It happened that the men who guarded the lion heard that the Moors had come, and rushed to the palace to see if the news were true, forgetting in their anxiety to close the door of the court behind them. And lo and behold! the lion, when it had dined right royally, and saw the door open, walked out of the court and straight into the great hall where all the company were assembled. It certainly was an alarming sight, and the people did not know what to do, fearing that the lion might be roused to fury and tear some of them to pieces. Diego and Fernan Gonzalez showed more terror and cowardice than all the rest, and Diego ran and hid himself under the Cid's chair, and very nearly died of fright in his undignified retreat, whilst Fernan rushed out of a gallery which led into a court where there was a winepress, and entering therein he tumbled among the lees, which served him quite right.
The others remained in the hall, and stood around the Cid to guard him while he slept. The noise of their talking, however, at last awakened him, and he saw how the lion came towards him and licked his hand, and he asked what it meant. And when the lion heard his voice, it stood quite quiet, and the Cid arose and took it by the neck as if it had been a hound, and made it go back to its iron house, calmly giving orders that it should be more strictly guarded in future.
When the Infantes came out of their hiding-places they must have felt very much ashamed, but they gave a very different version of the story to what had really happened. In the famous poem of the Cid, which contains a great deal of historic truth, Ruy Diaz forbears reproaching his sons-in-law for their cowardice. Be that as it may, they made the event a pretence for taking offence with him, as they were wicked and discontented men; they were tired of their wives, and thought that they ought to have wedded damsels of far higher rank than the daughters of the Cid. So they said that he had arranged that the lion should come out of its den only to put them to shame before all the hidalgos; and their uncle, Suero Gonzalez, wickedly advised them to ask Ruy Diaz to let them take their wives to their home in Carrion, that, once out of Valencia, they might do with them whatsoever they pleased.
In the meantime there was much noise in the city. Bucar had landed his forces, and arrived in a plain about a league from Valencia, which was called Quarto; and there the Cid gave him such a defeat that he was obliged to flee with his diminished army across the sea. Ruy Diaz was still kindly disposed towards his sons-in-law; and when the battle was over he thanked them for the share they had had in it, when they had really done nothing at all, and had only pretended to fight; such men were not worthy to have married the daughters of the Cid! Now they said that they had heard no news of their father and mother in Carrion since they left Castille; and they wanted to take their wives home, and tell their parents what honour they had attained to by marrying them. Doña Ximena had no faith in them, and she told her husband that they were not true-hearted; she was very loth to let her daughters go with them; nevertheless the Cid trusted them still, and one day Elvira and Sol set out from Valencia with the Infantes; their parents, and a great and valiant company going with them two leagues on the road to Castille. Before they started, Ruy Diaz gave them presents worthy of a king. First of all, he gave them a quantity of cloth of gold, silk, and wool, a hundred horses richly caparisoned, and a hundred mules with gorgeous trappings; then he gave them ten goblets of pure gold, and a hundred vases of silver besides quantities of silver in plate and shields. A hundred well-appointed knights were to accompany them into Castille; amongst whom were two very brave men, named Martin Pelaez and Pero Sanchez, whom the Cid held in great esteem. Last of all he gave the Infantes each a golden-hilted sword to defend their wives with; these two swords he prized very much, because he had won them from the Moors, and he had named them Colada and Tizona.
When it was time to part, Elvira and Sol took a sorrowful leave of their parents, and the Cid, as he turned away from them began to feel some misgivings in his heart, and to wonder if Ximena had really been right in her distrust. The Infantes, however, still promised to treat their wives with honour, and the cavalcade went on towards Castille. On the way they were entertained by a Moorish king, a vassal of the Cid's, who could not do enough to show his pleasure in welcoming them, and so far all was well, and they went through the valleys until they reached the oak forest of Torpes. When they arrived there the Infantes told all the knights to go forward, and said they would stay for a while in the forest. Elvira asked her husband Diego why they remained there alone; he replied that she should soon see. Then these wicked men took their wives by the hair and dragged them along until they came to the fountain of Torpes, and there they beat them with the leathern girths of their saddles until the blood flowed from their wounds. And they took from them all the costly jewels, and robes of silk and ermine Doña Ximena had given them, and went on their way, leaving the poor ladies half dead by themselves in the forest, where the wild beasts might have come and devoured them. Elvira and Sol startled the birds in the branches overhead by the piteous cries they uttered in their terror and pain; then, finding that no one came to their aid, they said their prayers very fervently, and sank fainting to the ground.
