They that bear
The humble dead unhonour’d to their homes,
Pass now i’ th’ streets no lordly bridal train
With its exulting music; and the wretch
Who on the marble steps of some proud hall
Flings himself down to die, in his last need
And agony of famine, doth behold
No scornful guests, with their long purple robes,
To the banquet sweeping by. Why, this is just!
These are the days when pomp is made to feel
Its human mould!

4th Cit. Heard you last night the sound

Of Saint Iago’s bell?—How sullenly
From the great tower it peal’d!

5th Cit. Ay, and ’tis said

No mortal hand was near when so it seem’d
To shake the midnight streets.

Old Cit. Too well I know

The sound of coming fate!—’Tis ever thus
When Death is on his way to make it night
In the Cid’s ancient house.[279] Oh! there are things
In this strange world of which we’ve all to learn
When its dark bounds are pass’d. Yon bell, untouch’d,
(Save by the hands we see not,) still doth speak—
When of that line some stately head is mark’d—
With a wild hollow peal, at dead of night,
Rocking Valencia’s towers. I’ve heard it oft,
Nor know its warning false.

4th Cit. And will our chief

Buy with the price of his fair children’s blood
A few more days of pining wretchedness
For this forsaken city?

Old Cit. Doubt it not!

—But with that ransom he may purchase still
Deliverance for the land! And yet ’tis sad
To think that such a race, with all its fame,
Should pass away! For she, his daughter too,
Moves upon earth as some bright thing whose time
To sojourn there is short.

5th Cit. Then woe for us

When she is gone! Her voice, the very sound
Of her soft step, was comfort, as she moved
Through the still house of mourning! Who like her
Shall give us hope again?

Old Cit. Be still!—she comes,

And with a mien how changed! A hurrying step,
And a flush’d cheek! What may this bode?—
Be still!

Ximena enters, with Attendants carrying a Banner.

Xim. Men of Valencia! in an hour like this,

What do ye here?

A Cit. We die!

Xim. Brave men die now

Girt for the toil, as travellers suddenly
By the dark night o’ertaken on their way!
These days require such death! It is too much
Of luxury for our wild and angry times,
To fold the mantle round us, and to sink
From life, as flowers that shut up silently,
When the sun’s heat doth scorch them! Hear ye not?

A Cit. Lady! what wouldst thou with us?

Xim. Rise and arm!

E’en now the children of your chief are led
Forth by the Moor to perish! Shall this be—
Shall the high sound of such a name be hush’d,
I’ th’ land to which for ages it hath been
A battle-word, as ’twere some passing note
Of shepherd-music? Must this work be done,
And ye lie pining here, as men in whom
The pulse which God hath made for noble thought
Can so be thrill’d no longer?

A Cit. ’Tis e’en so!

Sickness, and toil, and grief, have breathed upon us,
Our hearts beat faint and low.

Xim. Are ye so poor

Of soul, my countrymen! that ye can draw
Strength from no deeper source than that which sends
The red blood mantling through the joyous veins,
And gives the fleet step wings? Why, how have age
And sensitive womanhood ere now endured,
Through pangs of searching fire, in some proud cause,
Blessing that agony? Think ye the Power
Which bore them nobly up, as if to teach
The torturer where eternal heaven had set
Bounds to his sway, was earthy, of this earth—
This dull mortality? Nay, then look on me!
Death’s touch hath mark’d me, and I stand amongst you,
As one whose place, i’ th’ sunshine of your world,
Shall soon be left to fill!—I say, the breath
Of th’ incense, floating through yon fane, shall scarce
Pass from your path before me! But even now
I’ve that within me, kindling through the dust,
Which from all time hath made high deeds its voice
And token to the nations. Look on me!
Why hath heaven pour’d forth courage, as a flame
Wasting the womanish heart, which must be still’d
Yet sooner for its swift consuming brightness,
If not to shame your doubt, and your despair,
And your soul’s torpor? Yet, arise and arm!
It may not be too late.

