The Song of the Cid
Page 9
They foddered their horses, as darkness fell;
And my Cid gave them some final words:
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“Minaya, you’re headed for sweet Castile.
And now you can tell our friends:
‘By the grace of God we’ve conquered.’
When you return, perhaps we’ll be here—
Perhaps not. Then find out where we’ve gone and join us.
Remaining in this barren land is neither joyful
Nor safe: we need to protect ourselves with lances and swords.”
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Ya es aguisado, mañanas’ fue Minaya
e el Campeador [fıncó] con su mesnada.
La tierra es angosta e sobejana de mala,
todos los días a Mio Cid aguardavan
moros de las fronteras e unas yentes estrañas;
sanó el rrey Fáriz, con él se consejavan.
Entre los de Teca e los de Terrer la casa
e los de Calatayut, que es más ondrada,
assí lo an asmado e metudo en carta,
vendido les á Alcocer por tres mill marcos de plata.
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Mio Cid Rruy Díaz Alcocer á ven[d]ido,
¡qué bien pagó a sus vassallos mismos!
A cavalleros e a peones fechos los ha rricos,
en todos los sos non fallariedes un mesquino;
qui a buen señor sirve siempre bive en delicio.
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Quando Mio Cid el castiello quiso quitar,
moros e moras tomáronse a quexar:
“¡Vaste, Mio Cid! ¡Nuestras oraciones váyante delante!
Nós pagados fıncamos, señor, de la tu part.”
Quando quitó a Alcocer Mio Cid el de Bivar,
moros e moras compeçaron de llorar.
Alçó su seña, el Campeador se va,
passó Salón ayuso, aguijó cabadelant,
al exir de Salón mucho ovo buenas aves.
Plogo a los de Terrer e a los de Calatayut más;
pesó a los de Alcocer ca pro les fazié grant.
Aguijó Mio Cid, ivas’ cabadelant,
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No more needed saying. At dawn the next day,
Minaya departed; the Warrior and his men remained
In that arid place, extremely barren.
Moors from nearby lands and from other places
Were always on watch, day and night.
King Fáriz was healthy again, and they met with him.
But the people of Ateca, and those of Terrer,
Together with Calatayud, a town much larger,
Agreed with my Cid, and put in writing,
That they would buy Alcocer for three thousand silver marks.
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And so my Cid sold them Alcocer—
And how happy this made all his men!
Knights and soldiers on foot, now all alike were rich:
You couldn’t have found a poor man among them,
For those who serve a good master always live well.
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The Moors who lived in Alcocer
Lamented his departure:
“My Cid, you’re leaving us! Our prayers will always precede you!
We’re deeply satisfied, our lord, with all you’ve done.”
And when he left Alcocer, my Cid from Vivar,
Both men and women began to weep.
He raised his banner, and then he was gone,
Riding beside the Jalón, his horses galloping:
Turning away from the river, he saw many signs predicting good
fortune.
Terrer was happy he was leaving; Calatayud was even happier;
But not Alcocer, which he had treated so well.
í fıncó en un poyo que es sobre Mont Rreal;
alto es el poyo, maravilloso e grant;
non teme guerra, sabet, a nulla part.
Metió en paria a Doroca enantes,
desí a Molina, que es del otra part,
la tercera Teruel, que estava delant,
en su mano tenié a Celfa la de Canal.
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¡Mio Cid Rruy Díaz de Dios aya su gracia!
Ido es a Castiella Álbar Fáñez Minaya,
treínta cavallos al rrey los enpresentava.
Violos el rrey, fermoso sonrrisava:
“¿Quín’ los dio éstos, sí vos vala Dios, Minaya?”
“Mio Cid Rruy Díaz, que en buen ora cinxo espada.
Venció dos rreyes de moros en aquesta batalla;
sobejana es, señor, la su gana[n]cia.
A vós, rrey ondrado, enbía esta presentaja;
bésavos los pies e las manos amas
quel’ ay[a]des merced, sí el Criador vos vala.”
Dixo el rrey: “Mucho es mañana
omne airado que de señor non ha gracia
por acogello a cabo de tres semanas.
Mas después que de moros fue, prendo esta presentaja;
aún me plaze de Mio Cid que fızo tal ganancia.
Sobr’esto todo a vós quito, Minaya,
honores e tierras avellas condonadas,
id e venit, d’aquí vos do mi gracia;
mas del Cid Campeador yo non vos digo nada.
Sobre aquesto todo dezirvos quiero, Minaya,
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“de todo mio rreino los que lo quisieren far,
buenos e valientes pora Mio Cid huyar,
My Cid went galloping on, riding quickly
Until he reached a hill above Monreal—
A high hill, broad and beautiful,
Which could not be attacked, believe me, from any direction.
The first town to pay him tribute was Daroca,
And then Molina, on the other side of the hill,
And then Teruel, farther along.
