CLI.
With Dídago Gonzálvez now doth don Martin close
The spears. They broke the lances so furious were the blows.
Martin Antolínez on sword his hand he laid.
The whole field shone, so brilliant and flawless was the blade.
He smote a buffet. Sidewise it caught him fair and right.
Aside the upper helmet the glancing stroke did smite.
It clove the helmet laces. Through the mail-hood did it fall,
Unto the coif, hard slashing through coif and helm and all,
And scraped the hair upon his brow. Clear to the flesh it sped.
Of the helm a half fell earthward and half crowned yet his head.
When the glorious Coláda such a war-stroke had let drive,
Well knew Dídago Gonzálvez that he could not 'scape alive.
He turned the charger's bridle rein, and right about he wheeled.
A blade in hand he carried that he did not seek to wield.
From Martin Antolínez welcome with the sword he got.
With the flat Martin struck him. With the edge he smote him not.
Thereon that Heir of Carrión, a mighty yell he gave:
"Help me, Oh God most glorious, defend me from that glaive."
Wheeling his horse, in terror he fled before the blade.
The steed bore him past the boundary. On the field don Martin
stayed.
Then said the King: "Now hither come unto my meinie.
Such a deed thou hast accomplished as has won this fight for
thee."
That a true word he had spoken so every judge deemed well.
CLII.
The twain had won. Now let us of Muño Gustióz tell,
How with Ansuór Gonzálvez of himself account he gave.
Against each other's bucklers the mighty strokes they drave.
Was Ansuór Gonzálvez a gallant man of might.
Against don Muño Gustióz on the buckler did he smite,
And piercing through the buckler, right through the cuirass broke.
Empty went the lance; his body was unwounded by the stroke.
That blow struck, Muño Gustióz has let his buffet fly.
Through the boss in the middle was the buckle burst thereby.
Away he could not ward it. Through his cuirass did it dart.
Through one side was it driven though not nigh unto the heart.
Through the flesh of his body he thrust the pennoned spear,
On the far side he thrust it a full fathom clear.
He gave one wrench. Out of the selle that cavalier he threw.
Down to the earth he cast him, when forth the lance he drew.
And shaft and lance and pennon all crimson came they out.
All thought that he was wounded to the death without a doubt.
The lance he has recovered, he stood the foe above.
Said Gonzálvo Ansuórez: "Smite him not for God his love.
Now is won out the combat for all this game is done."
"We have heard defeat conceded," said the judges every one.
The good King don Alfonso bade them clear the field straightway.
For himself he took the armour upon it yet that lay.
In honor have departed they who serve the Campeador.
Glory be to the Creator, they have conquered in the war.
Throughout the lands of Carrión was sorrow at the height.
The King my lord Cid's henchmen has sent away by night,
That they should not be frightened or ambushed on the way,
Like men of prudent spirit they journeyed night and day.
Ho! in Valencia with the Cid the Campeador they stand.
On Carrión's Heirs of knavery the three have put the brand,
And paid the debt the lord Cid set upon them furthermore.
On that account right merry was the Cid Campeador.
Upon the heirs of Carrión is come a mighty smirch.
Who flouts a noble lady and leaves her in the lurch,
May such a thing befall him, or worse fortune let him find.
Of Carrión's Heirs the dealings let us leave them now behind.
For what has been vouchsafed them now were they all forlorn.
Of this man let us make mention who in happy hour was born.
And great are the rejoicings through Valencia the town,
Because the Campeador his men had won such great renown.
His beard their lord Roy Diaz hard in his hand has ta'en:
"Thanks to the King of Heaven, well are 'venged my daughters
twain.
Now may they hold their Carrión lands. Their shame is wiped away.
I will wed them in great honor, let it grieve whom it may."
They of Navarre and Aragon were busied now to treat,
And with Alfonso of León in conference they meet.
Dame Sol and Dame Elvíra in due course wedded are.
Great were their former matches, but these are nobler far.
He gave with greater honor than before the twain to wed;
He who in happy hour was born still doth his glory spread,
Since o'er Navarre and Aragon as queens his daughters reign;
Today are they kinswomen unto the kings of Spain.
From him came all that honor who in good hour had birth.
The Cid who ruled Valencia has departed from the earth
At Pentecost. His mercy may Christ to him extend.
To us all, just men or sinners, may He yet stand our friend.
Lo! the deeds of the Cid Campeador! Here takes the book an end.