To his own Suelos on the hill (for indeed all these great doings were confined to a very narrow space), the Cid conducts his bride, to place her under his mother’s keeping, and as his foot touches his own threshold, under the escutcheon of his race, he pauses and kisses her on the cheek. “By the love I bear you, dear Ximena, I swear that I will never set eyes on you again until I have won five pitched battles against the Moors.” Again he kisses her, drying her tears; then goes out to the frontier of Aragon, taking with him his trusty knights. CHAPTER XXX Death of King Fernando--Doña Urraca at Zamora After this there was a great change. The good king Fernando fell ill with the malady of which he died. For three days he lay on his bed lamenting in pain; on the fourth, at the hour of _sexte_, he called to him his son Don Sancho, and recommended him to the Cid, to give him good counsel, and not to go against his will, which was to divide the kingdom into three parts, a most unaccountable act, seeing that all his life he had been fighting to maintain it united. With Don Sancho came the other Infantes, Alfonso and Garcia, and stood round his bed--all three comely youths, and very expert in knightly exercises, but as yet too young to carry a beard. Alfonso and Garcia were well contented with their kingdom, but Don Sancho, the eldest, was wroth against his father, and already turned in his mind how he could overcome his brothers and possess Castile and Leon alone. Fernando, suffering great anguish, had turned his face to the wall to die, when his daughter Doña Urraca came rushing in. “Oh, father!” cries she, kissing his hand, “if God had not laid His hand upon you, and brought you to this death hour, I should reproach you bitterly. It is well known you have meted out your kingdom between my three brothers. To me alone you give nothing. Why should your daughter be left to be blown like a waif before the wind? Whither can I fly? Shall I address myself to the Moors for protection. A fine sight, indeed, will it be to see a king’s daughter brought to such a pass!” Now Doña Urraca was a princess of great presence and power in her speech. Her words were cutting, and they roused even the dying king. Slowly he turned on his side to look at her, and though his lips were already livid his eyes showed he understood; thrice he essayed to speak; at last, between pangs of mortal pain, the words came forth: “Cease, Urraca, cease; a noble mother bore you, but a churlish slave gave you milk. Take Zamora for your portion; may my curse fall on any of your brothers who take it from you.” “Swear to me, my sons.” “Amen,” answered Don Alfonso heartily, for he loved his sister. Don Garcia, the youngest, repeated the same; only Don Sancho moved his lips, but no word came. * * * * *