XV. One knocked at the doorway, and they heard the tidings then. God wot the Abbot Sancho was the happiest of men. With the lights and with the candles to the court they ran forth right, And him who in good hour was born they welcomed in delight. "My lord Cid," quoth the Abbot, "Now God be praised of grace! Do thou accept my welcome, since I see thee in this place." And the Cid who in good hour was born, hereunto answered he: "My thanks to thee, don Sancho, I am content with thee. For myself and for my vassals provision will I make. Since I depart to exile, these fifty marks now take. If I may live my life-span, they shall be doubled you. To the Abbey not a groatsworth of damage will I do. For my lady do I give you an hundred marks again, Herself, her dames and daughters for this year do you maintain. I leave two daughters with you, but little girls they be. In thine arms keep them kindly. I commend them here to thee. Don Sancho do thou guard them, and of my wife take care. If thou wantest yet and lackest for anything whate'er, Look well to their provision, thee I conjure once more, And for one mark that thou spendest the Abbey shall have four." And with glad heart the Abbot his full assent made plain. And lo! the Dame Xiména came with her daughters twain. Each had her dame-in-waiting who the little maiden bore. And Dame Xiména bent the knee before the Campeador. And fain she was to kiss his hand, and, oh, she wept forlorn! "A boon! A boon! my Campeador. In a good hour wert thou born. And because of wicked slanderers art thou banished from the land. XVI. "Oh Campeador fair-bearded, a favor at thy hand! Behold I kneel before thee, and thy daughters are here with me, That have seen of days not many, for children yet they be, And these who are my ladies to serve my need that know. Now well do I behold it, thou art about to go. Now from thee our lives a season must sunder and remove, But unto us give succor for sweet Saint Mary's love." The Cid, the nobly bearded, reached down unto the twain, And in his arms his daughters has lifted up again, And to his heart he pressed them, so great his love was grown, And his tears fell fast and bitter, and sorely did he moan: "Xiména as mine own spirit I loved thee, gentle wife; But o'er well dost thou behold it, we must sunder in our life. I must flee and thou behind me here in the land must stay. Please God and sweet Saint Mary that yet upon a day I shall give my girls in marriage with mine own hand rich and well, And thereafter in good fortune be suffered yet to dwell, May they grant me, wife, much honored, to serve thee then once more."