"Words of the 'Wise Captain': Pierre Corneille, Le Cid, and Fidelity," Renaissance Drama (U Chicago Press), Vol. 43, No. 1, Spring 2015, 27-52.

Words of the “Wise Captain”: PierreCorneille, Le Cid, and Fidelity

chr i s t y p i ch i chero, George Mason University

Nous ne sommes hommes, et ne nous tenons les uns aux autres quepar la parole. (We are men, and hold together, only by our word.)

—Montaigne, Essais, “Des menteurs,” (I, 9)

in the first couplet declaimed by Don Gomès, Count of Gormas, in act 1,scene 1 of Le Cid, Pierre Corneille advanced a fundamental theme of thetragicomedy, and indeed of his entire oeuvre: fidelity. The Count assesses

the qualities of his daughter Chimène’s suitors, Don Rodrigue and Don Sanche,and confirms their three most important attributes: “Tous deux formés d’unsang noble, vaillant, fidèle” (Both of them formed of blood that is noble, valiant,faithful; 1.1.12).1 As the rhyme word fidèle rang out through the Théâtre duMarais in early 1637, audiences were brought to reflect upon the place of fidelityin the play and in their historical moment. Questions of fidelity were weightyand pressing in the wake of 1636, the disastrous “année de Corbie” (year ofCorbie). During that year, the second of France’s official engagement in theThirty Years’ War (1618–48), King Louis XIII was faced with both foreign warsand domestic turmoil. Spanish forces invaded deep into French territory, andmilitary heroes of the royal family, such as Gaston d’Orléans and the comtede Soissons, had turned against the monarch and his chief minister, CardinalRichelieu. Gaston and Soissons, the king’s brother and cousin, hatched a plot toassassinate Richelieu at Amiens in October 1636 while the French were fending

I would like to thank the readers of the first version of this article for their wise and helpfulsuggestions.

1. Pierre Corneille, Le Cid (Paris: Flammarion, 2002), 84. All translations are mine unlessotherwise indicated. The translated quote by Montaigne in the epigraph comes from the Villeyedition in Montaigne’s Essays and Collected Writings, trans. and ed. Donald Frame (London: Bed-ford/St. Martin’s, 1965).

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off the Spanish. Despite the failure of their conspiracy, this betrayal made itclear that fidelity as an ethos and interpersonal bond was as fragile and porousas the pre-Vaubanian French borders.

A little over a month after Le Cid debuted in Paris, Louis XIII published apublic letter that is revealing about the contemporary crisis of fidelity. In theepistle, he attempted to reassure the populace of “la fidélité de tous [ses] sujets”(the fidelity of all his subjects), especially that of his wayward brother:2

mon Frere a bien jugé que l’union des cœurs est aussi necessaire en cetemps que celle des forces du Royaume : pour agir plus puissammentcontre les ennemis de la grandeur de cette Couronne & de son repos : Ils’est porté de luy-mesme à tout ce que j’eusse peu desirer, & il n’a pasplustost reconnu sa faute, que je ne l’aye oubliée de bon cœur; ajoustanttelle foi aux asseurances qu’il m’a données de son affection, & de sonzele au bien de cet Estat, que je m’en rends caution envers moi-mesme.

[to act with greater strength against the enemies of the grandeur andtranquility of the crown, my brother has judged that in this time theunion of hearts is as necessary as that of the military forces of the king-dom. Of his own accord, he availed himself to all that I could have de-sired and no sooner had he recognized his fault, but I willingly forgot it.[He was] adding such faith to the assurances that he gave me of his af-fection and his zeal for the well-being of the state that I act as guarantorfor him to myself.]

Louis XIII’s letter in La Gazette is steeped in the culture of fidelity, a termwhose definition as “Loyauté, foy” (loyalty, faith) or “Verité, Exactitude, Sin-cerité” (truth, exactitude, sincerity) in the first edition of the Dictionnaire del’Académie française is deceivingly simple. Historians such as Roland Mousnierassert that fidelity formed the very bedrock of civilization and collective con-sciousness in ancien régime France. It represented a central tenet of the Chris-tian worldview and polis as well as a key concept of noble relations dating backto the age of Charlemagne. It united the God of grace to his humble, sinfulworshippers (his fidèles, or faithful ones). “From Saint Paul to Saint Augustineand through the long tradition of Christian metaphysics,” Arthur Herman re-minds us, “any Christian society was characterized as a society of deference

2. “Lettre du Roy escrite aux generaux d’armées & Gouverneurs des Provinces sur lesasseurances renouvelés par Monseigneur Frere du Roy, à Sa Majesté, de son affection au biende son service et de son Estat,” La Gazette, February 13, 1637.

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held together by bonds of love—‘the union of hearts, of wills, of interests,’ asSaint Augustine phrased it, formed a pactum societatis, linking together themembers of society.”3 Fidelity was a sentiment that symbolized one’s recogni-tion of the cosmological as well as the political order, under which the monarchwas lord of the French, and God the Lord of all lords. It was therefore thoughtof not only as the natural bond that connects all Christians but also as thephilosophical and practical life force of the body politic under a monarchicalregime. Mousnier, the pioneer historian of fidelity in early modern France,explains that in a society of orders like that of the ancien régime, there is adanger of each subgroup acting antagonistically or in self-interest rather thanin the spirit of the common good. Fidelity counterbalanced and diffused thisthreat. If the monarchy was “the organ of coordination and direction” in thearena of positive, temporal law, then fidelity was the analogous organ of eternal,moral law forming the “ ‘blood’ of the body politic, ‘blood’ of France.”4

In addition to this Christian and monarchical framing of fidelity, it was alsoa type of “vertical tie,” as J. Russell Major puts it; a reciprocal relationship be-tween maître (master) and fidèle (faithful one) associated with noble fraternityin arms that came down from Carolingian times.5 Mousnier relates that fidel-ity as a functional bond developed in response to a hierarchical society in which“a gentleman can only advance through the favor of a grand, a great noble.”6 Inthis social system, Mousnier elaborates, the fidèle:

gives himself to him [a patron or protector], vows to him total allegiance,absolute devotion, consecrates to him his services, fights for him in duels,brawls, and pitched battles, speaks, writes, and intrigues for him, followshim in misfortune, even overseas, serves in prison for him, kills for him.In exchange, the master provides him with food and clothing, places trustand confidence in him, advances him in the world, obtains appointmentsfor him, arranges his marriage, protects him, obtains his release fromprison, makes stipulations in his favor in treaties with the king endingrevolts . . . a genuine tie of master to créature unites them, and their re-

3. Arthur Herman, “The Language of Fidelity in Early Modern France,” Journal of ModernHistory 67, no. 1 (1995): 9.

4. Mousnier, “Les fidélités et les clientèles en France aux XVIe, XVIIe, et XVIIIe siècles,”Histoire Sociale 15 (1982): 37.

5. J. Russell Major, “Vertical Ties through Time,” French Historical Studies 17, no. 4 (1992):863–71.

6. Mousnier’s first advanced his description of fidelity in his 1945 work La vénalité des officessous Henri IV et Louis XIII (Rouen: Maugard, 1945), 531–32 (translated from second edition ofMousnier’s book in Sharon Kettering, Patrons, Brokers, and Clients in Seventeenth-Century France[New York: Oxford University Press, 1986], 243).

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ciprocal duties are above all others, even obedience to the king, even ser-vice to the state.7

Fidelity as a vertical tie, Mousnier argues, must be seen as distinct from bothfeudalism and clientage. It was dissimilar to feudalism in that it did not involvethe granting of fiefs and required only an informal oral declaration rather thana formal ritual such as the homage. Fidelity was also different from the moretransactional patron-client relationship in that it designated a deeper personaland emotional attachment that is natural and transparent. It was “a reciprocalgift of self, comprising an element of affection that evokes love or at the veryleast warm friendship, doing so naturally and without anything ambiguous ordubious.”8

The king’s letter exhibits these characteristics. It represents fidelity as a dy-namic relationship actualized by a process that engaged behavioral, linguistic,and emotional elements. Gaston’s recognition of his error, self-motivated obe-dience, and offering of his faithful assurances convey his position as trust-worthy fidèle. Louis XIII’s pardoning, “forgetting” his brother’s crime, and ac-cepting his claims of loyalty to be true (“I act as guarantor for him to myself”)signal his status as generous maître.9 In addition to these marks of mutualloyalty, the king’s rhetoric foregrounds the central role of emotion (“l’union descœurs” [union of hearts], “de bon cœur” [with true heart], “affection” [affection],“zèle” [zeal]), indicating that the bond of fidelity could not be achieved withoutengaging the heart.

