When they had gone the Cid struck his camp and galloped through the night to the monastery of San Pedro de Cardeña, where his lady, Donna Ximena, and his two young daughters lay. He found them deeply engaged in prayer for his welfare, and they received him with heartfelt expressions of joy. Taking the Abbot aside, the Cid explained to him that he was about to fare forth on adventure in the country of the Moors, and tendered him such a sum as would provide for the maintenance of Donna Ximena and her daughters until his return, as well as a goodly bounty for the convent’s sake.
By this time tidings of the Cid’s banishment had gone through the land broadcast, and so great was the fame of his prowess that cavaliers from near and far flocked to his banner. When he put foot in stirrup at the bridge of Arlanza a hundred and fifty gentlemen had assembled to follow his fortunes. The parting with his wife and daughters presents a poignant picture of leave-taking:
Sharp as the pain when finger-nails are wrenched from off the hand,
So felt the Cid this agony, but turned him to his band,
And vaulted in the saddle, and forth led his menie,
But ever and anon he turned his streaming eyes to see
Dear faces he might see no more, till blunt Minaya, irked
To see the yearning and regret that on his heartstrings worked,
Cried out, “O born in happy hour,[5] let not thy soul be sad:
The heart of knight on venture bound should never but be glad.