With fifty thousand men.

4 Now God be praised! the Cid he cried,
Let every hold be stored:
Let fly the holy Gonfalon,[195]
And give, "St James," the word.

5 And now, upon the turret high,
Was heard the signal drum;
And loud the watchman blew his trump,
And cried, They come! they come!

6 The Cid then raised his sword on high,
And by God's Mother swore,
These walls, hard-gotten, he would keep,
Or bathe their base in gore.

7 My wife, my daughter, what, in tears!
Nay, hang not thus your head;
For you shall see how well we fight;
How soldiers earn their bread.

8 We will go out against the Moors,
And crush them in your sight;
And all the Christians shouted loud,
May God defend the right!

9 He took his wife and daughter's hand,
So resolute was he,
And led them to the highest tower
That overlooks the sea.

10 They saw how vast a pagan power
Came sailing o'er the brine;
They saw, beneath the morning light,
The Moorish crescents shine.

11 These ladies then grew deadly pale,
As heart-struck with dismay;
And when they heard the tambours beat,
They turned their heads away.

12 The thronged streamers glittering flew,
The sun was shining bright,
Now cheer, the valiant Cid he cried,
This is a glorious sight!

13 Whilst thus, with shuddering look aghast,
These fearful ladies stood,
The Cid, he raised his sword, and cried,
All this is for your good:

14 Ere fifteen days are gone and past,
If God assist the right,
Those tambours that now sound to scare,
Shall sound for your delight.

15 The Moors who pressed beneath the towers,
Now Allah! Allah! sung;
Each Christian knight his broadsword drew,
And loud the trumpets rung.

16 Then up, the noble Cid bespoke,
Let each brave warrior go,
And arm himself, in dusk of morn,
Ere chanticleer shall crow;

17 And in the lofty minster church,
On Santiago call,--
That good Bishop Hieronymo,
Shall there absolve you all.

18 But let us prudent counsel take,
In this eventful hour;
For yon proud infidels, I ween,
They are a mighty power.

19 Then Alvar Fanez counselled well,