Full fifteen days together at the wedding they remain. The fifteen days well nigh are done; homeward the nobles ride. My lord Cid don Rodrigo who was born in a good tide Of the mules and the palfreys and the battle-chargers swift, Of beasts alone an hundred has granted forth in gift, And cloaks, fur capes, and raiment of other sort great store, and bestowed wealth in money in abundance furthermore. The vassals of my lord the Cid, for they had counselled so, For their part bridal tokens upon the guests bestow. He came by great possession whoso thereof was fain, Who was at the bridal, wealthy came to Castile again. Now are all these guests together about to ride away; To Roy Diaz in good hour born their last devoirs they pay, And likewise to the ladies, and his men of high descent. My lord Cid and his vassals they left in high content. They said much honor of them as was indeed their due. Diégo and Ferrándo were passing merry too; Of the Count don Gonzálvo they were the children twain. And now the guests came homeward unto Castile again. The Cid and his two sons-in-law in Valencia they stay. There dwell the Heirs until two years have well nigh passed away. It was a mighty welcome in that city that they had. The Cid and all his vassals were all exceeding glad. Saint Mary and our Father, may it please them to consent That the Cid and he who wrought it with the bridal be content. Of this Cantar the couplets come now unto their end. The Saints and the Creator preserve you and defend. CANTAR III THE AFFRONT OF CORPES CXII. The Cid lay in Valencia with all his men beside; With him the Heirs of Carrión his sons-in-law abide. Upon his couch to slumber lay the good Campeador. There fell a hard occasion, a thing they looked not for. From his cage came forth the lion, from his bonds he broke away. All men throughout the palace in mighty dread were they. 'Neath the arm the Campeador his men their mantles up have ta'en, About his couch they gathered, and beside their lord remain. As for Ferránd Gonzálvez the Heir of Carrión, He saw no place to hide in; chamber or tower was none. Beneath the seat he crouched him so mighty was his dread. And Dídago Gonzálvez out through the doorway fled, Crying aloud: "Wo! Carrión no more shall I behold." Beneath a wine-press timber he hid in fear untold. Thence he brought cloak and tunic all filthy and forlorn. With that he woke from slumber, who in happy hour was born, And saw his good men round his couch in a close ring that stood. "Now what is this my henchmen ~ What is it that ye would?"