The Song of the Cid Page 11
“Soldiers, listen to me! You who believe in our God!
Ever since we left Christian-clean lands—
By neither choice nor desire: there was no other way—
By God’s great grace, we have prospered.
Valencia has now besieged us,
And if we want to linger where we’ve come,
We need to give these people a heavy-handed lesson.
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“Let the night go by, but tomorrow at daybreak
I want to see you armed and already mounted,
So we can pay a visit to that army out there,
And I can see just who among you exiles from another land
Really deserves his soldier’s wages!”
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And then Minaya Alvar Fáñez spoke:
“O Warrior, we’ll do what we’re told to.
Let me have a hundred knights, I ask for no more.
You and all the others attack them straight on:
You’ll hit them hard, I know you will.
And I with my hundred knights will strike from the side.
By my faith in God, the field will be ours!”
Como ge lo á dicho, al Campeador mucho plaze.
Mañana era e piénsanse de armar,
quis cada uno d’ellos bien sabe lo que ha de far.
Con los alvores Mio Cid ferirlos va:
“¡En el nombre del Criador e del apóstol Sancti Yagüe,
feridlos, cavalleros, d’amor e de grado e de grand voluntad,
ca yo só Rruy Díaz, Mio Cid el de Bivar!”
Tanta cuerda de tienda í veriedes quebrar,
arrancarse las estacas e acostarse a todas partes los tendales.
[Los] moros son muchos, ya quieren rreconbrar.
Del otra part entróles Álbar Fáñez,
maguer les pesa, oviéronse a dar e a arrancar,
de pies de cavallo los ques’ pudieron escapar.
Grand es el gozo que va por és logar;
dos rreyes de moros mataron en és alcanz,
fata Valencia duró el segudar.
Grandes son las ganancias que Mio Cid fechas ha,
rrobavan el campo e piénsanse de tornar.
Prisieron Cebolla e quanto que es í adelant,
entravan a Murviedro con estas ganancias que traen grandes.
Las nuevas de Mio Cid, sabet, sonando van,
miedo an en Valencia que non saben qué se far.
Sonando van sus nuevas allent parte del mar.
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Alegre era el Cid e todas sus compañas
que Dios le ayudara e fıziera esta arrancada.
Davan sus corredores e fazién las trasnochadas,
llegan a Gujera e llegan a Xátiva,
aún más ayusso a Deyna la casa;
cabo del mar tierra de moros fırme la quebranta,
ganaron Peña Cadiella, las exidas e las entradas.
The Warrior was more than merely satisfied.
Morning came, and they put on their armor,
Each man in the army knew what he had to do.
My Cid attacked at dawn’s first light:
“In the name of God and the apostle Saint James,
At them, knights, with zest, and pleasure, and delight!
Because I am Cid, Ruy Díaz from Vivar!”
You should have seen the tent ropes snap,
Their poles yanked from the ground, canvas flapping, sagging.
There were a lot of Moors, they tried to stand and fight.
Then Alvar Fáñez came at them, from the other side:
Not wanting to retreat, they had to run or ride (if they could) for
their lives.
The battlefield became a happy place.
Two Moorish kings were killed, trying to escape;
The chase ran all the way to Valencia.
My Cid had won enormous booty.
They turned and took Cebolla and everything all around it,
Then stripped the field and rode back to Murviedro with their
loot.
Word of what my Cid had done, believe me, spread like fire,
Valencia was at a loss, and terrified.
The news went traveling over the ocean, spread far and wide.
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My Cid and his men were glad that God had helped them
And made this victory happen.
They sent out raiding parties, riding at night,
Reaching Cullera, and then Játiva,
Roaming south, even as far as Denia,
Harassing and burning Moorish towns along the coast
And capturing Benicadell, and all roads leading in and out.
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Quando el Cid Campeador ovo Peña Cadiella,
ma[l] les pesa en Xátiva e dentro en Gujera,
non es con rrecabdo el dolor de Valencia.
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En tierra de moros prendiendo e ganando
e durmiendo los días e las noches tranochando,
en ganar aquellas villas Mio Cid duró tres años.
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A los de Valencia escarmentados los ha,
non osan fueras exir nin con él se ajuntar;
tajávales las huertas e fazíales grand mal,
en cada uno d’estos años Mio Cid les tollió el pan.
Mal se aquexan los de Valencia que non sabent qués’ far,
de ninguna part que sea non les vinié pan;
nin da cossejo padre a fıjo, nin fıjo a padre,
nin amigo a amigo nos’ pueden consolar.
Mala cueta es, señores, aver mingua de pan,
fıjos e mugieres verlo[s] murir de fanbre.
Delante veyén so duelo, non se pueden uviar,
por el rrey de Marruecos ovieron a enbiar;
con el de los Montes Claros avié guerra tan grand,
non les dixo cossejo nin los vino uviar.
