The Song of the Cid Page 8
Tell me what you wish, my worthy knights.”
Brave Minaya was the first to speak:
“We’ve left sweet Castile behind us.
If we don’t fight the Moors, they surely won’t feed us.
We are six hundred strong, and maybe more:
In the name of God, our only choice is war.
Let’s go out and fight them tomorrow.”
The Warrior replied: “I like what you’ve said.
Minaya, this honors you, and it’s what I expected.”
Moorish men and women were ordered out of the city;
Their plans required secrecy,
And day and night they worked to make themselves ready.
The next day, before the morning light, just at dawn,
My Cid and his men were fully armed.
He addressed his men, and here are his words:
“We’ll all go out, except for two foot soldiers, to guard
The gate. If we die in battle, they’ll have it all.
But if we win, we’ll earn ourselves far more.
And you, Pedro Bermúdez, will carry my banner to war—
A loyal follower, who deserves such honor.
But don’t rush ahead, wait for my order.”
He kissed my Cid’s hand, and lifted the banner.
They opened the gates and charged straight out.
Abrieron las puertas, fuera un salto dan,
viéronlo las arrobdas de los moros, al almofalla se van tornar.
¡Qué priessa va en los moros! e tornáronse a armar,
ante rroído de atamores la tierra querié quebrar;
veriedes armarse moros, apriessa entrar en az.
De parte de los moros dos señas ha cabdales,
e fızieron dos azes de peones mezclados, ¿quí los podrié contar?
La[s] azes de los moros yas’ mueven adelant
por a Mio Cid e a los sos a manos los tomar.
“Quedas sed, me[s]nadas, aquí en este logar,
non derranche ninguno fata que yo lo mande.”
Aquel Pero Vermúez non lo pudo endurar,
la seña tiene en mano, conpeçó de espolonar:
“¡El Criador vos vala, Cid, Campeador leal!
Vo meter la vuestra seña en aquella mayor az;
los que el debdo avedes veremos cómo la acorredes.”
Dixo el Campeador: “¡Non sea, por caridad!”
Rrespuso Pero Vermúez: “¡Non rrastará por ál!”
Espolonó el cavallo e metiól’ en el mayor az.
Moros le rreciben por la seña ganar,
danle grandes colpes mas nol’ pueden falsar.
Dixo el Campeador: “¡Valelde, por caridad!”
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Enbraçan los escudos delant los coraçones,
abaxan las lanças abueltas de los pendones,
enclinaron las caras de suso de los arzones,
ívanlos ferir de fuertes coraçones.
A grandes vozes llama el que en buen ora nasco:
“¡Feridlos, cavalleros, por amor de caridad!
¡Yo só Rruy Díaz de Bivar, el Cid Campeador!”
Todos fıeren en el az dó está Pero Vermúez,
trezientas lanças son, todas tienen pendones;
seños moros mataron, todos de seños colpes;
a la tornada que fazen otros tantos [muertos] son.
The Moors’ patrol bands saw them, and quickly retreated.
How the Moors began to scurry, to get themselves armed!
Their drums were beating hard enough to split the world.
You could see their soldiers rushing into battle lines.
Having two kings, the Moors carried two banners,
They formed as if two armies—and who could count them all?
And then they began to move forward,
Ready to meet my Cid and his men, sword against sword.
“Let them come to us,” said the Warrior. “Stay where you are.
No one take a single step until I order it.”
They obeyed. But Pedro Bermúdez could not wait;
Lifting the banner high, he spurred his horse:
“God shield you, O Cid, loyal Warrior!
I’ll set your banner in the thickest line of Moors,
And then we’ll see how these men of ours fight for it!”
“No!” cried my Cid. “Don’t! In the name of honor, stop!”
Pedro Bermúdez replied, “I can’t stay here—”
And galloped his horse straight at the Moors.
They welcomed him, trying to take the banner,
Their weapons hitting him hard, but unable to break his armor.
“Help him!” called my Cid. “In the name of honor!”
35
They raised their shields in front of their breasts,
Lowered their lances, all covered with flags,
Bent their faces down toward their saddle horns,
And attacked, their hearts as bold as their swords.
And he who’d been born at just the right time shouted,
“At them, knights! In the name of honor!
I am Ruy Díaz, the Cid, the Warrior!”
They smashed into the Moors’ front line, alongside Pedro
Bermúdez,
Three hundred lances, the flags all fluttering,
And every blow brought death for a Moor.
They turned and charged once more, and more Moors died.
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Veriedes tantas lanças premer e alçar,
tanta adágara foradar e passar,
tanta loriga falsa[r] [e] desmanchar,
tantos pendones blancos salir vermejos en sangre,
tantos buenos cavallos sin sos dueños andar.
Los moros llaman Mafómat e los cristianos Sancti Yagü[e];
cayén en un poco de logar moros muertos mill e [trezientos ya].
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¡Quál lidia bien sobre exorado arzón
Mio Cid Rruy Díaz, el buen lidiador!