Yet there is something unconvincing about these displays of faithfulness, alurking disingenuousness that is as apparent to the modern reader as it was toa skeptic like Corneille. The “union of hearts” to which Louis XIII makes ref-erence seems dubious at best, especially in the case of an individual like Gas-ton who was next in line for the throne, one degree away from ascending fromthe highest and most threatening of fidèles to the greatest maître in the realm.Contemporaries were well aware of the prince’s ambitions, as his involvementin several future conspiracies such as Cinq-Mars and the Fronde would evince.His protestations of fidelity most likely came from an insincere place of mau-vaise foi (bad faith) rather than bonne foi (faith, honesty). Similarly, it seems

7. Mousnier, La vénalité des offices, 531–32. Quoted in Kettering, Patrons, Brokers, and Clients,243.

8. Roland Mousnier, “Les fidélités et les clientèles,” 44.9. For more on the discourse of forgetting, its prominence and significance in ending the

French Wars of Religion, see Andrea Frisch, “French Tragedy and the Civil Wars,” Modern Lan-guage Quarterly, 67, no. 3 (2006): 287–312, and Forgetting Differences: Tragedy, Historiography, andthe French Wars of Religion (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, forthcoming).



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highly unwise and unlikely that Louis XIII had actually “forgotten” his broth-er’s and cousin’s infidelities such that his own affirmations are also attended bya measure of bad faith. The relationship of fidelity between the king and hisbrother does not appear to be a deep, transparent, and long-standing bond.Rather, it seems a strategic performance executed in the context of conflict, ameans by which Gaston could reingratiate himself with the monarch, who inturn could use this loyal imagery as political propaganda.10 As Louis XIII’s let-ter makes evident, fidelity was often about doing and especially saying the rightthing to the right person at the right time.

Corneille was fascinated by the theme of fidelity, which he deployed as aprimary topos of his œuvre elaborating his vision of its modes, mechanisms,and problematics. Corneille employed the word fidelity in its multiple forms( fidélité/fidèle and their antonyms infidélité/infidèle) in every one of his theatricalworks. For scholars of Corneille, it is immediately obvious why fidelity with itsmany facets—the centrality of language and representation, deep roots in theChristian pactum societatis, problems of egoism and disobedience between so-cial groups, the freedom to shift loyalties (even away from the king)—renderedit an attractive theme for his dramas. This was particularly so after he moved tocenter his plots on historical rather than mythical notions of culture and time.11

Following this shift, many of his plays could come to mind as featuring fidelity,

10. The potential for such insincerity in fidelity has provoked a long-standing historiographi-cal debate. On one side, Mousnier argues that people earnestly gave of themselves to participatein a “société de fidèles” (society of faithful ones). On the other side, Sharon Kettering and like-minded scholars maintain that there was no fidelity per se, only patron-client relations character-ized by courteous but self-interested interactions. The journal French Historical Studies (vol. 17,no. 4) published a forum on this subject in 1992, with articles by Sharon Kettering, Arlette Jouanna,and J. Russell Major.

11. On Corneille and historical time, see Mitchell Greenberg, “The Grateful Dead: Corneille’sTragedy and the Illusion of History,” Stanford French Review 11 (Summer 1987), 157–75, “TheGrateful Dead: Corneille’s Tragedy and the Subject of History,” in Subjectivity and Subjugation inSeventeenth-Century Drama and Prose: The Family Romance of French Classicism (Cambridge: Cam-bridge University Press, 1992), 48–64, and Corneille, Classicism and the Ruses of Symmetry (Cam-bridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986), 38–40. See also John D. Lyons, The Tragedy of Or-igins: Pierre Corneille & Historical Perspective (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1996), esp.the introduction and 34–36. See also these recent works by David Clarke, Katherine Ibbett, Hé-lène Merlin-Kajman, Paul Scott, and Hélène Bilis, whose analyses examine Corneille’s plotlinesas reflective of contemporary historical circumstances and political ideologies, though withoutthe type of reductive referentiality that Georges Couton previously attributed to his work: DavidClarke, Pierre Corneille: Poetics and Political Drama under Louis XIII (Cambridge: Cambridge Uni-versity Press, 1992); Katherine Ibbett, The Style of the State in French Theater, 1630–1660 (Burling-ton, VT: Ashgate, 2009); Hélène Merlin-Kajman, L’Absolutisme dans les lettres et la théorie des deuxcorps: Passions et politique, Lumière Classique (Paris: Honoré Champion, 2000); Paul Scott, “ ‘Maforce est trop petite’: Authority and Kingship in Le Cid,” Forum for Modern Language Studies 45,no. 3 (2009): 292–304; and Hélène Bilis, “Corneille’s Œdipe and the Politics of Seventeenth-



from early works like Le Cid (1637) and Cinna (1643) to his final tragedy Suréna(1674), all of which I shall examine in this article. However, even in Corneille’searliest comedies, the subject of fidelity constitutes a focal point of characterand plot development. Indeed, in his very first play, Mélite, ou les fausses lettresof 1629, Corneille launches the plot scenario on a problem of conflicting fideli-ties—those of friendship and romantic love. Éraste’s and Tircis’s rivaling lovefor Mélite leads them to betray their friendship. As Tircis proclaims in act 1,scene 3, “En matière d’amour rien n’oblige à tenir, / Et les meilleurs amislorsque son feu les presse / Font bientôt vanité d’oublier leur promesse (Inmatters of love, nothing obliges one to keep [one’s word] / And best friends,when love’s fire presses them / proudly forget their promise; 1.3.248–50). ForÉraste and Tircis as for many of Corneille’s heroes, individuals maintain multi-ple “bonds” of fidelity with different people, in varying power arrangements(vertical, horizontal), and in diverse forms. In Corneille’s view, fidelity as apolitical vertical tie as theorized by Mousnier coexists and often competes withloyalties and duties of other kinds—filial deference, dynastic honor, religiousdevotion, personal glory, romantic relationships, friendship—all of which Cor-neille addresses in terms of fidelity. Tircis’s unscrupulousness in disregardinghis fidelity to Éraste is cast comically in Mélite; however, prioritizing romanticfidelity over amicable and political fidelity was fodder for psychological dramaand devastation for Cinna. From Rodrigue and Chimène in Le Cid to Antiochusand Séleucus in act 3, scene 5 of Rodogune (1645), the torment of competingfidelities—not just to values, but to people—represents a pillar of the dilemmecornélien.

In this article, I seek to bring attention to fidelity as a thematic of Corneille’soeuvre and to shed light onto his complex, critical constructs of the culture offidelity. I contend that examining his treatment of the subject can offer newperspectives on even the most canonical of works, such as Le Cid, which is themain focus of my analysis. I will survey the broad meaning that Corneille at-tributes to fidelity in Le Cid and the way he calls attention to fidelity not as atrue and transparent emotional bond as Mousnier would have it, but as a blurryspace of contestation, negotiation, and adaptation. In the following section ofthis essay, I argue that in romantic, amicable, and political relations, Corneilleevokes the difficulties—if not impossibilities—of loyalty and sincerity, show-ing fidelity not to be a sincere don de soi, or gift of self, but rather a faire poursoi (doing for oneself ). What is more, insincerity is presented as the norm in“successful” vertical relations of political fidelity, which constitute a focal pointof Le Cid. Corneille fixes on political fidelity as a type of language game be-

Century Royal Succession,” MLN 125, no. 4 (2010): 873–94; as opposed to Georges Couton,Corneille et la tragédie politique (Paris: Presses universitaires de France, 1984).



tween maître and fidèle, a political performance resembling the one that KingLouis XIII recounted in La Gazette.12 I will investigate this language game indetail utilizing speech-act theory, specifically the categories of speech developedby J. L. Austin in How to Do Things with Words, as well as historiographical workon fidelity, patron-client relations, and feudalism (which are not so easily differ-entiated). We shall see that while Corneille portrays a functioning political fi-delity between Rodrigue and his king Don Fernand, he simultaneously revealsit to be a highly strategic performance implemented to manage conflict and togloss over self-interested and at times dangerously adversarial interactions witha veneer of hierarchical order and personal affection.13 Corneille also shows thatone faces such challenges only if one is permitted to play this patriarchal gamein the first place, which female characters like Chimène and the Infante are not.By way of conclusion, I will remark on Corneille’s further explorations of fidelityafter Le Cid and will suggest that his treatment of fidelity is a noteworthy exam-ple of the ways that French literature and theater of early seventeenth-centuryFrance represented a form of political commentary and critique.

