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Translated by John Hookham Frere
THEY fain would sally forth, but he the noble Cid | |
| Accounted it as rashness, and constantly forbid. | |
| The fourth week was beginning, the third already past, | |
| The Cid and his companions they are now agreed at last. | |
| “The water is cut off, the bread is wellnigh spent, | 5 |
| To allow us to depart by night the Moors will not consent. | |
| To combat with them in the field our numbers are but few, | |
| Gentlemen, tell me your minds, what do you think to do?” | |
| Minaya Alvar Fañez answered him again, | |
| “We are come here from fair Castile to live like banished men. | 10 |
| There are here six hundred of us, beside some nine or ten; | |
| It is by fighting with the Moors that we have earned our bread, | |
| In the name of God that made us, let nothing more be said, | |
| Let us sally forth upon them by the dawn of day.” | |
| The Cid replied, “Minaya, I approve of what you say, | 15 |
| You have spoken for the best, and had done so without doubt.” | |
| The Moors that were within the town they took and turned them out, | |
| That none should know their secret; they labored all that night, | |
| They were ready for the combat with the morning light. | |
| The Cid was in his armor mounted at their head, | 20 |
| He spoke aloud amongst them, you shall hear the words he said: | |
| “We must all sally forth! There cannot a man be spared, | |
| Two footmen only at the gates to close them and keep guard; | |
| If we are slain in battle they will bury us here in peace, | |
| If we survive and conquer, our riches will increase. | 25 |
| And you, Pero Bermuez, the standard you must bear, | |
| Advance it like a valiant man, evenly and fair; | |
| But do not venture forward before I give command.” | |
| Bermuez took the standard, he went and kissed his hand. | |
| The gates were then thrown open, and forth at once they rushed, | 30 |
| The outposts of the Moorish host back to the camp were pushed; | |
| The camp was all in tumult, and there was such a thunder | |
| Of cymbals and of drums, as if earth would cleave in sunder. | |
| There you might see the Moors arming themselves in haste, | |
| And the two main battles how they were forming fast: | 35 |
| Horsemen and footmen mixed, a countless troop and vast. | |
| The Moors are moving forward, the battle soon must join, | |
| “My men, stand here in order, ranged upon a line! | |
| Let not a man move from his rank before I give the sign.” | |
| Pero Bermuez heard the word, but he could not refrain. | 40 |
| He held the banner in his hand, he gave his horse the rein; | |
| “You see yon foremost squadron there, the thickest of the foes, | |
| Noble Cid, God be your aid, for there your banner goes! | |
| Let him that serves and honors it show the duty that he owes.” | |
| Earnestly the Cid called out, “For Heaven’s sake, be still!” | 45 |
| Bermuez cried, “I cannot hold,” so eager was his will. | |
| He spurred his horse, and drove him on amid the Moorish rout; | |
| They strove to win the banner, and compassed him about. | |
| Had not his armor been so true he had lost either life or limb; | |
| The Cid called out again, “For Heaven’s sake succor him!” | 50 |
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| Their shields before their breasts, forth at once they go, | |
| Their lances in the rest levelled fair and low; | |
| Their banners and their crests waving in a row, | |
| Their heads all stooping down toward the saddle-bow. | |
| The Cid was in the midst, his shout was heard afar, | 55 |
| “I am Rui Diaz, the Champion of Bivar; | |
| Strike amongst them, gentlemen, for sweet mercies’ sake!” | |
| There where Bermuez fought, amidst the foe they brake, | |
| Three hundred bannered knights, it was a gallant show: | |
| Three hundred Moors they killed, a man with every blow; | 60 |
| When they wheeled and turned, as many more lay slain, | |
| You might see them raise their lances and level them again. | |
| There you might see the breastplates, how they were cleft in twain, | |
| And many a Moorish shield lie shattered on the plain. | |
| The pennons that were white marked with a crimson stain, | 65 |
| The horses running wild whose riders had been slain. | |
| The Christians call upon St. James, the Moors upon Mahound, | |
| There were thirteen hundred of them slain on a little spot of ground. * * * * * | |
| The Cid rode to King Fariz, and struck at him three blows; | |
| The third was far the best, it forced the blood to flow: | 70 |
| The stream ran from his side, and stained his arms below; | |
| The King caught round the rein and turned his back to go, | |
| The Cid has won the battle with that single blow. | |
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