He already held Celfa de Canal.
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God grant his grace to my Cid, Ruy Díaz!
Alvar Fáñez Minaya arrived in Castile,
And presented thirty fine horses to the king:
He smiled with pleasure, seeing them.
“May God save you, Minaya, but who’s given me such a gift?”
“My Cid, Ruy Díaz, knighted at just the right time.
He defeated two Moorish kings in battle,
Winning immense riches.
He sends you these horses, as his honored ruler,
And kisses your hands and your feet,
Asking for your forgiveness, in the name of our Lord.”
The king said: “That cannot yet be done:
A man who’s been exiled and disgraced
Cannot be pardoned three weeks later.
Still, the gift was won from the Moors, so I’ll take it.
I am pleased that my Cid has done
So well. You stand here pardoned,
Minaya: your lands and honors are yours again.
Come and go as you please.
Yet as for the Cid, that Warrior, I’ve not decided.
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“But still, Minaya, let me also say
That any strong, brave men who wish to prey
suéltoles los cuerpos e quítoles las heredades.”
Besóle las manos Minaya Álbar Fáñez:
“Grado e gracias, rrey, como a señor natural,
esto feches agora, ál feredes adelant.”
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“Id por Castiella e déxenvos andar, Minaya,
si[n] nulla dubda id a Mio Cid buscar ganancia.”
Quiero vos dezir del que en buen ora nasco e cinxo espada.
Aquel poyo, en él priso posada,
mientra que sea el pueblo de moros e la yente cristiana
El Poyo de Mio Cid assil’ dirán por carta.
Estando allí, mucha tierra preava,
el río de Martín todo lo metió en paria.
A Saragoça sus nuevas llegavan,
non plaze a los moros, fırmemientre les pesava,
allí sovo Mio Cid conplidas quinze semanas.
Quando vio el
caboso que se tardava Minaya,
con todas sus yentes fızo una trasnochada;
dexó El Poyo, todo lo desenparava,
allén de Teruel don Rrodrigo passava,
en el pinar de Tévar don Rroy Díaz posava,
todas essas tierras todas las preava,
a Saragoça metuda la [á] en paria.
Quando esto fecho ovo, a cabo de tres semanas
de Castiella venido es Minaya,
dozientos con él, que todos ciñen espadas,
non son en cuenta, sabet, las peonadas.
Quando vio Mio Cid asomar a Minaya,
el cavallo corriendo, valo abraçar sin falla,
besóle la boca e los ojos de la cara.
Todo ge lo dize, que nol’ encubre nada,
el Campeador fermoso sonrrisava:
On the Moors with my Cid may go;
Neither their persons or property will suffer.”
Kissing the king’s hands, Minaya told him:
“I thank you most gladly, my king and lord,
For you’ll do this now, and soon will do more.”
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“Cross Castile, Minaya, just as you please;
Rejoin my Cid and seek more treasure.”
Now I will speak of him, born and knighted at fortunate
Times: the hill he’d chosen for his camp
Will be called, by Christians and by Moors,
My Cid’s Hill, for forever more.
From that base he conducted many raids;
Towns along the river Martín paid him.
Unwelcome news of this arrived in Saragossa,
Where the Moors were absolutely outraged.
My Cid stayed there a hundred days,
But seeing that Minaya had been delayed,
In the darkness of night he and his men went away,
Leaving the hill completely undefended.
They rode beyond Teruel and camped,
At last, in the pine woods of Tévar.
And there, too, he demanded tribute;
Even Saragossa made a contribution.
He raided for three full weeks
Before Minaya returned from Castile,
Followed by two hundred armed men
And more on foot, let me tell you, than could be counted.
My Cid came galloping toward them,
Then threw his arms around Minaya,
Kissing his mouth and also his eyes.
Minaya told him who had said what to whom, in great detail,
Omitting nothing. And the Warrior smiled.
“¡Grado a Dios e a las sus vertudes sanctas,
mientra vós visquiéredes, bien me irá a mí, Minaya!”
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¡Dios, cómo fue alegre todo aquel fonsado
que Minaya Álbar Fáñez assí era llegado,
diziéndoles saludes de primos e de ermanos
e de sus compañas, aquellas que avién dexadas!
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¡Dios, cómo es alegre la barba vellida
que Álbar Fáñez pagó las mill missas
e quel’ dixo saludes de su mugier e de sus fıjas!
¡Dios, cómo fue el Cid pagado e fızo grand alegría!
“¡Ya Álbar Fáñez, bivades muchos días!”
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Non lo tardó el que en buen ora nasco,
tierras d’Alcañ[i]z negras las va parando
e aderredor todo lo va preando;
al tercer día dón ixo, í es tornado.