FIDELITY IN LE CID : FORMS AND FRICTIONS

From his first engagement with the subject of fidelity in Mélite, Corneille ques-tions the two constitutive components of fidelity: loyalty or faithfulness ( foi), on

12. Conceiving of fidelity as a language game makes sense in a broader historical context.Strict public ritual, such as the rite of vassalage, had characterized the formation and reiterationof vertical ties through medieval times. However, during the Renaissance such processes becamefar less formulaic. Participants no longer meticulously followed precise ceremonial procedures,but rather engaged in what could best be understood as what J. G. A. Pocock, Quentin Skinner,and others have called communicational environments with conventional aspects, or alternatively“speech act situations.” See, e.g., J. G. A. Pocock, “Introduction: The State of the Art,” in Virtue,Commerce, and History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985); and Quentin Skinner,“Conventions and the Understanding of Speech Acts,” Philosophical Quarterly 20, no. 79 (1970):118–38, and “On Performing and Explaining Linguistic Actions,” Philosophical Quarterly 21, no. 82(1971): 1–21. For a detailed anthropological description of the rites of vassalage, see Jacques LeGoff, Time, Work, and Culture in the Middle Ages (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980),237–86, “The Symbolic Ritual of Vassalage.” Despite the decreasing ritualism of political ex-change during the Renaissance and early seventeenth century, an increased attention to courtesywas nonetheless occurring at this time and Louis XIV would later institute intricate ceremonialsurrounding displays of monarchical power and the submission of his subjects. On courtesyunder Louis XIII, see Orest Ranum, “Courtesy, Absolutism, and the Rise of the French State,1630–1660,” Journal of Modern History 52 (1980): 426–51.

13. David Posner (The Performance of Nobility in Early Modern European Literature [Cam-bridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999]) describes “the theatrical court-world of Corneille [inwhich] everyone’s must know their lines; deviating from the script, i.e., the modes of behaviorproper to one’s role, whether that role be King, Defender of the Realm, Sage Counsellor, orVirtuous Princess, is the worst possible error, and inevitably entrains the direst consequences”(7). I agree with Posner’s perspective and locate this same performativity in Corneille’s treat-ment of fidelity.




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the one hand, and truth or sincerity, on the other. Is it possible to be loyal andsincere? If so, to what degree? Is it even desirable to be fully loyal and sincereto any person or value system?

I will take loyalty as an example. Though in certain cases Corneille cele-brates unswerving loyalty as a virtue in characters such as the Christian mar-tyr Polyeucte (Polyeucte, 1643) and virtuous political fidèle Clitandre (Clitandre,1631), most of his plays demonstrate wariness with regard to the desirability(not to mention tenability) of such pure devotion. He portrays the undyingromantic loyalty between Tite and Bérénice (Tite et Bérénice, 1670) or Surénaand Eurydice (Suréna, 1674) as admirable, but utterly tragic. He is far more direand even grotesque in the instances of Pymante’s violating obsession with Do-rise in Clitandre, Horace’s fidelity to Rome (Horace, 1640) or the commitmentto vengeance exhibited by Médée (Médée, 1635) and Cléopâtre (Rodogune, 1644),which he shows to be grossly ill-advised, if not monstrous. In the example ofCléopâtre, Corneille depicts her loyalty to vengeance as repulsive and a mark ofinsanity, especially as the suicidal queen declares her greatest fidèle to be herown hate (Cléopâtre: “Ma haine est trop fidèle, et m’a trop bien servie” [My hateis too faithful, and has served me too well]; 5.4.1812). Similarly, in act 2, scene 1of Le Cid, the Count’s loyalty to himself and to his glory that justifis his refusalto obey the King is not only condemned as criminal disobedience and hubris-tic self-flattery, but also a departure from reason and sense (Don Arias: “Souf-frez que la raison remette vos esprits” [Allow reason to bring back your wits];2.1.383). The depravity of the Count’s total loyalty to self plays a strategic rolein Corneille’s staging of fidelity in Le Cid, as I shall illustrate later in thisanalysis.14

For figures less fatalistic, degenerate, or misguided, the part of loyalty infidelity seems an insurmountable challenge as characters are pulled into differ-ent and at times opposing directions with their multiple commitments. What ismore, even when a character finds resolve in their dedication to another, Cor-neille ventures that the precise form such loyalty should take is yet anothersubject of struggle and argument. In act 5, scene 1 of Le Cid, Rodrigue andChimène squabble for nearly one hundred lines over how Rodrigue shouldbehave in his judicial duel against Don Sanche to best reify his “fidèle ardeur”(1491) for Chimène. Previously, in act 4, scene 5, the King had decided thatthe winner of the judicial duel between Rodrigue and Sanche will receive Chi-mène’s loyalty and hand in marriage (4.5.1468–69). Knowing this, Rodrigueenters the following scene determined to allow himself to be killed in the name

14. See Arlette Jouanna, Le devoir de révolte: La noblesse française et la gestation de l’état moderne,1559–1661 (Paris: Fayard, 1989); and Kristen Neuschel, Word of Honor: Interpreting Noble Culturein Sixteenth-Century France (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1989).



of love and loyalty to Chimène (Rodrigue: “Je cours à mon supplice, et non pasau combat, / Et ma fidèle ardeur sait bien m’ôter l’envie, / Quand vous cherchezma mort, de défendre ma vie” [I run to my punishment and not towardscombat, / And my faithful ardor knows well how to remove my desire, / To de-fend my life when you seek my death]; 5.1.1490–92). Chimène repudiates thischoice of expression for Rodrigue’s loyal love to her and argues in lines 1511–32that he must fight in the name of his honor and his life, which would showloyalty and attribute honor to Chimène’s cause and family. Corneille reveals,however, that these arguments are less than sincere, since she soon modi-fies her argumentative strategy to admit that if nothing else, Rodrigue shouldfight valiantly in order to possess her as the prize, which as they both knowwould legitimize their long-standing wish to be together (5.1.1557–59, 5.1.1565–66).

In this example, Corneille dramatizes the difficulty of defining what consti-tutes loyalty. At the same time, he underscores the pitfalls related to the sec-ond component of fidelity, mainly truth or sincerity. While Chimène’s origi-nal arguments are rational and legitimate given the circumstances surroundingthe duel, they are in fact disingenuous. Fighting in the name of Rodrigue’shonor and her own are pretexts that she unfurls to mask her true desire to beunited with Rodrigue. Likewise, on several occasions Corneille shows that theInfante uses the relationship of “amitié fidèle” (faithful friendship; 4.2.1183)with Chimène insincerely, deploying the expression as a facade to conceal thather actions and advice are always self-serving. She admits privately to her gov-erness Léonor in act 1, scene 3 that she played matchmaker between Rodrigueand Chimène not out of a true and loyal desire to see her friend suitablymatched, but rather in order to extinguish her own socially improper passionfor the young knight (lines 95–98). In act 4, scene 2, the Infante speaks in thename of faithful friendship as she advises Chimène to give up her pursuit tosee Rodrigue punished, recommending that Chimène expunge her love forhim and let him live to defend the state, which is the most important priority(1185–1200). However, Corneille prepares the audience to intercept this insin-cere advice and to recognize once again the Infante’s personal motivations. Inact 2, scene 5, she announced that she had given in to her passion for Rodrigueand therefore hoped that the knight would continue to win glory and honor inbattle, which would bolster his reputation and render justifiable an alliancewith a princess such as herself. The Infante’s guidance is in fact neither loyalnor sincere and she seems willing to “faire l’impossible,” do even the impossi-ble (2.3.468), for her own benefit rather than that of Chimène.

In the above instances, Corneille clearly displays the challenges of effect-ing the loyalty and sincerity that fidelity requires. He hones and deepens hiscritique through his extensive treatment of political fidelity between the centralmale characters of Le Cid. Corneille’s strategy involves portraying the “enact-



ment” of the bond in great detail, breaking it down into its constituent parts,and ultimately exposing the self-interest and hypocrisy that attend it. In theexchange between Fernand and Rodrigue of act 4, scene 3, he shows howmaître and fidèle effectively utilize recognizable modes of speech and gesture inwhat can be seen as a language game of fidelity. Such a language game, assertsHerman, “provided a means of making an individual’s actions recognizableand praiseworthy to others” and “located the agent in a realm of legitimate andjustifiable intentions and actions.”15

