The Song of the Cid
Page 27
Six fighters were on the field, and the king declared:
“Listen to me, you Carrións!
You could have fought in Toledo; you refused.
These three of Warrior Cid’s good men
Are under my personal care.
Behave yourselves, do nothing unfair,
For I will be harsh on anyone playing tricks:
He’ll never be seen in Castile again.”
The Carrións were clearly unhappy at these words.
The king and his judges rode around the field,
Displaying the boundaries; then the field was cleared.
All six fighters were told, and very plainly,
That to cross the boundaries meant defeat.
No one watching could approach a boundary
Closer than the length of six lances.
They drew lots for positions; no one got the sun in his eyes.
The judges stood beside the field, at its center; it was time
to fight.
As my Cid’s good men attacked
The Carrións, too, advanced,
Each aiming straight at his man.
They pulled their shields over their chests,
Lowered lances hung with banners,
Bent their heads toward the saddlebows,
And spurred their horses forward.
The earth seemed to tremble with the sound of the charge.
Each aiming straight at his man,
Three on three they fought:
The watchers thought they’d all fall dead at once!
Pedro Bermúdez, who’d made the first challenge,
con Ferrá[n] Gonçález de cara se juntó,
firiénse en los escudos sin todo pavor.
Ferrán Go[n]çález a Pero Vermúez el escúdol’ passó,
prísol’ en vazío, en carne nol’ tomó,
bien en dos logares el astil le quebró.
Firme estido Pero Vermúez, por esso nos’ encamó,
un colpe rrecibiera mas otro firió:
quebrantó la b[l]oca del escudo, apart ge la echó,
passógelo todo, que nada nol’ valió,
metiól’ la lança por los pechos, que nada nol’ valió.
Tres dobles de loriga tenié Fernando, aquéstol’ prestó,
las dos le desmanchan e la tercera fincó:
el belmez con la camisa e con la guarnizón
de dentro en la carne una mano ge la metió,
por la boca afuera la sángrel’ salió,
quebráronle las cinchas, ninguna nol’ ovo pro,
por la copla del cavallo en tierra lo echó.
Assí lo tenién las yentes que mal ferido es de muert.
Él dexó la lança e al espada mano metió,
quando lo vio Ferrán Go[n]çález conuvo a Tizón,
antes que el colpe esperasse dixo: “Vençudo só.”
Atorgárongelo los fieles, Pero Vermúez le dexó.
151
Martín Antolínez e Diego Gonçález firiéronse de las lanças,
tales fueron los colpes que les quebraron amas.
Martín Antolínez mano metió al espada,
rrelumbra tod’ el campo, tanto es linpia e clara;
diol’ un colpe, de traviéssol’ tomava,
el casco de somo apart ge lo echava,
las moncluras del yelmo todas ge las cortava,
allá levó el almófar, fata la cofia llegava,
la cofia e el almófar todo ge lo levava,
rráxol’ los pelos de la cabeça, bien a la carne llegava,
lo uno cayó en el campo e lo ál suso fincava.
Was face to face with Fernando González,
Each bravely striking the other’s shield.
Fernando’s blow went through Pedro’s,
But ended in empty air, not touching flesh,
And his lance was snapped in two.
Pedro Bermúdez sat straight in his saddle, unshaken;
He’d taken one blow, yet gave back another,
Smashing through the shield, which broke apart, useless,
As the lance drove through, almost
Reaching the heart, but the third of Fernando’s mail shirts
—His last line of defense—
Saved him, as the first and second were pierced.
But the blow drove fragments of metal
A full hand deep in the flesh,
So that blood gushed from his mouth,
And the horse’s belts and straps were broken, nothing held,
And Fernando fell backward, straight to the ground.
Everyone thought he was fatally wounded.
Pedro dropped his lance and drew his sword,
But Fernando recognized Tizón
And called, before the blow fell, “I am beaten!”
The judges agreed, and Pedro left him where he was.
151
Martín Antolínez and Diego González each struck so hard
That both their lances shattered.
Martín Antolínez drew his sword,
Shining so clear and bright it lit the whole field.
He struck a sidewise blow
That smashed the top of Diego’s helmet,
Slicing through the metal and all the straps,
Reaching the woolen lining, cutting it away,
Scraping off much hair and not a little flesh.
When precious Colada struck this blow,
Diego saw he could not escape
Quando este colpe á ferido Colada la preciada,
vio Diego Gonçález que no escaparié con el alma,
bolvió la rrienda al cavallo por tornasse de cara.
Essora Martín Antolínez rrecibiól’ con el espada,
un cólpel’ dio de llano, con lo agudo nol’ tomava.
Diago [Go]nçález espada tiene en mano, mas no la | ensayava,
essora el ifante tan grandes vozes dava:
“¡Valme, Dios, glorioso señor, e cúriam’ d’este espada!”
El cavallo asorrienda e mesurándol’ del espada
sacól’ del mojón; Martín Antolínez en el campo fincava.
Essora dixo el rrey: “Venid vós a mi compaña,
por quanto avedes fecho vencida avedes esta batalla.”