Minaya Álbar Fáñez, que Çorita mandó,
Martín Antolínez, el burgalés de pro,
Muño Gustioz, que fue so criado,
Martín Muñoz, el que mandó a Mont Mayor,
Álbar Álbarez e Álbar Salvadórez,
Galín García, el bueno de Aragón,
Félez Muñoz, so sobrino del Campeador.
Desí adelante, quantos que í son
acorren la seña e a Mio Cid el Canpeador.
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A Minaya Álbar Fáñez matáronle el cavallo,
bien lo acorren mesnadas de cristianos.
La lança á quebrada, al espada metió mano,
maguer de pie buenos colpes va dando.
Violo Mio Cid Rruy Díaz el castellano,
acostós’ a un aguazil que tenié buen cavallo,
diol’ tal espadada con el so diestro braço
cortól’ por la cintura, el medio echó en campo.
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It was a sea of lances rising and falling,
Shields pierced through and broken open,
Body armor smashed,
Blood spattered all over white flags,
And many, many horses who had no rider.
The Moors cried, “Mohammad!” The Christians, “Saint James!”
In a moment, thirteen hundred Moors lay dead on the field.
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How well he fought, bent over his gilded saddle horn,
My Cid, Ruy Díaz, that great Warrior!
And there was Minaya Alvar Fáñez, Zurita’s lord,
And Martín Antolínez, that fine man from Burgos,
And Muño Gustioz, Cid’s brother-in-law,
And Martín Muñoz, who ruled in Montemayor,
And Alvar Alvarez, Alvar Salvadórez,
Galín García, that good man from Aragon,
And Félix Muñoz, my Cid’s nephew.
Everyone who was there, from that moment on,
Rushed toward the banner, and fought for my
Cid, their great
Warrior.
38
The Moors succeeded in killing Minaya’s horse,
And at once Christians came rushing to help him.
His lance had been broken, but he drew his sword
And, staying on his feet, fought furiously on.
My Cid, Ruy Díaz, seeing his problem,
Headed for one of the Moors, who rode a first-rate horse,
And gave him such a savage blow with his sword
A Minaya Álbar Fáñez íval’ dar el cavallo:
“¡Cavalgad, Minaya, vós sodes el mio diestro braço!
Oy en este día de vós abré grand bando;
fırme[s] son los moros, aún nos’ van del campo.”
Cavalgó Minaya, el espada en la mano,
por estas fuerças fuertemientre lidiando,
a los que alcança valos delibrando.
Mio Cid Rruy Díaz, el que en buen ora nasco,
al rrey Fáriz tres colpes le avié dado,
los dos le fallen e el únol’ ha tomado;
por la loriga ayuso la sangre destella[n]do
bolvió la rrienda por írsele del campo.
Por aquel colpe rrancado es el fonsado.
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Martín Antolínez un colpe dio a Galve,
las carbonclas del yelmo echógelas aparte,
cortól’ el yelmo que llegó a la carne;
sabet, el otro non gel’ osó esperar.
Arrancado es el rrey Fáriz e Galve.
¡Tan buen día por la cristiandad
ca fuyen los moros de la part!
Los de Mio Cid fıriendo en alcaz,
el rrey Fáriz en Terrer se fue entrar
e a Galve nol’ cogieron allá,
para Calatayut, quanto puede, se va;
el Campeador íval’ en alcaz,
fata Calatayut duró el segudar.
That he cut him in half, at the waist; what was left of him fell to
the ground.
Then he rode to Minaya, leading the horse:
“Ride him, Minaya, my good right hand!
I’ll be leaning on you for some heavy work today:
The Moors are fighting back, they still might beat us.”
Minaya galloped into action, swinging his sword,
Delivering heavy blows, driving through the Moorish horde;
Souls flew from the bodies of all who approached him.
My Cid, Ruy Díaz, born at a lucky hour,
Had swung at King Fáriz three times;
Twice he’d missed, but the third time he hit him,
And blood came gushing down the length of his mail shirt,
And the king swung his horse around, so he could run from the
battle.
That single blow broke his army’s resistance.
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Martín Antolínez struck at Galvé, the other king,
Smashing apart his helmet, at the neck,
Cutting through right into his flesh.
Believe me, he did not wait to be hit again.
King Fáriz and King Galvé were beaten, both had fled.
What a magnificent day for the Christians,
Seeing the Moors turn and run!
My Cid’s followers chased after them:
King Fáriz took shelter in Terrer,
But Galvé took a different direction,
Running as fast as he could, all the way to Calatayud.
And that was as far as the Warrior pursued him,
Not riding any farther than Calatayud.
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A Minaya Álbar Fáñez bien l’anda el cavallo,
d’aquestos moros mató treínta e quatro,
espada tajador, sangriento trae el braço,
por el cobdo ayuso la sangre destellando.
Dize Minaya: “Agora só pagado,
que a Castiella irán buenos mandados
que Mio Cid Rruy Díaz lid campal á vencida.”