CORNEILLE ’S LANGUAGE GAME OF POLITICAL FIDELITY

The language game involves three distinct parts that communicate fidelity andare interwoven into the dialogue between maître and fidèle: material, symbolic,and emotional exchange. First, Corneille clearly upholds that neither maître norfidèle engaged in the culture of fidelity out of moral virtue alone. Each personsought to gain something tangible from the relationship. As such, Corneilledisplays political players making economic transactions typically associated withthe system of patronage and clientage. Patronage, explains Sharon Kettering,was a semicontractual “unequal, vertical alliance between superiors and inferi-ors or dependents based on an obligatory exchange.”16 Corneille thus showsboth parties bargaining to achieve reciprocity, equity, and propriety in materialexchange.17 This negotiation is supplemented by a second exchange of symboliccapital enacted through social posturing.18 Maître and fidèle attribute honor anddeference to one another, signifying reciprocal personal dedication as well asthe adherence to a shared Christian worldview of social and political hierarchy.Corneille highlights the latter by infusing a feudal quality into the languagethrough the use of regalian and theophanic registers, the former indicatingwords that one would only employ to address a king and the latter being wordsthat, as Geoffrey Koziol puts it elegantly, “recognized the divine grace thatinfused the lord’s office.”19 This posturing has social value as well as moral

15. Herman, “Language of Fidelity,” 13–14.16. See Sharon Kettering, Patronage in Sixteenth- and Seventeeth-Century France (Burlington,

VT: Ashgate, 2002), viii.17. On reciprocity in Corneille, see Bradley Rubidge, “The Code of Reciprocation in Cor-

neille’s Heroic Drama,” Romantic Review, 89, no. 1 (1998): 55–88.18. Reciprocity in material and symbolic exchanges were typical in internoble and noble-to-

monarch relations. On the former, see Jouanna, Le devoir de révolte, chap. 3. On such exchangesbetween the noblesse de l’épée and the king, see Jay M. Smith, The Culture of Merit: Nobility,Royal Service, and the Making of Absolute Monarchy in France, 1600–1789 (Ann Arbor: Universityof Michigan Press, 1996).

19. Geoffrey Koziol, Begging Pardon and Favor: Ritual and Political Order in Early MedievalFrance (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1992), 9.



utility since it offers acceptable moral justification for the actions of maître andfidèle, obscuring their self-interest and the raw economics of the initial part oftheir exchange. Finally, these concrete and symbolic trades are confirmed via athird performative moment communicating signs of emotion that serve as evi-dence to guarantee that the promise of fidelity is made “de bon cœur.”

These elements, when performed properly by Rodrigue and Fernand in act 4,scene 3, seemingly engender fidelity. Corneille sharpens this impression bypresenting the disobedient Count as a foil to Rodrigue’s role as fidèle. Theapparent success of Fernand’s and Rodrigue’s language game is indeed ren-dered more gleaming by virtue of comparison to the Count’s miserable showof fidelity early in the play. This is utterly ironic since the Count allegedlyvalued fidelity as one of the most important traits in a husband for his daugh-ter. Nevertheless, the Count misses all occasions and cues to articulate his fi-delity to Fernand, who is represented by his messenger Don Arias in act 2,scene 1. The latter sets the tone for an exchange regarding fidelity by invokingFernand’s emotional attachment to the Count, speaking of the King’s “irritatedheart” in his second verse (2.1.357) and later imploring “d’un Prince qui vousaime appaisez le courroux” (Appease the anger of a Prince who loves you;2.1.365).20 The Count, in response, gives no performance of fidelity. He doesnot offer up the tangible or symbolic “devoirs,” “soumissions,” and “satisfac-tions” that the King has requested. He neglects to demonstrate a spirit of dutydespite Arias’s prompting. He offers arrogant insults in place of deference. Heclings to, rather than concedes his glory, a subject to which we shall return(“Monsieur, pour conserver ma gloire et mon estime / Désobéir un peu n’estpas un si grand crime” [Sir, to conserve my glory and my esteem / Disobeyinga little is not such a big crime]; 2.1.367–68). Clearly, neither feudalistic norclientist vocabularies are at play.

While the Count displays the type of noble self-sufficiency and pride de-scribed by Kristen Neuschel in Word of Honor, Corneille does not legitimatethis self-importance via political arguments studied by Arlette Jouanna in Ledevoir de révolte, which referred to the noble warrior’s role in protecting thebody politic and the bien public (public good).21 Instead, the Count seems toadhere to something of a mercenary agreement, speaking of pay in act 1,

20. In the 1660–62 editions of the play, Corneille changed lines 364 and 365 but still main-tained the emphasis on Fernand’s affection: “Le Roi vous aime encore, appaisez son courroux”(The King still loves you, appease his anger).

21. See Jouanna, Le devoir de révolte; and Neuschel, Word of Honor. While the Count mentionsthe state (l’État) in verse 380 in this scene, his discourse regarding his military role focuses onhis personal reputation and the sovereignty of the King. He makes no reference to his role asprotector of the body politic or public good.



scene 4 and of the King’s “interest” in act 2, scene 1. The Count has indeedcarried out military service for the King, but does so for personal advancementalone. Unsurprisingly, he never communicates a reciprocal emotion of any type.The Count appears to have wasted an opportunity to perform his fidelity toFernand. An engagement in the expected language game might have earnedhim the King’s protection and royal intervention in Rodrigue’s pursuit of honor,which in turn could have saved his life.

In these ways, Corneille sets up his audience to expect opposite behaviorsfrom Rodrigue as pertains to fidelity and its tripartite language game. In act 4,scene 3, Corneille begins by staging the type of concrete transactions inher-ent to the system of patronage-clientage, which I shall briefly summarize. Aclient/fidèle risked life and limb to fight in the name of the king/maître andhis political interests, reifying his courage, generosity, and fidelity. The mon-arch, in turn, showed his generosity and fidelity through recompense that camein the form of monetary reward, titles, impunities, or other concrete benefits.Kettering asserts that “an informal, indirect process of bargaining and negotia-tion characterized most patron-client relationships in which the interests, re-sources and contributions of one participant were periodically weighed againstthose of the other. The bond was broken when the imbalance in reciprocity be-came too great for one of the participants. It was a loose, inexact system of ac-counting, and what satisfied one participant did not always satisfy another.”22

This reciprocal transaction, which is couched in courtesy and the lexicon ofthe gift (despite being self-interested bargaining), is the central focus of act 4,scene 3.23 In exchange for Rodrigue’s service of defending Castille from theMoors, Fernand offers multiple rewards. He subtly tenders material recom-pense in the form of the two Moorish kings for whom Rodrigue would ac-quire a plentiful ransom.24 He also accords benefits in the form of a dual par-don; one for having taken military action without royal permission and theother for having killed the Count (4.3.1263–66).25 Fernand grants this pardonat the request of Rodrigue, who weaves an entreaty into his negotiation withthe King: “Mais, Sire, pardonnez à ma témérité” (But, Sire, pardon my temer-ity; 4.3.1257). The language employed in this part of the exchange is clear and

22. Kettering, Patronage in Sixteenth- and Seventeenth-Century France, chap. 1, presents the bestsynthesis of scholarly work on the subject of patron-client relations.

23. Ibid., 131.24. High-ranking prisoners of war were often returned for ransom. See Rémy Ambühl,

Prisoners of War in the Hundred Years War: Ransom Culture in the Late Middle Ages (Cambridge:Cambridge University Press, 2013).

25. He will also ultimately offer Rodrigue Chimène’s hand and use the young hero’s lovefor her to keep him motivated to make war against the Moors.



largely without ornament, marked mainly by the locutionary force, or literalmeaning, of each utterance. In this way, the language itself reflects the concretenature of the services and advantages being exchanged.

Less tangible, but no less important to the performance is the second pro-cess of symbolic transaction, namely the exchange of honor and deference.The King bestows symbolic capital upon Rodrigue by honorifically naming himtwice over, first in his opening panegyric of Rodrigue and his family (4.3.1219–20) and second by (re-)naming him “Le Cid” (4.3.1233), a title of lordship thathe proclaims he shall not envy (4.3.1234). Fernand also honors him by a showof effusive, if not excessive deference in recognizing his indebtedness to Ro-drigue: “Pour te récompenser ma force est trop petite, / Et j’ai moins depouvoir que tu n’as de mérite” (My strength is too small to recompense you /and I have less power than you have merit; 4.3.1223–24); “Mon sceptre dansma main par la tienne affermi” (My scepter in my hand has been affirmed byyours; 4.3.1226); “Ne sont point des exploits qui laissent à ton Roi / Le moyenni l’espoir de s’acquitter vers toi” (Are not exploits that give your King / themeans nor the hope of acquitting my debts to you; 4.3.1229–30). Despite thissocial posturing of deference, the majority of these declarations have strongand regal enunciatory forces, falling into what Austin categorizes as verdictives(the exercise of judgment) and exercitives (the exercise of power/authority). Inthis way, the illocutionary meaning of these pronouncements establishes Fer-nand’s status as generous monarchical maître.26

Rodrigue duly returns symbolic capital to Fernand. Corneille consecrateseighty verses of act 4, scene 3 to Rodrigue performing a consummate act offidelity in transferring the glory of military victory to his king. As Jean Bodinposits in book 5, chapter 4 of the Six Livres de la République (1576) “The Princewho distributes recompense is more jealous of honor than of profit.” Knowingthis, Bodin advises that “the wise captain, in triumph after his victory, says tohis Prince while bowing his head: your victory is my glory.”27 With this sub-missive gesture and speech, the wise captain indicates that he is not a rivalto the monarch and in effect transfers the glory of victory to his king. Thistransference is indicated by the change in possessive pronouns in Bodin’s for-mulation: “his [i.e., the captain’s] victory” becomes “your [i.e., the monarch’s]victory.” Historically, such transferals took place when military generals relin-

26. See J. L. Austin, How to Do Things with Words (1962; repr., Cambridge, MA: HarvardUniversity Press, 1975), 151, 155–57. While Paul Scott has recently and convincingly argued thatFernand represents a weak king by all three of the prime attributes of kingship (political, militaryand judicial), linguistic analysis shows that Corneille endowed Fernand with a language of au-thority. See Scott, “Ma force est trop petite.”

