My Cid Pledges Two Coffres Full of Sand to the Jews Rachel and Vidas
“Martin Antolinez, a dowghtye lance art thow
And be my troth thy hire shall ne stinted be, I vow
My gold, alack, is all yespent and eke the silver toe,
And richesse bere I none with me as God on hye is trewe.
With an ill wille I do itte, for my brave companye’s sake,
Togither with thy gude reade tweye strong chests we will make,
The leather schal be cramasie, the nails schal be of gold,
And we’ll fill them ful of gravele, as much as thei can hold
Toe Rachel and to Vidas, now hie thee speedilee:
An outlawe I from Burgos towne, the Kyng is wrath with me,
I needs must leave my tresor because of its sore weyt,
And I will plege it to them at an anantageus rate.”
Martin Antolinez spedde to towne without delai,
And saw the tweye Jewes upon that verye day.
“O Rachel and thow Vidas, dere frendes are ye in trothe,
A message I have privyly to telle onto youe bothe.”
They did not keep him waiting, they went asyde all thre.
“Here Rachel, and thow Vidas, praye giv your handes to me,
Betray me not to Xtian nor yet to any More,
And I will make you ryche, you schal never more be poor.
The Campeador alate gathered in the landes dutie,
And keped from the Kyng grete and mickle bootie;
Tweye coffres he has gotten brimful of shinand gold
And he cannot bere hem with him, unless he had them sold;
But he’ll give them in your keepyng, and borrow what is just,
Soe take the coffres in your care, with hem we youe entrust,
And laye your handes within mine and tel me one and bothe,
That you wil not look insyde them al this yere upon your oathe”—
“And what will my Cid paye toe us for keepyng safe his treasure?”—
Quoth Martin Antolinez, “He will paye you in due measure
But now he needes a hundred markes, and you can paye them here.”—
“We never paye,” the Jewes sayde, “afore we have the ware.”
Soe they mounted ther swift corsiares and rade richt speedilee,
Wen my Cid saw them comynge, he lought most lustilee.
The Jewes bent loe and kissed his hande, Martin wrote down the deed,
Thei sholde have care of the coffers but of lookyng in tayk heed.
The myrth youe sholde have witnest wen the chests were borne away,
They coulde not bere them by themselves all gyf no striplings they.
Sayd Rachel to the Campeador, “O Cid, I kisse thy hand,
Myght I a fyn red moorish skynne on thi returne demande?”
“Richt willyngley,” sayde my Cid, “sych gifts I gladly offer,
Shoulde I perchaunce forget itte, youe must count it on the coffer.”
In the middle of the hall they stretch’d a carpet fringed and rare,
And a shete of fyn bleached linen was also laid out ther.
In a single lot of silver thre hundrith markes they payed;
Brave Antolinez counted them but did not have hem weyed.
Thre hundrith more he toke in gold, and then bespake the two:
“O Rachel and thow Vidas, mickle gain I’ve brought to you,
And in soth I’ve earned your thanks gif not a pair of breeches toe.”
Vidas and Rachel youde asyde and speedilye agreed
That Antolinez verile had earned of them ryche meede.
“Thritte odde markes, wich is but just, Martin, we’ll giv to youe,
And you can buye some fur, a cloake, and paire of breeches toe.
Soe Antolinez took the markes and thanked them hertelye,
And tayking curteous leave of them spedde backe richt merrylye.
“Poema del Cid” (Twelfth Century).