When Count Raymond had given up
his precious sword, the great Colada, the good one of Bivar endeavored to
make friends with his prisoner, but to no avail. The count refused meat
and drink, and was determined to die, until the Cid assured him that as
soon as he ate a hearty meal he should go free. Then he departed joyfully
from the camp, fearing even to the last lest the Cid should change his
mind, a thing the perfect one never would have done.
Cheered by this conquest, the Cid turned to Valencia, and met a great
Moorish army, which was speedily defeated, the Cid's numbers having been
greatly increased by men who flocked to him from Spain. Two Moorish kings
were slain, and the survivors were pursued even to Valencia. Then my Cid
sat down before the city for nine months, and in the tenth month Valencia
surrendered. The spoil--who could count it? All were rich who accompanied
the Cid, and his fifth was thirty thousand marks in money, besides much
other spoil. And my Cid's renown spread throughout Spain. Wonderful was he
to look upon, for his beard had grown very long. For the love of King
Alfonso, who had banished him, he said it should never be cut, nor a hair
of it be plucked, and it should be famous among Moors and Christians. Then
he again called Minaya to him, and to King Alfonso sent a hundred horses,
with the request that his wife and daughters might be allowed to join him.
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