Otórgangelo los fieles que dize verdadera palabra.
152
Los dos han arrancado, dirévos de Muño Gustioz,
con Assur Gonçález cómo se adobó.
Firiénse en los escudos unos tan grandes colpes;
Assur Gonçález, furçudo e de valor,
firió en el escudo a don Muño Gustioz,
tras el escudo falsóge la guarnizón,
en vazío fue la lança ca en carne nol’ tomó.
Este colpe fecho, otro dio Muño Gustioz,
tras el escudo falsóge la guarnizón:
por medio de la bloca el escúdol’ quebrantó,
nol’ pudo guarir, falsóge la guarnizón;
apart le priso, que non cab’ el coraçón,
metiól’ por la carne adentro la lança con el pendón,
de la otra part una braça ge la echó;
con él dio una tuerta, de la siella lo encamó,
al tirar de la lança en tierra lo echó,
vermejo salió el astil e la lança e el pendón.
Todos se cuedan que ferido es de muert.
La lança rrecombró e sobr’él se paró,
dixo Gonçalo Assúrez: “¡Nol’ firgades, por Dios!”
With his life, and pulled his horse to the side,
Turning his head away, and Martín Antolínez reined in
His sword blow, hitting with the flat of the blade.
Diego’s sword was in his hand, but he did not use it,
Shouting as loud as he was able:
“God in heaven help me! Save me from this sword!”
He swung his horse around, his eyes on the blade,
And rushed off the field, leaving Martín Antolínez alone.
&n
bsp; To whom the king said: “Come here to me.
You’ve done enough; it’s over, you’ve won.”
The judges affirmed this decision.
152
Two had been beaten; I’ll tell you how Muño Gustioz
Did with Ansur González,
Beating each other’s shields with powerful blows.
Ansur González was brave and strong:
His lance pierced Muño’s shield and armor,
But ended in air, touched no flesh.
Muño hit back, straight through
Both shield and armor, a sideward blow
That could not be stopped, hitting flesh
But not the heart, lance point and hanging banners
Coming out in back, with bits
Of mail shirt and lining, the full length
Of an arm. Muño pulled hard on the reins,
Stayed firm in the saddle, and twisted
The lance, yanking it back. Ansur was pitched
To the ground, his saddle was drenched in blood.
Everyone watching was convinced
Ansur González would soon be dead.
Muño stood over him, lance in hand,
Vençudo es el campo quando esto se acabó,
dixieron los fieles: “Esto oímos nós.”
Mandó librar el canpo el buen rrey don Alfonso,
las armas que í rrastaron él se las tomó.
Por ondrados se parten los del buen Campeador,
vencieron esta lid, grado al Criador.
Grandes son los pesares por tierras de Carrión.
El rrey a los de Mio Cid de noche los enbió
que no les diessen salto nin oviessen pavor.
A guisa de menbrados andan días e noches,
felos en Valencia con Mio Cid el Campeador;
por malos los dexaron a los ifantes de Carrión,
conplido han el debdo que les mandó so señor,
alegre fue d’aquesto Mio Cid el Campeador.
Grant es la biltança de ifantes de Carrión:
qui buena dueña escarnece e la dexa después
atal le contesca o siquier peor.
Dexémosnos de pleitos de ifantes de Carrión,
de lo que an preso mucho an mal sabor;
fablémosnos d’aqueste que en buen ora nació.
Grandes son los gozos en Valencia la mayor
porque tan ondrados fueron los del Canpeador.
Prisos’ a la barba Rruy Díaz so señor:
“¡Grado al rrey del cielo, mis fijas vengadas son!
Agora las ayan quitas heredades de Carrión.
Sin vergüença las casaré o a qui pese o a qui non.”
Andidieron en pleitos los de Navarra e de Aragón,
ovieron su ajunta con Alfonso el de León,
fizieron sus casamientos con don Elvira e con doña Sol.
Los primeros fueron grandes, mas aquéstos son mijores,
a mayor ondra las casa que lo que primero fue.
¡Ved quál ondra crece al que en buen ora nació
quando señoras son sus fijas de Navarra e de Aragón!
Oy los rreyes d’España sos parientes son,
a todos alcança ondra por el que en buen ora nació.
Passado es d’este sieglo el día de cinquaesma;
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . ¡de Christus aya perdón!
¡Assí fagamos nós todos justos e pecadores!
And Suero González cried out: “Don’t hit him
Again! You’ve won, it’s over and done!”
The judges said: “The victory’s confirmed.”
Good King Alfonso ordered the field to be emptied;
He kept for himself whatever lay on the ground.
The Warrior’s men rode home with honor:
Thanks to the Lord, they had won their battles!
The Carrión people were deeply sorrowful.
King Alfonso had the victors leave at night,
So they could ride, not fearing men in hiding.
Sensible men, they traveled both night and day,
And reached Valencia safely.
They had shamed the Carrión heirs,
Paid their debt to Warrior Cid, as they’d sworn
To do. He was absolutely delighted.
The Carrións were left in disgrace:
Whoever beats a good woman, and then abandons her,
Should be in great trouble—or worse!