The cruel Infantes mounted their horses, and took the mules which had carried their wives, and said aloud as they went out of the forest, "Now we have done with the daughters of the Cid! We demeaned ourselves by marrying them, and we are avenged of the affront their father put upon us by letting loose the lion."
Felez Nuñoz, however, the nephew of the Cid, happened to pass that way, and he heard what the Infantes said. He would have punished them on the spot, but he feared they would return and perhaps kill their wives; so he went into the deep oak glades, and kept calling his cousins by their names until he found them. Then, in great sorrow to behold the terrible plight they were in, he gave them water to drink, and carried them to a part of the forest where they would be in greater safety, and made a soft couch for them of tender green leaves and grass, whereon they might rest, for they were utterly worn out.
The knights had gone on their way, and when they saw the Infantes coming towards them bringing with them the mules and the rich robes of their wives, they began to fear that some evil deed had been done, and they all crowded round them, taunting them with their cowardice, and threatening to fight them. The Infantes wanted to be rid of them all, and declared that if the knights would go back to the forest, they would find Elvira and Sol by the fountain there unharmed. So Martin Pelaez and Pero Sanchez, and all the bravest men in the company returned thither; but when Felez Nuñoz and his cousins heard their voices they were alarmed, thinking the Infantes were near; and they kept quite still, so that the knights could not find them, and returned, very angry, to pursue the cowardly brothers, feeling sure that some foul deed had been done. Diego and Fernan, however, were already beyond their pursuit,—craven-hearted men can fly fast, and the knights set out at once for the court of Don Alonzo, and told their king all that had happened.
Now the ladies in the forest at first had nothing to eat, and were very near dying of hunger, when, by good fortune Felez Nuñoz found his way to a village where he bought them food, and he kept them thus from starving for seven days; but could not make their misfortunes known to the Cid because he feared to leave them by themselves in the wild forest. At last he found in his village a worthy man in whose house the Cid had once lodged, and he brought two asses to the forest, and made the noble ladies mount them, and led them in safety to his own house, where his wife tended them kindly, rejoicing that she had them under her roof. Here they wrote a letter to their father, which Felez Nuñoz undertook to convey to him at Valencia. On the road thither he met Alvar Fanez and Pero Bermudez, who were going to the king with a present from Ruy Diaz, of two hundred horses he had won in his battle with Bucar, besides a number of swords and a hundred Moorish captives. These knights were enabled to give Don Alonzo a faithful account of all that had happened, and the king was very indignant at the wickedness of his vassals, and appointed a day, three months from the time, when he would hear the matter through, and give judgment in his Cortes at Toledo. And Alvar and Pero set out in search of the Cid's daughters, taking with them from Alonzo two mules, with saddles richly adorned with gold, and jewelled robes for the sisters, so that they might return to Valencia in the same attire they had worn when they started on their hapless journey. When they had found them at the good man's house, Pero went on to Valencia, and Alvar remained with the knights who had followed him to guard his cousins. The indignation and anger of the mighty Cid may be imagined when he heard how his children had been treated. Doña Ximena was more dead than alive, and she was thankful indeed when she had her dear daughters safe at home with her once more.
Great preparations were made for the day of trial. The walls of the palace, where judgment was to be given, were hung with cloth of gold, rich carpets were spread on the floor, and a great throne was placed in readiness for the king. The Cid left Hieronymo and Martin Pelaez in charge of his city, and set out betimes for Toledo with so great a host of followers that it looked like an army. When he drew near Alonzo came out to meet him, but he would not cross the Tagus that night, and had candles lighted in the church of Saint Servans on the shore, and kept a vigil there a great part of the night with his friends. And he ordered one of his hidalgos to set a beautiful ivory chair he had won from the Moors close beside the king's throne, and sent a hundred squires, each one an hidalgo, to stand around it all night to guard it, with swords hanging from their necks.