The Lay of the Cid. Folio 24v

In Valencia they knew not what to do for very fear.
Of my lord Cid the great tidings, be it known, on all sides spread.

LXIX

His renown afar is spreading. Beyond the sea it sped.
Glad were the companies the Cid a glad man was he
That God had given him succor and gained that victory.
And they sent forth their harriers. By night they marched away,
They reached unto Cullera, and to Jativa came they.
And ever downward even to Denia town they bore.
And all the Moorish country by the sea he wasted sore.
Penacadell, outgoing and entrance, have they ta'en.

LXX

When the Cid took Penacadell, it was great grief and pain
To them who in Cullera and in Jativa did dwell,
And sorrow without measure in Valencia befell.

LXXI

Three years those towns to conquer in the Moorish land he bode,
Winning much; by day he rested, and at night was on the road.

LXXII

On the dwellers in Valencia they wrought chastisement sore,
From the town they dared not sally against him to make war.
He harried all their gardens and a mighty ruin made;
And all those years their harvest in utter waste he laid.
Loud lamented the Valencians, for sore bested they were,
Nor could find in any quarter any sort of provender;
Nor could the father aid the son, nor the son aid the sire,
Nor comrade comfort comrade. Gentles, 'tis hardship dire
To lack for bread, and see our wives and children waste away.