Chapter XLVI

When my lord the Cid was ready from the Castle to depart, The Moors both men and women cried out in bitter woe: "Lord Cid art thou departing? Still may our prayers go Before thy path, for with thee we are full well content." For my lord the great Cid of Bivár, when from Alcocér he went, The Moors both men and women made lamentation sore. He lifted up the standard, forth marched the Campeador. Down the Jalón he hastened, on he went spurring fast. He saw birds of happy omen, as from the stream he passed. Glad were the townsmen of Terrér that he had marched away, And the dwellers in Calatayúd were better pleased than they. But in the town of Alcocér 'twas grief to all and one, For many a deed of mercy unto them the Cid had done. My lord the Cid spurred onward. Forward apace he went; 'Twas near to the hill Monreál that he let pitch his tent. Great is the hill and wondrous and very high likewise. Be it known from no quarter doth he need to dread surprise. And first he forced Doróca tribute to him to pay, And then levied on Molína on the other side that lay, Teruél o'er against him to submit he next compelled And lastly Celfa de Canál within his power he held.