Sópolo Mio Cid, de coraçón le plaz,
salió de Murviedro una noch en trasnochada,
amaneció a Mio Cid en tierras de Mon Rreal.
Por Aragón e por Navarra pregón mandó echar,
a tierras de Castiella enbió sus mensajes:
quien quiere perder cueta e venir a rritad,
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When my Cid, the Warrior, took Benicadell
The people of Cullera and Játiva were deeply concerned,
But in Valencia gloom was everywhere.
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And so, for the next three years,
My Cid raided and robbed the Moors,
Sleeping by day, marching at night.
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Valencia had learned its lesson:
People stayed inside the walls, no one confronted my Cid,
Who chopped down their fields and made their lives difficult,
For three long years taking away their food.
And how they grumbled, not knowing what else to do,
Unable to bring in food from anywhere—
Fathers not knowing what to say to sons, or sons to fathers,
Friends unable to comfort friends.
How hard it is, gentlemen, denied the food you need,
Watching your children, your wives, die of starvation!
Misery was their only future, they could not help
themselves—
And the King of Morocco, to whom they appealed,
Was so caught up in war with the Atlas mountain king
He could not help them, could not so much as advise them.
Learning of this, my Cid’s heart leaped,
And he rode all night, to the far northwest, and from there
Sent messengers all through Aragon, and Navarre,
And everywhere in Castile:
“Whoever wants to give up poverty and become rich,
viniesse a Mio Cid que á sabor de cavalgar,
cercar quiere a Valencia por a cristianos la dar:
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“Quien quiere ir comigo cercar a Valencia,
todos venga
n de grado, ninguno non ha premia;
tres días le speraré en Canal de Celfa.”
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Esto dixo Mio Cid, el que en buen ora nasco.
Tornavas’ a Murviedro ca él ganada se la á.
Andidieron los pregones, sabet, a todas partes,
al sabor de la ganancia non lo quiere[n] detardar,
grandes yentes se le acojen de la buena cristiandad.
Creciendo va en rriqueza Mio Cid el de Bivar,
quando vio Mio Cid las gentes juntadas,
conpeçós’ de pagar.
Mio Cid don Rrodrigo non lo quiso detardar,
adeliñó pora Valencia e sobr’ellas’ va echar,
bien la cerca Mio Cid que non í avía art,
viédales exir e viédales entrar.
Sonando va[n] sus nuevas todas a todas partes,
más le vienen a Mio Cid, sabet, que nos’ le van.
Metióla en plazo, si les viniessen uviar;
nueve meses complidos, sabet, sobr’ella yaz[e],
quando vino el dezeno oviérongela a dar.
Grandes son los gozos que van por és logar
quando Mio Cid gañó a Valencia e entró en la cibdad.
Los que fueron de pie cavalleros se fazen;
el oro e la plata ¿quién vos lo podrié contar?
Todos eran rricos, quantos que allí ha.
Mio Cid don Rrodrigo la quinta mandó tomar,
en el aver monedado treínta mill marcos le caen,
e los otros averes ¿quién los podrié contar?
Come join my Cid, who’s planning a siege
Of Valencia, to make it Christian once more!
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“Come, whoever would like to join me.
Come, if you want to; I pressure no one.
I’ll wait three days for you, down south at Celfa.”
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My Cid sent out these words, he who was born at the right time,
And then rode back to Murviedro, which was already his.
His messengers, let me tell you, went everywhere,
And anyone who could smell good prizes came running,
A great assembly of decent Christians.
My Cid from Vivar could see himself growing richer,
Observing these crowds of new men. How pleased he was!
Nor did he wait any longer, my Cid, Ruy Díaz:
He set out at once, and began the siege,
Made it so tight, no one could escape,
No one could enter, no one could leave.
News of this siege went everywhere,
And more men came, by God, than ever left him!
The city hoped for relief; he gave them a limit on waiting,
Then gave them the full nine months, believe me, perched at its
gates.
When the tenth month came, they had no choice but surrender.
Valencia was shaken with their rejoicing
When my Cid and his men entered the city.
Now those who fought on foot had horses of their own,
And gold, and silver beyond description.
All his men were suddenly rich.
My Cid, Ruy Díaz, had his share of one-fifth,
Including thirty thousand marks in money—
But who could count the rest?
Alegre era el Campeador con todos los que ha
quando su seña cabdal sedié en somo del alcáçar.
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Ya folgava Mio Cid con todas sus conpañas.
[A] aquel rrey de Sevilla el mandado llegava
que presa es Valencia, que non ge la enparan;
vino los ver con treínta mill de armas.
Aprés de la huerta ovieron la batalla,
arrancólos Mio Cid, el de la luenga barba.
Fata dentro en Xátiva duró el arrancada,
en el passar de Xúcar í veriedes barata,
moros en arruenço amidos bever agua.
Aquel rrey de Marruecos con tres colpes escapa.