27. Jean Bodin, Six livres de la République (Chicago: ARTFL, 2009), 153.



http://uchicago-prod.literatumonline.com/action/showLinks?crossref=10.1093%2Facprof%3Aoso%2F9780198245537.001.0001

quished prisoners and significant objects (enemy flags, swords, etc.) to the king,but also, and more importantly for our analysis, when the warrior declared thevictory not to be his own, but rather that of the monarch.

In the hypotyposis of act 4, scene 3, lines 1267–1339, Rodrigue delivers thebattle to his king via narrative and reciprocates Fernand’s generosity by dem-onstrating that he is not greedy in glory. Rodrigue’s lengthy and detailed retell-ing can be seen as a transfer of the victory from fidèle to maître since it allowsFernand to be “present” at the battle virtually through witnessing the narrative.Rodrigue also expressly specifies that he never cast himself as the agent ofglory, having relayed (fallaciously) to the other warriors that all military orderscame from the King (“Et je feins hardiment d’avoir reçu de vous / L’ordrequ’on me voit suivre, et que je donne à tous” [And I boldly feigned havingreceived from you / the order that they see me follow and that I disseminateto all]; 4.3.1281–82). He also finishes his account by reminding the King in nouncertain terms that, above all, he pursued these actions in service of his mon-arch: “C’est de cette façon que pour votre service” (It is in this way that foryour service; 4.3.1339). Rodrigue’s battle narrative is an archetype of Bodin’swise captain in action. Through language, he attributes glory back to the king.This is a crucial part of Rodrigue’s performance, since he thereby deicticallysignifies his military enterprise as having been an act of fidelity that shouldgarner masterly generosity, as opposed to having been an act of lèse-majestéthat would necessitate severe punishment.

Corneille furthers the symbolic exchange by alluding to feudalism. Koziolasserts that in feudalism, “petition and concession, humility and grace, depen-dence and dominance . . . were the categories that expressed the fundamentalpolitical relations” between vassal and lord.28 A culture of deference was aprimary marker in these relations and demonstrated acceptance of one’s rolein the political hierarchy. To communicate this deference, vassals traditionallyused regalian and theophanic linguistic registers. These terms included wordssuch as “grâces, bonté, bons offices, bienfaits, and bienveillance” (graces, goodness,services, good deeds, and benevolence).29 Whereas Guillèn de Castro uses theterms “lord” and “vassal” throughout his play, Corneille elects to employ amore contemporary vocabulary of “king” and “subject,” all the while maintain-ing feudalistic logic and tones of speech. In act 4, scene 3, Rodrigue adopts aregalian register as he communicates his humility and deferent duty (“QueVotre Majesté, Sire, épargne ma honte, / D’un si faible service elle fait trop de

28. Koziol, Begging Pardon and Favor, 81. The word fidèle was historically used to indicate“the vassals of a lord who had sworn faith to him” (47).

29. Kettering, Patronage, 137.



compte, / Et me force à rougir devant un si grand Roi / De mériter si peul’honneur que je reçois” [Would that Your Majesty, Sire, spare my shame /You make too much of too small a service / And force me to blush in front ofsuch a great King / To be undeserving of the honor that I receive]; 4.3.1239–42; “Je ferai seulement le devoir d’un sujet” [I would only be fulfilling thesubject’s duty]; 4.3.1246). He also deploys a theophanic lexicon that alludes tothe divinity of the monarchical office and his submission to it (“Je sais trop ceque je dois au bien de votre Empire / Et le sang qui m’anime et l’air que jerespire” [I know too well what I owe to the gift of your Empire / Both theblood that animates me and the air that I breathe]; 4.3.1243–44).30 Rodrigue’sstatement that the King’s empire forms the blood in his veins and the air thathe breathes conveys the purported oneness of maître and fidèle, a fusion thatwas meant to happen as “the fidèle espouses all the beliefs, all the wishes, allthe interests of his superior, of his king. He is now but one with him.”31 Whatis more, as Helen Harrison observes, “Don Fernand links himself to the younghero, Rodrigue’s fame to his. The personal pronouns in line 1238—tu, me, je,te—reinforce this association.”32

Though Corneille stages this language game as felicitous thus far, there isstill a missing element. Fidelity supposedly functions as a kind of promise withregard to past, present, and future intentions. As Shoshana Felman points outin her Austinian analysis of Molière’s Dom Juan (1665), the essential structureof the promise is that of lack.33 However, in fidelity as in promises, there is thedanger of insincerity. Molière’s Dom Juan, an expert performer in another typeof language game, declares his hypocrisy in act 5, scene 2: “Quoi? tu prendspour de bon argent ce que je viens de dire, et tu crois que ma bouche étaitd’accord avec mon cœur?” (What? you take what I just said for good moneyand you believe that my mouth was in accordance with my heart?).34 Read

30. Corneille filled these verses with the vocabulary of duty, which is a cornerstone of fidelity,since, as Mousnier (“Les fidélités et les clientèles,” 38) says, “everything that the fidèle owes hismaître, superior, or king, the maître, the superior, the king owes his subject.” In lines 1237–38,Fernand had already enunciated his duty as maître (“Et qu’il marque à tous ceux qui vivent sousmes lois / Et ce que tu me vaux et ce que je te dois” [And let it mark to all those who live undermy laws / Both what you are worth to me and what I owe to you]). These mirroring declarationsof duty announce a shared fidelity and respect for the roles that each individual plays in thepolitical and cosmological hierarchy.

31. Ibid., 38.32. Helen Harrison, “Payer ou Récompenser: Royal Gratitude in Le Cid,” French Review, 72,

no. 2 (1998): 6.33. Shoshana Felman, The Scandal of the Speaking Body: Don with J. L. Austin, or Seduction in

Two Languages (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2003).34. Molière, Le Tartuffe; Dom Juan; Le Misanthrope (Paris: Gallimard Folio Classique, 1971),

217 (partially quoted, in translation, by Feldman on 38).



inversely, Dom Juan’s avowal can serve as a heuristic for the functioning of fi-delity: in order for the promise to attain the status of “good money,” the mouthand the heart must be in agreement. With this structure in mind, Corneille buildsin a small, but nevertheless significant expression of the heart’s assent in act 4,scene 4 of Le Cid. He marks the conclusion to Fernand’s and Rodrigue’s perfor-mance of fidelity with an embrace (“Mais avant que sortir, viens que ton Roit’embrasse” [But before leaving, come let your King embrace you]; 4.4.1344).

This embrace is significant in multiple ways. It is a more modern manifes-tation of the kiss of equality in the formal rite of vassalage—the osculum orosculatio—that punctuates the ritual’s second phase of the fides, the oath of faithor fealty.35 This kiss communicates fides (faith, trust, confidence, reliance, be-lief ) and is the symbol of a promise made in good faith. In feudal ceremonial asin the picture of fidelity advanced by Corneille and Louis XIII (recall Gaston’sassurances, affection, zeal), this show of good faith and intent to loyal service isexpressed through terms and gestures of affection that act as a kind of guaran-tee, the gold that backs paper money.

The significance of Fernand’s embrace can be taken further still. In hisdiscussion of the osculum, Le Goff suggests that this kiss should not be equatedwith the liturgical kiss nor the kiss of peace, but rather one of betrothal that“marks the entry into a nonnatural family community, especially marriage.”36

Rodrigue’s delivery of the battle narrative is thus bookended by what Austinwould categorize as two commissives, or espousals, by Fernand. The first isverbal (though not a direct performative), as Fernand promises that he shall nolonger listen to Chimène except to comfort her (4.3.1255–56), and the second isnonverbal in the form of the embrace that “marries” Fernand and Rodrigue asmaître and fidèle. Fernand’s embrace comes across as genuine and unscripted,reflecting Mousnier’s claim that fidelity is a bond of affection that is natural,transparent, and authentic. The embrace appears to issue forth from a strongand true emotion, thus presenting a persuasive final image of he and Rodri-gue’s bona fide fidelity.