Tantos moros yazen muertos que pocos bivos á dexados
ca en alcaz sin dubda les fueron dando.
Yas’ tornan los del que en buen ora nasco;
andava Mio Cid sobre so buen cavallo,
la cofıa fronzida, ¡Dios, cómo es bien barbado!
Almófar a cuestas, la espada en la mano,
vio los sos cómos’ van allegando:
“Grado a Dios, [a] Aquel que está en alto,
quando tal batalla avemos arrancado.”
Esta albergada los de Mio Cid luego la an rrobada
de escudos e de armas e de otros averes largos;
de los moriscos, quando son llegados,
fallaron quinientos e diez cavallos.
Grand alegreya va entre essos cristianos,
más de quinze de los sos menos non fallaron.
Traen oro e plata que non saben rrecabdo,
rrefechos son todos essos cristianos con aquesta ganancia.
A so castiello a los moros dentro los an tornados,
mandó Mio Cid aún que les diessen algo.
Grant á el gozo Mio Cid con todos sos vassallos,
dio a partir estos dineros e estos averes largos;
en la su quinta al Cid caen ciento cavallos.
¡Dios, qué bien pagó a todos sus vassallos,
a los peones e a los encavalgados!
Bien lo aguisa el que en buen ora nasco,
quantos él trae todos son pagados.
“¡Oíd, Minaya, sodes mio diestro braço!
D’aquesta rriqueza que el Criador nos á dado
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The horse ran well for Minaya Alvar Fáñez:
His sharp sword caught thirty-four
Of these fleeing Moors; he was bloody all over,
His arm stained from hand to elbow.
And seeing that, he said: “I’m satisfied, now,
Because all Castile will soon know
That my Cid, Ruy Díaz, fought a battle and won it.”
Many Moors lay dead, not many survived:
When they broke and ran, they were pursued and struck down.
Then he who was born at a lucky time swung around,
Riding high on his splendid horse,
His netted cap pushed back. That was a man with a beard,
By God! Chain-mail hood down on his shoulders,
Sword in hand, he watched his men returning:
“We thank our God, high in heaven,
That we have conquered, won in such a battle.”
Then his men went up and down the field, collecting loot—
Swords, shields, whatever was worth the taking.
The fallen Moors had left behind them
Five hundred and ten horses.
These Christians were overjoyed, finding
That, of their three hundred, no more than fifteen were lost.
They collected more gold and silver than anyone could count:
All these Christians were enriched by what they’d won.
My Cid ordered that even the Alcocer Moors,
Returning to the castle, ought to be given something.
My Cid and all his men were wonderfully pleased,
As he had them distribute gold and other prizes;
His own share included a full hundred horses.
Dear God, how happy his men were,
Every knight and every foot soldier!
He who was born at just the right time did it just right,
And all were satisfied.
“Listen, Minaya,” he said, “my good right arm,
Take whatever you like, this time,
a vuestra guisa prended con vuestra mano.
Enbiarvos quiero a Castiella con mandado
d’esta batalla que avemos arrancada,
al rrey Alfonso que me á airado
quiérol’ e[n]biar en don treínta cavallos,
todos con siellas e muy bien enfrenados,
señas espadas de los arzones colgadas.”
Dixo Minaya Álbar Fáñez: “Esto faré yo
de grado.”
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“Evades aquí oro e plata,
una huesa llena, | que nada nol’ mingua;
en Sancta María de Burgos quitedes mill missas,
lo que rromaneciere daldo a mi mugier e a mis fıjas
que rrueguen por mí las noches e los días;
si les yo visquier, serán dueñas rricas.”
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Minaya Álbar Fáñez d’esto es pagado;
por ir con él omnes son [contados],
agora davan cevada, ya la noch era entrada,
Mio Cid Rruy Díaz con los sos se acordava.
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“¡Ídesvos, Minaya, a Castiella la gentil!
A nuestros amigos bien les podedes dezir:
‘Dios nos valió e venciemos la lid.’
A la tornada, si nos falláredes aquí;
si non, dó sopiéredes que somos, indos conseguir.
Por la[n]ças e por espadas avemos de guarir,
si non, en esta tierra angosta non podriemos [bivir].”
Of these riches given us by God!
I want to send you to Castile, with word
Of this battle we have won,
And thirty horses—with saddles, bridles,
Everything, and a sword hanging from each saddlebow.
This will be a gift to King Alfonso,
My great lord, who sent me into exile.”
“With pleasure,” Minaya Alvar Fáñez said, in reply.
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“Take this riding boot,” said my Cid, “filled to the brim,
All of it gold and silver,
To pay for a thousand masses at Santa María, in Burgos.
Give my wife and daughters whatever’s left over:
Ask them to pray for me, both day and night.
They’ll be rich ladies, if I’m still alive.”
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Minaya Alvar Fáñez swore to comply
With every request; knights to ride with him were chosen;