Tornado es Mio Cid con toda esta ganancia;
buena fue la de Valencia quando ganaron la casa,
más mucho fue provechosa, sabet, esta arrancada,
a todos los menores cayeron ciento marcos de plata.
Las nuevas del cavallero ya vedes dó llegavan.
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Grand alegría es entre todos essos cristianos
con Mio Cid Rruy Díaz, el que en buen ora nasco.
Yal’ crece la barba e vále allongando,
dixo Mio Cid de la su boca atanto:
“Por amor del rrey Alfonso que de tierra me á echado,”
nin entrarié en ella tigera, ni un pelo non avrié tajado
e que fablassen d’esto moros e cristianos.
Mio Cid don Rrodrigo en Valencia está folgando,
con él Minaya Álbar Fáñez que nos’ le parte de so braço.
Los que exieron de tierra de rritad son abondados,
a todos les dio en Valencia casas, e heredades | de que son
pagados.
El amor de Mio Cid ya lo ivan provando,
The Warrior, and every one of his men, cheered
When, at the soaring top of the fortress, his banner appeared.
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My Cid and his men took time to rest.
But when the King of Morocco and lord of Seville was informed
Valencia had fallen, for lack of support,
He came to see for himself, with thirty thousand men.
My Cid, he of the long and flowing beard,
Came to meet him just beyond the orchards.
The king’s defeated army fled, pursued as far as Játiva—
And what a desperate, floundering fight
The Moors then fought, against the fast-flowing Júcar!
They drank a lot more water than they wanted.
Three times wounded, the king escaped,
And my Cid took back more loot than when he’d taken Valencia,
So much, believe me, that every common soldier
Received a hundred silver marks.
It isn’t hard to see how high his reputation rose.
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All the Christians who’d come with my Cid, Ruy Díaz,
He who was born at just the right time, were delighted.
His beard kept growing, and he meant
To let it grow as long as it liked:
“Because of my love for King Alfonso, who sent me into exile,
No scissors will touch it, not a single hair will be cut.
And let this be told to Moors and Christians alike.”
My Cid, Ruy Díaz, rested in Valencia,
Along with Minaya Alvar Fáñez, never more than an arm’s
length away.
Those who had left their homes were now tremendously rich,
They’d been given homes in Valencia, they had lucrative estates:
My Cid had proved his goodwill, and they were pleased,
los que fueron con él e los de después todos son pagados;
véelo Mio Cid que con los averes que avién tomados
que sis’ pudiessen ir fer lo ien de grado.
Esto mandó Mio Cid, Minaya lo ovo consejado,
que ningún omne de los sos ques’ le non spidiés, o nol’ besás la
ma[no],
sil’ pudiessen prender o fuesse alcançado,
tomássenle el aver e pusiéssenle en un palo.
Afevos todo aquesto puesto en buen rrecabdo,
con Minaya Álbar Fáñez él se va consejar:
“Si vós quisiéredes, Minaya, quiero saber rrecabdo
de los que son aquí e comigo ganaron algo;
meter los he en escripto e todos sean contados,
que si algunos’ furtare o menos le fallaren,
el aver me avrá a tornar | [a] aquestos mios vassallos
que curian a Valencia e andan arrobdando.”
Allí dixo Minaya: “Consejo es aguisado.”
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Mandólos ve
nir a la cort e a todos los juntar,
quando los falló, por cuenta fízolos nonbrar;
tres mill e seiscientos avié Mio Cid el de Bivar,
alégras’le el coraçón e tornós’ a sonrrisar:
“¡Grado a Dios, Minaya, e a Sancta María madre!
Con más pocos ixiemos de la casa de Bivar;
agora avemos rriquiza, más avremos adelant.
Si a vós ploguiere, Minaya, e non vos caya en pesar,
enbiarvos quiero a Castiella, dó avemos heredades,
al rrey Alfonso mio señor natural;
d’estas mis ganancias que avemos fechas acá
darle quiero ciento cavallos e vós ídgelos levar.
Desí por mí besalde la mano e fırme ge lo rrogad
por mi mugier e mis fıjas, . . . . . . .
si fuere su merced, | quen’ las dexe sacar;
enbiaré por ellas e vós sabed el mensage:
‘la mugier de Mio Cid e sus fıjas las infantes
Both those who’d come first, and those who’d come later.
My Cid could tell that some who were suddenly rich
Might slip away, if they were able.
On Minaya’s advice, he ordered no one to leave
Without a farewell kiss of their leader’s hand,
For he would come after them, and when he caught them
He would take back their wealth, and hang them.
Once this was properly made known,
He spoke to Minaya again:
“Minaya, I’d like you to keep a written record
Of those who came to us and earned a reward—
Set down how many came, and their names,
So if a man leaves us, or something is missing,
He’ll give it back to me, and it will be given
To those who stay, guarding the city and patrolling