FIDÉLITÉS MANQUÉES : ABUSES, COMPLEXITIES, EXCLUSIONS

Despite this image of fidelity, Corneille builds a subtle, yet trenchant critiqueinto the picture, casting doubt by divulging the self-interestedness and badfaith of both fidèle and maître. For Rodrigue, as David Clarke notes, Corneillemakes it clear that the young hero does not defend Castille from the Moorsout of a sense of faithful duty to Fernand as maître, nor to protect his beloved

35. See Le Goff, Time, Work, and Culture, 242–43.36. Ibid., 256.



city and its inhabitants in the name of patriotism or Christianity. Rather, herides off to battle in total self-interest following his father’s suggestion thatwinning against the Moors will force the king to pardon him for the duel andconsequently silence Chimène (“force par ta vaillance / La justice au pardon etChimène au silence” [Force by your valiance / Justice to pardon and Chimèneto silence]; 3.6.1103–4).37 Also, as David Posner argues, Corneille insinuates agoodly dose of melodrama and artifice on Rodrigue’s part through his hyper-bolic speech: his mortification at receiving praise from such a powerful mon-arch for his anodyne service of saving the kingdom.38 Rodrigue is fully awareof the enormity of his military service and had pursued it in order to use it as abargaining chip with Fernand. Corneille goes further to accentuate Rodrigue’s“mauvaise foi” through his language during the battle narrative. As Paul Scottremarks, he is self-referential in designating agency for the victory (“sous moi”[under me], “par mon commandement” [by my command], “mon stratagème”[my strategy], “j’allais de tous côtés encourager les nôtres” [I went all overencouraging our men]).39 Rodrigue is, in this way, perhaps wiser than Bodin’swise captain since he not only placates the envious monarchical psychology butalso reserves quite a bit of glory for himself. Finally, Rodrigue does not demon-strate an affective bond to Fernand verbally or through gesture, if not for receiv-ing the embrace offered by the King. There is no further guarantee, no “goodmoney” to prove that his professions are made in good faith.

Fernand’s fidelity is equally suspect. According to Posner, he, too, is guiltyof exaggerating his weakness and incapacity to recompense, since immediatelyafter claiming his inability to reward Rodrigue he successfully does so in multi-ple ways. Why, then, would Fernand overstate his impotence and Rodrigue’sstrength in this way? Corneille offers the answer at several points in the play:such flattery is part of being the wise monarch counterpart to Bodin’s wisecaptain. Just as Louis XIII depended on Gaston, Soissons, and other princesand high-ranking nobles to command his armies, so Fernand needs Rodrigueto serve as his “Primary Defender of the Realm.”40 Rodrigue and Diègue had

37. Clarke, Pierre Corneille, 145–46. More strikingly, in the 1660 version of the play, Cor-neille hones the emphasis on the personal quality of the patron-client relation by replacing theobjective force of justice in line 1104 with the king himself, such that the statement became“force par ta vaillance / Ce Monarque au pardon, et Chimène au silence” (force by your valiance /This Monarque to pardon and Chimène to silence).

38. Posner, Performance of Nobility, 135–36.39. Scott, “Ma force est trop petite,” 296–97. The use of the first person possessive when

speaking of troops in combat for the crown would have been perceived as quite scandalous. SeeDavid Parrott, Richelieu’s Army: War, Government, and Society in France, 1624–1642 (Cambridge:Cambridge University Press, 2001).

40. Posner, Performance of Nobility, 7.



demonstrated their family’s extraordinary military power, not only throughtheir own martial activities, but also through their network of five hundredfriends and clients (3.6.1090) who went to battle with Rodrigue to conquer theMoors. Keeping Diègue and Rodrigue among Fernand’s fidèles implicated manymore people than the son-father duo. As a result, monarchs such as Louis XIIIand Fernand had to achieve a delicate balance with their primary defenders,at once empowering them—keeping them satisfied so that they would con-tinue their métier of arms and secure their clients in service of the crown’sinterests—and also keeping them in check with reminders of who is officiallyin power.41 In the final scene of the play, Fernand skillfully disguises his depen-dence on Rodrigue, encouraging him to once again seek war with the Moorsin the name of fidelity . . . to Chimène rather than to the King (5.7.1855–58). Ina Machiavellian twist, the wise king says whatever it takes to achieve his ends.

In this manner, Corneille besmirches what had seemed to be a paragon offidelity by showing Rodrigue and Fernand to be seducers like the later DomJuan, inveigling one another with insincere performances of loyalty to get whateach of them desired. If these characters are both faithful, Corneille indicatesthat first and foremost they are faithful to themselves. In Corneille’s jaded view,it was not necessary for Rodrigue and Fernand to make statements, gestures,or affective communications of fidelity that were in good faith or perfectly inkeeping with the rules. They had only be good actors and seducers who under-stand their audience, know their lines, and can deliver them convincingly.

The lack of sincerity that marks this language game of fidelity constituteswhat Austin categorizes as an “abuse.” These abuses do not negate the perfor-mance, but devalue it, which was precisely Corneille’s goal. The language gameof fidelity that supposedly formed the linchpin of French society and the Chris-tian monarchical worldview was nothing more than a well-designed and usefulchimera. In this way, the playwright confirmed Montaigne’s fears expressed inbook 1, chapter 25 (“De l’institution des enfants” [On the education of children])of the Essais regarding the moral and linguistic corruption of the courtier as afidèle who sacrifices his freedom and dignity by playing the game.

41. For more on Louis XIII’s and Richelieu’s management of the French army of nobles,see Parrott, Richelieu’s Army; Brian Sandberg, Warrior Pursuits: Noble Culture and Civil Conflict inEarly Modern France (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2010); Smith, Culture of Merit.Guy Rowlands addresses the subject during the reign of Louis XIV in The Dynastic State andthe Army under Louis XIV: Royal Service and Private Interest, 1661–1701 (New York: CambridgeUniversity Press, 2002). For a recent analysis of evolving notions and incarnations of absolutemonarchical power in early modern France, see the two-part series by Arlette Jouanna, Le Pouvoirabsolu: Naissance de l’imaginaire politique de la royauté (Paris: Gallimard, 2013) and Le Prince absolu:Apogée et déclin de l’imaginaire monarchique (Paris: Gallimard, 2014).



Equally salient in Corneille’s critique is the highly gendered aspect of politicalfidelity and the overt efforts made by male characters to exclude women fromparticipating in the language game.42 In a world where political fidelity oftenequates with military fidelity, Chimène is all too aware that she cannot providethe services most valued by the monarch and therefore shall be thwarted in herpursuit of justice. As Chimène notes, Rodrigue’s sword is as valuable as hertears are inconsequential:

Que pourraient contre lui des larmes qu’on méprise?Pour lui tout votre Empire est un lieu de franchise,Là sous votre pouvoir tout lui devient permis,Il triomphe de moi comme des ennemis.

[What harm against him could be caused by tears that are despised? Forhim your entire Empire is a place of impunity, there, under your power,all becomes permitted to him, he triumphs over me as he does enemies.]

(4.5.1387–90)

Instead of taking Chimène seriously as a political player who could engagein the language game of fidelity, Fernand constantly infantilizes and domesti-cates her. His responses to her official complaint against Rodrigue are highlyrevelatory in this regard. While Chimène lodges her grievance in the frame-work of juridical terms and rationale rather than that of personal lament, theKing responds by changing the register to that of the private and familial ashe offers himself up to serve as Chimène’s father instead of the public author-ity over the law (2.7.681–82). At the end of the scene, Fernand relegates Chi-mène to the private sphere. She is accompanied home by a gentleman whileDiègue is permitted to stay in the palace, the public place of rule and legal de-liberation (Fernand: “Don Sanche remettez Chimène en sa maison, / DonDiègue aura ma Cour et sa foi pour prison” [Don Sanche put Chimène in herhouse / Don Diègue will have my court and his loyalty for a prison]; 2.7.745–46). Fernand continues to domesticate Chimène and actively undermine thecredibility of her complaint by tricking her into revealing her love for Ro-drigue. Though Chimène shows both loyalty to the King and sincerity in herwords, it will never amount to fidelity in a patriarchal system that excludes her.Similarly, the Infante, who is never seen engaging in a political discussion withmen, is relegated to the space of the private sphere. Her title alone, which

42. See Greenberg, Corneille, Classicism and the Ruses of Symmetry, 49.



means both princess and infant, hints at the paradox of her high status and yetdiminished position and linguistic capacity in the game of political fidelity.