But that’s enough of the Carrións’ woes:
Let’s talk of a man born at a good hour.
Valencia, too, was delighted at the honors
Won by Warrior Cid’s men.
Ruy Díaz pulled at his beard:
“My daughters have been revenged: I thank the King of heaven!
They’re free of all Carrión links!
Nothing is wrong, now, with giving them in marriage.”
The kings of Navarre and Aragon had face-to-face
Talks with Alfonso of León, arranging
It all. The girls’ first marriages had been grand,
But there was far more honor in these.
Just see what had come to my Cid, born at a good hour,
As his daughters ascended thrones in Aragon and Navarre!
Two Spanish kings were his close relations,
And he had brought honor to them.
My Cid left this world at Pentecost time:
May Christ have mercy on his soul,
As he will have for us all, both right and wrong!
Éstas son las nuevas de Mio Cid el Canpeador,
en este logar se acaba esta rrazón.
[The copyist of the manuscript adds:]
Quien escrivió este libro, ¡dél Dios paraíso, amen!
Per Abbat le escrivió en el mes de mayo
en era de mill r.C.C xL.v. años.
This the tale of my Cid, the Warrior,
And here my story is done.
[The copyist of the manuscript adds:]
May God grant paradise to the man who transcribed this book. Amen!
Written out by Per Abbat in the month of May
In the year of our Lord 1207.
Notes
Number in parentheses indicates stanza number.
Alvar Fáñez (2): The Cid’s closest confidant and his conduit to Alfonso in the poem. Historical records document his successful military career in service to the king but in fact he seems never to have been part of the Cid’s entourage in exile. Also referred to as Minaya, meaning “my brother” (a fusion between the Castilian possessive mi and the Basque anai, “brother”).
various names of the Cid (3): Ruy is the diminutive form of Rodrigo, and most often used when the patronymic Díaz follows immediately; Campeador, which could be translated as “Battler” or “Conqueror,” as well as “Warrior,” derives from the Latin Campi Doctoris, literally, “Master of the Battlefield.” Not only is Cid itself the direct Castilian adaptation of Arabic sayyid, but the somewhat unusual practice of calling him mio Cid derives from an understanding, and translation, of this honorific form of address in Arabic, sayyidi, “my lord.”
Saint Mary’s cathedral (4): The old cathedral of Burgos, built by Alfonso but torn down in the thirteenth century to make way for the Gothic cathedral that dominates the city today, and where the Cid and his wife, Jimena, are now buried.
Martín Antolínez (5): Almost certainly a completely fictional character, in the poem he is characterized as an exemplary citizen of Burgos, and serves as the head of the Cid’s household.
“[he who was] born at a lucky hour” (5): This formulaic epithet for the Cid, and variants on it, is repeated throughout, reminding us of the oral nature of the poem and other epics.
Raguel and Vidas (7-11): This famous episode shows the Cid hatching a plan that will allow him to deceive a pair of Jewish moneylenders. They will reappear briefly in the second canto, begging Alvar Fáñez to convey to the Cid that they’ll be ruined if he doesn’t repay their loan, but the matter is left
unresolved in the poem.
“to either Moors or Christians” (9): The expression as it is used here means “everybody/anybody” as in “Swear you won’t reveal this to anyone.” This first of many instances in the text of the word “Moor” underlines its commonplace meaning as “Muslim,” that is, as one of the three possible religious categories of citizens of medieval Spain.
San Pedro de Cardeña (11): One of the most important Benedictine monasteries of Castile, founded in the ninth century, and the most important center of the cult of the Cid, who was reburied here in 1102. When the Cid had died in Valencia in 1099 his wife, Jimena, had remained in control of the city, but three years later it was taken by the Almoravids. At that point Jimena took the Cid’s body to be buried in Cardeña, and asked to be buried there herself, although both were disinterred in the twentieth century and transferred to the cathedral of Burgos. The relationship between the monastery and its monks and the various historical and poetic traditions about the Cid has been the object of much scholarly curiosity and speculation, and some believe the poem’s author must have emerged from that environment.
“you, who wear so flowing a beard!” (16): The Cid’s beard symbolizes honor and virility and there are constant references to it within the poem. In this some scholars see the influence of other epic figures, and especially so from the depiction of Charlemagne’s legendary beard; there is, however, also the traditional practice of leaving one’s beard untrimmed as a marker of grief from ancient times. The Cid’s heart is said to be as soft as his beard, and at another point he proclaims, “No scissors will touch it, not a single hair will be cut,” out of love of his king. Further on, and at various critical junctures in the poem, it is prominently noted that no one has ever pulled the Cid’s beard, and this is clearly a great source of pride. When the Cid’s nemesis Don García Ordóñez later seeks to insult him, stating that his rival’s (unruly) beard is intended to inspire fear and terror, the Cid reminds the count that when the Warrior seized Cabra castle from him, not only did he pull the count’s beard but “Every single Moorish boy took his turn.” The count’s emasculation remains evident in that his beard “still hasn’t grown back.”
“Spain” (23): España is used here to mean what we would call Islamic Spain, or al-Andalus, as it was called in Arabic.