A Cit. Why, what are we,

To cope with hosts? Thus faint, and worn, and few,
O’ernumber’d and forsaken, is’t for us
To stand against the mighty?

Xim. And for whom

Hath He, who shakes the mighty with a breath
From their high places, made the fearfulness,
And ever-wakeful presence of his power
To the pale startled earth most manifest,
But for the weak? Was’t for the helm’d and crown’d
That suns were stay’d at noonday?—stormy seas
As a rill parted?—mail’d archangels sent
To wither up the strength of kings with death?
—I tell you, if these marvels have been done,
’Twas for the wearied and th’ oppress’d of men.
They needed such! And generous faith hath power
By her prevailing spirit, e’en yet to work
Deliverances, whose tale shall live with those
Of the great elder-time! Be of good heart!
Who is forsaken? He that gives the thought
A place within his breast? ’Tis not for you.
—Know ye this banner?

Cits. (murmuring to each other.) Is she not inspired?

Doth not heaven call us by her fervent voice?

Xim. Know ye this banner?

Cits. ’Tis the Cid’s.

Xim. The Cid’s!

Who breathes that name but in th’ exulting tone
Which the heart rings to? Why, the very wind,
As it swells out the noble standard’s fold,
Hath a triumphant sound! The Cid’s! it moved
Even as a sign of victory through the land,
From the free skies ne’er stooping to a foe!

Old Cit. Can ye still pause, my brethren! Oh! that youth

Through this worn frame were kindling once again!

Xim. Ye linger still? Upon this very air,

He that was born in happy hour for Spain[280]
Pour’d forth his conquering spirit! ’Twas the breeze
From your own mountains which came down to wave
This banner of his battles, as it droop’d
Above the champion’s deathbed. Nor even then
Its tale of glory closed. They made no moan
O’er the dead hero, and no dirge was sung,[281]
But the deep tambour and shrill horn of war
Told when the mighty pass’d! They wrapt him not
With the pale shroud, but braced the warrior’s form
In war-array, and on his barded[282] steed,
As for a triumph, rear’d him; marching forth
In the hush’d midnight from Valencia’s walls,
Beleaguer’d then, as now. All silently
The stately funeral moved. But who was he
That follow’d, charging on the tall white horse,
And with the solemn standard, broad and pale,
Waving in sheets of snowlight? And the cross,
The bloody cross, far-blazing from his shield,
And the fierce meteor-sword? They fled, they fled!
The kings of Afric, with their countless hosts,
Were dust in his red path. The scimitar
Was shiver’d as a reed;—for in that hour
The warrior-saint that keeps the watch for Spain,
Was arm’d betimes. And o’er that fiery field
The Cid’s high banner stream’d all joyously,
For still its lord was there.

Cits. (rising tumultuously.) Even unto death

Again it shall be follow’d!

Xim. Will he see

The noble stem hewn down, the beacon-light
Which from his house for ages o’er the land
Hath shone through cloud and storm, thus quench’d at once?
Will he not aid his children in the hour
Of this their utmost peril? Awful power
Is with the holy dead, and there are times
When the tomb hath no chain they cannot burst!
Is it a thing forgotten how he woke
From its deep rest of old; remembering Spain
In her great danger? At the night’s mid-watch
How Leon started, when the sound was heard
That shook her dark and hollow-echoing streets,
As with the heavy tramp of steel-clad men,
By thousands marching through. For he had risen!
The Campeador was on his march again,
And in his arms, and follow’d by his hosts
Of shadowy spearmen. He had left the world
From which we are dimly parted, and gone forth,
And call’d his buried warriors from their sleep,
Gathering them round him to deliver Spain;
For Afric was upon her. Morning broke,
Day rush’d through clouds of battle; but at eve
Our God had triumph’d, and the rescued land
Sent up a shout of victory from the field,
That rock’d her ancient mountains.