In this vein, Corneille’s Infante in Le Cid prefigures Doña Isabelle in theheroic comedy Don Sanche d’Aragon (1651). Isabelle gains access to the lan-guage game of political fidelity since she serves as acting queen following thedeath of her father.43 Her temporary access to direct rule—the play centers onher selection of a spouse who will become king and thereby assume the helmof political leadership—allows her to carry out commitments of fidelity to hersubjects, a process that Corneille shows to be riddled with dangers and mis-fires. In act 1, scene 3, Isabelle demands verbal pledges of fidelity from herthree noble suitors, but does not offer a pledge in return. She then moves tofulfill her father’s obligation as maître to the valiant warrior fidèle Carlos, whois a commoner, in a wholly uncommon way: she ennobles him in reward forhis service and so that he, too, can become her official suitor along with theother three noblemen. In her faithful acts toward Carlos, Isabelle’s word andheart speak the same language, though not out of transparent political fidelityor reason of state. Rather, she pursues this fulfillment of fidelity out of per-sonal interest, and indeed passion since she is in love with him as she explainsin act 2, scene 1 (a rather bold theatrical echo of contemporary accusationsagainst regent Anne d’Autriche and her amorous motivations for giving powerto first minister Mazarin). Not only is Isabelle’s purported fidelity to Carlos adirect insult to the identities and fidelities of the three counts who court her,but Corneille later shows that she is incapable of sustaining political relationsand speech. In act 2, scene 2, Isabelle’s rhetoric of fidelity (albeit clumsy sinceshe speaks of “paying” him) and Carlos’s appropriate response in regalian reg-ister suddenly explode into romantic declarations worthy of Verdian opera.While Isabelle gains access to the system of political fidelity, she inhabits it tem-porarily, awkwardly, and even dangerously, in many ways legitimating the tenetsof Salic law.

Queen Doña Isabelle and princess Doña Elvire are both vehicles throughwhich male characters can ascend to royal power as well as figures through

43. The absence of the “ruling” male was an enabling condition for female rise to politicaland military agency during the Frondes, as Sophie Vergnes and others have discussed. SophieVergnes has written a doctoral thesis and many articles on this subject, as well as a recent bookentitled Les Frondeuses, une révolte au féminin (1643–1661) (Seyssel: Champ Vallon, 2013). Onthe frondeuses, see Faith Beasley, Revising Memory: Women’s Fiction and Memoirs in Seventeenth-Century France (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1990); Joan DeJean, Tender Geog-raphies: Women and the Origins of the Novel in France (New York: Columbia University Press,1991); Dominique Godineau, “De la guerrière à la citoyenne: Porter les armes pendant l’AncienRégime et la Révolution française,” CLIO: Histoire, Femmes et Sociétés 20:43–69; Sylie Steinberg,Le travestissement en France à l’époque moderne: XVIe–XVIIIe siècles (Lille: ANRT, 1999).



which Corneille could present another conundrum of fidelity: that of compet-ing fidelities of the same type and degree, but to two different people. Carlos,who professes to be in love with Isabelle and Elvire, as well as serving as po-litical fidèle to each of them, finds himself in an unresolvable predicament ofdoubling fidelities. This bind can only be solved by the revelation of his trueidentity as prince Don Sanche d’Aragon, a status that rather miraculously per-mits his romantic and political fidelities to coexist in adjusted form.

CONCLUSION

From the wastelands of political fidelity in La Mort de Pompée (1643) andSertorius (1662) to the ultimate triumphs of multilayered and intertwined fi-delities in Cinna and Nicomède (1651), Corneille would continue to develop hisinterest in fidelity as a tenuous relationship of movement, paradox, and con-version.44 In later works, Corneille would return to the motifs and themes offidelity discussed in this article, developing them further and experimentingwith different contexts and outcomes. For example, while the question of theheart and emotional ties in the bond of fidelity is embryonic in Le Cid, Cor-neille develops this thematic much more fully in later works. In Cinna, Cor-neille features the heart as central motif and the locus of conversion back tofidelity for both Cinna and Emilie. The inclusion of the latter is notable con-sidering the marginalizing of Chimène and the Infante in Le Cid and his latertreatment of Doña Isabelle in Don Sanche d’Aragon. Following Auguste’s showof fidelity to Cinna and Maxime in act 2, scene 1, Cinna’s hesitations with re-gard to the assassination plot are of emotional origin, emanating from the heart:“je sens au fond du cœur mille remords cuisants” (I feel a thousand sting-ing regrets in the bottom of my heart; 3.2.803). Corneille imagines that becom-ing an infidèle to a meritorious maître can cause immeasurable emotional suf-fering. Following Auguste’s magnanimous pardon, all competing fidelities arereconciled and Cinna can reinhabit his heart of a fidèle (“ma vertu dans moncœur rappelée” [my virtue recalled to my heart]; 5.3.1745). It is also Emilie’sheart that marks her return to fidelity and her heart is presented as the fidèleitself (“ce cœur devient sujet fidèle” [this heart becomes faithful subject]; 5.3.1726).

Corneille brings another level of complexity to the question of fidelity andthe heart in Nicomède (1651). In this play, he investigates overlapping filial andpolitical fidelities as well as the notion that the heart could function not as aguarantor of fidelity, but rather a destructive force. In act 2, scene 2, prince

44. For a nuanced analysis of Clitandre read through the political context of the 1630s, seeClarke, Pierre Corneille, 119–31.



Nicomède and his father Prusias engage in a language game of fidelity to re-solve the conflict of Nicomède’s returning home from the army without beingsummoned, which for anyone other than the prince would be a capital offense(2.2.473–80). Nicomède acknowledges that his desires to bring his father thecrown of the conquered, to receive his embraces, and to see him happy wereinjudicious. He explains that it was precisely his heart (“mon cœur impru-dent” [my imprudent heart]; 2.2.481) and love (“L’amour que j’ai pour vous acommis cette offense” [The love that I have for you committed this offense];2.2.483) for Prusias as a father that led him astray from his duty to his fatheras king. Nicomède’s erroneous heart, which betrayed rather than affirmed hisfidelity to Prusias, is actually a pretext, of course, since Corneille divulges inthe first scene of the play that Nicomède’s return had more to do with his ro-mantic fidelity to Laodice (1.1.1–10) and his project to reveal the murderousmachinations of the queen who sent assassins to the army to kill the prince(1.1.99–110). Appealing to Prusias at once as a son and a valuable (if poten-tially threatening) fidèle was part of Nicomède’s plan from the beginning.45

Seen from the vantage point of fidelity, Prusias’s weakness as a monarchtakes on a new meaning and interest. Rather than a monolithically spinelessking, Prusias is perhaps humanized when one acknowledges that he has theunenviable position of being the epicenter of competing fidelities: to his sonNicomède, to his wife Arsinoé and stepson Attale, to his people as king, toRome, and to the iniquitous Roman ambassador, Flavinius. With regard to thelatter, Timothy Hampton has shown that questions of fidelity and infidelityanimated early modern diplomacy and its literary representations.46 Indeed,during the first half of the seventeenth century, an era of powerful principalministres, foreign wars, and civil revolts funded by foreign powers, questionsof fidelity to ministers and foreign leaders was resonant and even urgent.47 AsCorneille is well aware and explains in the preface to the play, this knot offidelities did not end well in the historical episode described by Justin in theUniversal History: Nicomède kills his father in cold blood.48 For those who knewof the true history of Nicomède and Prusias, Corneille’s sunny ending to the

45. Nicomède is hardly a paragon of fidelity, making both veiled and open political threatsto his father later in the play (see, e.g., 4.2.1242–54, 4.4.1348–62).

46. See Timothy Hampton, Fictions of Embassy: Literature and Diplomacy in Early Modern Cul-ture (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2009). His analysis of Nicomède brings interestinginsights into the play from the angle of international diplomacy.

47. See the preface “Au lecteur” of 1651 and the “Examen” of 1660 for details on Corneille’sparticular interests in his depictions Flavinius and Rome as fueling in the bullying and manip-ulative “politique” that opposed Nicomède’s “grandeur de courage.”

48. Corneille references bk. 34, chap. 4 in the Elzivirian edition of Roman historian Justin’sUniversal History, published in 1640.



