“Now gentles, keep ye fast your seats,” cries the Campeador,
“And hold your ranks, for such a charge saw never knight before.”
But the fierce heart of Bermuez that echoed to the drum,
Cried, “Santiago, shall I stay the while these heathen come?
With this bold banner shall I pierce yon pride of paynimrie.
So follow, follow, cavaliers, for Spain and Christendie!”
“Nay, comrade, stay!” implored the Cid, but Pero shook his head.
His hand was loose upon the rein. “It may not be,” he said;
Then in his destrier’s flank he drove the bright speed-making spur:
Like a spray-scattering ship he clove the sands of Alcocer.