Cits. Arm! to arms!

On to our chief! We have strength within us yet
To die with our blood roused! Now, be the word
For the Cid’s house!

[They begin to arm themselves.

Xim. Ye know his battle-song?

The old rude strain wherewith his bands went forth
To strike down Paynim swords!
[She sings.

THE CID’S BATTLE-SONG.

The Moor is on his way!

With the tambour-peal and the tecbir-shout,
And the horn o’er the blue seas ringing out,
He hath marshall’d his dark array!

Shout through the vine-clad land!

That her sons on all their hills may hear;
And sharpen the point of the red wolf-spear,
And the sword for the brave man’s hand!

[The Citizens join in the song, while they continue arming

themselves.

Banners are in the field!

The chief must rise from his joyous board,
And turn from the feast ere the wine be pour’d,
And take up his father’s shield!

The Moor is on his way!

Let the peasant leave his olive-ground,
And the goats roam wild through the pine-woods round:
There is nobler work to-day!

Send forth the trumpet’s call!

Till the bridegroom cast the goblet down,
And the marriage-robe, and the flowery crown;
And arm in the banquet hall!

And stay the funeral-train:

Bid the chanted mass be hush’d awhile,
And the bier laid down in the holy aisle,
And the mourners girt for Spain.

[They take up the banner and follow Ximena out, their voices
are heard gradually dying away at a distance.

Ere night must swords be red!

It is not an hour for knells and tears,
But for helmets braced and serried spears!
To-morrow for the dead!

The Cid is in array!

His steed is barded, his plume waves high,
His banner is up in the sunny sky—
Now, joy for the Cross to-day!
[279] It was a Spanish tradition that the great bell of the
cathedral of Saragossa always tolled spontaneously before a king
of Spain died.
[280] “El que en buen hora nasco;” he that was born in happy
hour. An appellation given to the Cid in the ancient chronicles.
 [281] For this, and the subsequent allusions to Spanish legends,
see The Romances, and Chronicle of the Cid.
[282] Barded, caparisoned for battle.

Scene VII.—The walls of the city. The plains

beneath, with the Moorish Camp and
Army.
Gonzalez, Garcias, Hernandez.
(A wild sound of Moorish music heard from below.)

Her. What notes are these in their deep mournfulness

So strangely wild?

Gar. ’Tis the shrill melody

Of the Moor’s ancient death-song. Well I know
The rude barbaric sound; but, till this hour,
It seem’d not fearful. Now, a shuddering chill
Comes o’er me with its tones.—Lo! from yon tent
They lead the noble boys!

Her. The young, and pure,

And beautiful victims!—’Tis on things like these
We cast our hearts in wild idolatry,
Sowing the wands with hope! Yet this is well:
Thus brightly crown’d with life’s most gorgeous flowers,
And all unblemish’d, earth should offer up
Her treasures unto heaven!

Gar. (to Gonzalez.) My chief, the Moor

Hath led your children forth.

Gon. (starting.)Are my sons there?

I knew they could not perish; for yon heaven
Would ne’er behold it!—Where is he that said
I was no more a father? They look changed—
Pallid and worn, as from a prison-house!
Or is’t mine eyes see dimly? But their steps
Seem heavy, as with pain. I hear the clank—
Oh God! their limbs are fetter’d!

Abd. (coming forward beneath the walls.)

Christian! look
Once more upon thy children. There is yet
One moment for the trembling of the sword;
Their doom is still with thee.

Gon. Why should this man

So mock us with the semblance of our kind?
—Moor! Moor! thou dost too daringly provoke,
In thy bold cruelty, th’ all-judging One,
Who visits for such things! Hast thou no sense
Of thy frail nature? ’Twill be taught thee yet;
And darkly shall the anguish of my soul,
Darkly and heavily, pour itself on thine,
When thou shalt cry for mercy from the dust,
And be denied!