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play masked the potentially deadly stakes of conflicting fidelities in politicallyhazardous times.49

In his final tragedy, Suréna, however, Corneille did not avoid the gravity ofa dénouement of assassination. He returns to the motifs of language gamesand the heart in a most dystopic vision of political fidelity. All three of the play-ers—Suréna as military fidèle and King Orode and Prince Pacorus as maîtres—are shown to be infidels. Pacorus knows the language game of fidelity, butperforms it poorly as he addresses Suréna in act 2, scene 1. His self-servingmotivation and insincerity in engaging in the game are far too clear. What ismore, Corneille had already established Pacorus as an infidel in love since heabandoned Palmis (in 1.2.209 Eurydice refers to him as “l’infidèle”). Orode,for his part, does not have a heart of love and affection for Suréna, but rather,as he admits himself, “tout un cœur . . . ingrat” (all my heart . . . ungrateful;3.1.708). Suréna is no less guilty, refusing to engage in the language game offidelity with his maîtres on multiple occasions (2.1.361–63), causing misfires,and issuing veiled threats rather than transparent speech (4.4.1355–58). AsCorneille had more subtly indicated in Le Cid and again in Nicomède with thelatter’s ability to quell the masses, for Orode, Suréna’s simultaneous value andthreat was his personal military prowess as well as his network of fidèles:

Vous possédez sous moi deux provinces entièresDe peuples si hardis, de nations si fières,Que sur tant de vassaux je n’ai d’autoritéQu’autant que votre zèle a de fidélité.Ils vous ont jusqu’ici suivi comme fidèle,Et quand vous le voudrez, ils vous suivront rebelle.

[Under me you possess two entire provinces of people so bold, of nationsso proud, that i do not have authority over these vassals except in as muchas your zeal for me has fidelity. They followed you here as faithful ones,and when you want it, they will follow you as rebels.]

(3.2.885–90)

The fidelity of Orode’s own subjects was in fact mediated by Suréna’s fidel-ity, which he would ultimately not give to his king. Suréna withholds the mostimportant guarantee of his political fidelity—his heart (“Mais si je lui dois tout,

49. Corneille remarked on the irregularity of the play’s ending and justified it in the“Examen” as having been an attempt to satisfy his audiences who were accustomed to seeingall of the characters together on stage in the final scene.



mon cœur ne lui doit rien” [But if I owe him everything my heart owes himnothing]; 5.2.1524). In this bleak vision, Suréna’s heart and tongue devoted infidelity to Eurydice are not victorious, but resigned to tragedy: “toujours aimer,souffrir, mourir” (always to love, to suffer, to die; 1.3.349).50

As these further examples evince, Corneille’s career-long exploration of thevicissitudes of fidelity would continue to illuminate the relationship betweenspeech and the heart, the spectrum of changing power relations in vertical andhorizontal attachments to others, and the challenge of fulfilling different typesof fidelity simultaneously and in equal degree. From this broader perspective,several conclusions can be advanced regarding Corneille’s treatment of fidelityand its significance, most notably as a form of political thought.

First, if competing fidelities resolve themselves to the relative satisfaction ofall parties as in Le Cid and Cinna, such mutualistic outcomes are decidedly inthe minority in Corneille’s oeuvre. What is more, even in these successfulcases, Corneille systematically undermines the pristine facade of such relationsto show faltering in loyalty, sincerity, and the supposed union of word, action,and sentiment that constitute fidelity. This is particularly so in his vision ofpolitical fidelity, which he showed not to be a deep ideological and affective tie,but rather a self-interested language game deployed in specific circumstances,most often to build personal credit or to smooth over, if not merely defer, con-flict and crisis. Corneille’s amalgamation of vocabularies and characteristics as-sociated with patronage-clientage, feudalism, and fidelity suggests that in thelate Renaissance these categories of relationality should perhaps not only beunderstood in literal terms, but also literary ones: linguistic and behavioralmodes that could be utilized freely and consciously to navigate social and politi-cal relations. Corneille’s depictions of wise captains and monarchs present thenuanced performative and linguistic art of turning these relationships to one’sadvantage, thereby championing the héros as a sort of orator, as Marc Fumaroliand Hélène Merlin-Kajman have described.51 Depicting heroic oration in thisway, he denudes the ideological and ethical aura of fidelity to expose an imageof fidelity and its language as realpolitik. Corneille’s fidelity as a relationship ofconcern for self and other, or concern for self through others, harked back to

50. Despite the predominantly dark images of fidelity in Nicomède and Suréna, I do not seethem as evidence to support the interpretations of cornelian “demolition critics.” On the con-trary, as Corneille’s prefaces and creative liberties in both plays display, he was interested in con-tinuing to put forward images of superior humans dealing more (Nicomède) or less (Suréna)well with the challenges of their historical circumstances.

51. Marc Fumaroli, Héros et orateurs: Rhétorique et dramaturgie cornéliennes (Paris: Droz,1996); and Merlin-Kajman, Public et littérature en France au XVIIe siècle (Paris: Les Belles Lettres,1994), esp. chap. 7.



an Aristotelian notion of political friendship and participates in the emergingtheorization of self-interest that Pierre Force and others have traced.52 As such,fidelity was neither a viable alternative to Machiavellian raison d’état as cer-tain political and theological thinkers of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuryopined, nor was it the total and transparent allegiance of the “société de fidèles”that Mousnier imagines.53

Second, Corneille’s portrayal of fidelity also makes an important interven-tion in what Jouanna calls the “political imaginary” surrounding kingship andpower.54 Examining canonical as well as lesser-known political writings by ju-rists and publicists of the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, Jouannademonstrates the clear movement away from reason-based institutional monar-chy toward arguments in favor of a divine-right theory of kingship upholdingthe sacred, indivisible, and individual power of the monarch. Representing aprivileged bridge between the celestial and terrestrial domains, the king alonehad the power and capacity to determine what political action was reasonableand righteous. Corneille’s incessant attention to fidelity counters the imaginaryof unilateral monarchical power with one of shared power across a “politicalclass” that included mighty lords and most especially mighty warriors. The ne-gotiations of fidelity in his plays bring focus to the mechanisms as opposed tothe ideologies of power. Corneille’s spotlighting of figures like Rodrigue andSuréna emphasize such individuals as a critical link in the social and politicalhierarchy, ones whose willingness to play the language game of fidelity engagedtheir own service, but also that of their clients. In the years of increasing powerof Condé and the “condéistes,” not to mention the pushback by the parlementsand noble revolt of the Frondes, Corneille’s political imaginary perhaps rangmore true to audiences than any absolutist dogma.

Finally, Corneille’s theatrical representations of fidelity played a key role infashioning fidelity as a subject of contemplation and debate in his time. Fidelity

52. For historical analyses of politics and friendship from Greek antiquity to the twentiethcentury, see Friendship and Politics: Essays in Political Thought, ed. John von Heyking and RichardAvramenko (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2008). On self-interest duringthis period, see, e.g., Pierre Force, Self-Interest before Adam Smith: A Genealogy of Economic Sci-ence (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007); and Stephen Shapiro, “A Romance HeroUnmasked: The Pursuit of Self-Interest in La Rochefoucauld’s Mémoires,” Seventeenth-CenturyFrench Studies 28 (1): 161–71.

53. Among others, see Jesuit Pedro de Ribadeneira’s Tratado de la religión y virtudes que debetener el príncipe cristiano para gobernar y conservar sus Estados. Contra lo que Nicolás Machiavelo ylos políticos de este tiempo enseñan (Madrid, 1595), a work that was translated and published intoFrench in 1610.

54. See Jouanna, Le Pouvoir absolu and Le Prince absolu. Also on kingship in Corneille, seeScott, “Ma force est trop petite”; and Bilis, “Corneille’s Œdipe.”



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was not a novel literary topos when Le Cid was first staged in 1637, however ithad largely received thin and monolithic treatment. In the famed serial pastoralnovel L’Astrée (1607–27), for example, Honoré d’Urfé employed the terminol-ogy of fidelity hundreds of times but merely glossed over it in reference tofriendship and romantic relationships. Corneille created a veritable taxonomyof fidelity, elaborating its different modes, processes, and conflicts as well assharpening it as a political issue. His portrayal of political fidelity as a perfor-mance was a subtle, but searing indication that absolutist affect was often astrategy rather than a genuine emotional bond. Corneille’s treatment of fidelityis therefore an important example of the way that literature and the performingarts were vehicles of political commentary and critique in seventeenth-centuryFrance.55 Expanding and defining fidelity in dramatic form, Pierre Corneilleinvited his burgeoning public to view their society through the prism of fidelityand perhaps to become wise captains themselves.

55. Christian Jouhaud, Les pouvoirs de la littérature: Histoire d’un paradoxe (Paris: Gallimard,2000).



"Words of the 'Wise Captain': Pierre Corneille, Le Cid, and Fidelity," Renaissance Drama (U Chicago Press), Vol. 43, No. 1, Spring 2015, 27-52.

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