Ballads, Spanish; Legends -- Spain; Spanish literature -- History and criticism
When they had gone the Cid struck his camp and galloped through the
night to the monastery of San Pedro de Cardeña, where his lady, Donna
Ximena, and his two young daughters lay. He found them deeply engaged
in prayer for his welfare, and they received him with heartfelt
expressions of joy. Taking the Abbot aside, the Cid explained to
him that he was about to fare forth on adventure in the country of
the Moors, and tendered him such a sum as would provide for the
maintenance of Donna Ximena and her daughters until his return,
as well as a goodly bounty for the convent's sake.
By this time tidings of the Cid's banishment had gone through the land
broadcast, and so great was the fame of his prowess that cavaliers from
near and far flocked to his banner. When he put foot in stirrup at
the bridge of Arlanza a hundred and fifty gentlemen had assembled to
follow his fortunes. The parting with his wife and daughters presents
a poignant picture of leave-taking:
Sharp as the pain when finger-nails are wrenched from off the hand,
So felt the Cid this agony, but turned him to his band,
And vaulted in the saddle, and forth led his menie,
But ever and anon he turned his streaming eyes to see
Dear faces he might see no more, till blunt Minaya, irked
To see the yearning and regret that on his heartstrings worked,
Cried out, "O born in happy hour, [30] let not thy soul be sad:
The heart of knight on venture bound should never but be glad.
The heavy sorrow of to-day will prove to-morrow's joy.
What grief can bide the trumpets' sound, what woe the battle's
ploy?"
Giving rein to their steeds, they galloped forth of the bounds of
Christian Spain and, crossing the river Duero on rafts, stood upon
Moorish soil. Far to the west they could see the slender minarets
of the Saracen city of Ahilon glittering in the high sun of noon,
emblematic of the rich treasure they had come to win in the land
of the paynim. At Higeruela still more good lances rallied to the
Cid's banners, border men to whom the foray was a holiday and the
breaking of spears the sweetest music. As he slept that night the
Cid dreamed that the Archangel Gabriel appeared to him and said:
"Mount, O Cid Campeador, mount and ride. Thy cause is just. Whilst
thou livest thou shalt prosper!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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