Abd. Nay, is it not thyself

That hast no mercy and no love within thee?
These are thy sons, the nurslings of thy house;
Speak! must they live or die?

Gon. (in violent emotion.) Is it heaven’s will

To try the dust it kindles for a day,
With infinite agony! How have I drawn
This chastening on my head! They bloom’d around me,
And my heart grew too fearless in its joy,
Glorying in their bright promise!—If we fall,
Is there no pardon for our feebleness?
 Hernandez, without speaking, holds up a cross before him.

Abd. Speak!

Gon. (snatching the cross, and lifting it up.) Let the earth be
shaken through its depths,
But this must triumph!

Abd. (coldly.) Be it as thou wilt.

—Unsheath the scimitar!

[To his guards.

Gar. (to Gonzalez.) Away, my chief!

This is your place no longer. There are things
No human heart, though battle-proof as yours,
Unmadden’d may sustain.

Gon. Be still! I have now

No place on earth but this!

Alph. (from beneath.) Men! give me way,

That I may speak forth once before I die!

Gar. The princely boy!—how gallantly his brow

Wears its high nature in the face of death!

Alph. Father!

Gon. My son! my son!—Mine eldest-born!

Alph. Stay but upon the ramparts! Fear thou not

—There is good courage in me. O my father!
I will not shame thee!—only let me fall
Knowing thine eye looks proudly on thy child,
So shall my heart have strength.

Gon. Would, would to God,

That I might die for thee, my noble boy!
Alphonso, my fair son!

Alph. Could I have lived,

I might have been a warrior! Now, farewell!
But look upon me still!—I will not blench
When the keen sabre flashes. Mark me well!
Mine eyelids shall not quiver as it falls,
So thou wilt look upon me!

Gar. (to Gonzalez.) Nay, my lord!

We must be gone! Thou canst not bear it!

Gon. Peace!
Who hath told thee how much man’s heart can bear?
—Lend me thine arm—my brain whirls fearfully—
How thick the shades close round! My boy! my boy!
Where art thou in this gloom?

Gar. Let us go hence!

This is a dreadful moment!

Gon. Hush!—what saidst thou?

Now let me look on him!—Dost thou see aught
Through the dull mist which wraps us?

Gar. I behold—
Oh, for a thousand Spaniards! to rush down——

Gon. Thou seest—My heart stands still to hear thee speak!

—There seems a fearful hush upon the air,
As ’twere the dead of night!

Gar. The hosts have closed

Around the spot in stillness. Through the spears,
Ranged thick and motionless, I see him not!
—But now——
Gon. He bade me keep mine eye upon him,
And all is darkness round me!—Now?

Gar. A sword,
A sword, springs upward, like a lightning burst,
Through the dark serried mass! Its cold blue glare
Is wavering to and fro—’tis vanish’d—hark!

Gon. I heard it, yes!—I heard the dull dead sound

That heavily broke the silence! Didst thou speak?
—I lost thy words—come nearer!

Gar. ’Twas—’tis past!—

The sword fell then!

Her. (with exultation.) Flow forth thou noble blood!

Fount of Spain’s ransom and deliverance, flow
Uncheck’d and brightly forth! Thou kingly stream!
Blood of our heroes! blood of martyrdom!
Which through so many warrior-hearts hast pour’d
Thy fiery currents, and hast made our hills
Free, by thine own free offering! Bathe the land,—
But there thou shalt not sink! Our very air
Shall take thy colouring, and our loaded skies
O’er th’ infidel hang dark and ominous,
With battle-hues of thee! And thy deep voice,
Rising above them to the judgment-seat,
Shall call a burst of gather’d vengeance down,
To sweep th’ oppressor from us! For thy wave
Hath made his guilt run o’er!

Gon. (endeavouring to rouse himself.) ’Tis all a dream!

There is not one—no hand on earth could harm
That fair boy’s graceful head! Why look you thus?

Abd. (pointing to Carlos.) Christian! e’en yet thou hast a son!

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