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Ya va el mandado por las tierras todas,
pesando va a los de Monçón e a los de Huesca;
porque dan parias plaze a los de Saragoça,
de Mio Cid Rruy Díaz que non temién ninguna fonta.
“I thank God and all his saints on high!
My life will go well, Minaya, as long as you’re alive!”
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O Lord, how everyone was smiling,
Seeing once again their comrade Minaya!
He carried messages from brothers and friends
And cousins they’d left behind them.
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O Lord, how the bearded Warrior went on smiling,
Happy his thousand masses were paid for,
Delighted to hear from his daughters and his wife!
Dear God! How pleased he was, how he rejoiced!
“I wish you, Alvar Fáñez, a long long life!”
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He could not wait, he who was born at a fortunate hour,
Riding out with his men to Alcañiz, and all around it,
Everywhere they went, they were paid;
They did not return for three entire days.
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News of this new raid
Reached Monzón and Huesca, and deeply dismayed them.
But the people of Saragossa were not afraid,
For they’d paid tribute, and my Cid, Ruy Díaz, would never
betray them.
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Con estas ganancias a la posada tornándose van,
todos son alegres, ganancias traen grandes,
plogo a Mio Cid e mucho a Álbar Fáñez.
Sonrrisós’ el caboso, que non lo pudo endurar:
“Ya cavalleros, dezir vos he la verdad:
qui en un logar mora siempre, lo so puede menguar;
cras a la mañana pensemos de cavalgar,
dexat estas posadas e iremos adelant.”
Estonces se mudó el Cid al puerto de Aluca[n]t,
dent corre Mio Cid a Huesa e a Mont Alván;
en aquessa corrida diez días ovieron a morar.
Fueron los mandados a todas partes
que el salido de Castiella assí los trae tan mal.
Los mandados son idos a todas partes.
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Llegaron las nuevas al conde de Barcilona
que Mio Cid Rruy Díaz quel’ corrié la tierra toda;
ovo grand pesar e tóvos’lo a grant fonta.
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El conde es muy follón e dixo una vanidat:
“Grandes tuertos me tiene Mio Cid el de Bivar.
Dentro en mi cort tuerto me tovo grand,
fırióm’ el sobrino e non’ lo enmendó más;
agora córrem’ las tierras que en mi enpara están.
Non lo desafıé, nil’ torné enemistad,
mas quando él me lo busca, ir ge lo he yo demandar.”
Grandes son los poderes e apriessa llegando se van,
entre moros e cristianos gentes se le allegan grandes,
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They made their return, smiling
From ear to ear, all happy with what they’d gotten;
My Cid was delighted; so too was Alvar Fáñez.
My Cid could not restrain his pleasure.
“And yet,” he told his men, “I warn you: leisure
Is not for us. We’re lost if we stay in one place.
Tomorrow morning we must leave this camp
And keep on riding, first here, then there.”
He took them through Gallocanta Pass,
Which took them ten long days to cross,
Then on to Huesa and Montalbán, raiding
For ten more treasure-laden days.
The news of these devastating
Forays spread far and wide:
Castile’s great exile had become a serious danger.
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News that my Cid, Ruy Díaz, was ravaging far and wide
Came to the Count of Barcelona,
Who was deeply upset at such an attack on his pride.
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The count was boastful, stuffed with conceit, and reckless:
“This Cid from Vivar is causing me trouble, he thinks I’m
helpless.
Right here in my court he wounded one of my nephews,
And never apologized.
Now he’s raiding lands lying in my protection.
I’ve never challenged him, or picked a quarrel—
But when he comes looking f
or me, I’ll make him pay.”
He quickly assembled a massive army,
adeliñan tras Mio Cid el bueno de Bivar;
tres días e dos noches pensaron de andar,
alcançaron a Mio Cid en Tévar e el pinar;
assí viene esforçado el conde que a manos se le cuidó tomar.
Mio Cid don Rrodrigo ganancia trae grand,
dice de una sierra e llegava a un val.
Del conde don Rremont venídol’ es mensaje,
Mio Cid, quando lo oyó, enbió pora allá:
“Digades al conde non lo tenga a mal,
de lo so non lievo nada, déxem’ ir en paz.”
Rrespuso el conde: “¡Esto non será verdad!
Lo de antes e de agora tódom’ lo pechará;
¡sabrá el salido a quién vino desondrar!”
Tornós’ el mandadero quanto pudo más;
essora lo connosce Mio Cid el de Bivar
que a menos de batalla nos’ pueden dén quitar.
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“Ya cavalleros, apart fazed la ganancia,
apriessa vos guarnid e metedos en las armas;
el conde don Rremont dar nos ha grant batalla,
de moros e de cristianos gentes trae sobejanas,
a menos de batalla non nos dexarié por nada.
Pues adelant irán tras nós, aquí sea la batalla;
apretad los cavallos e bistades las armas.