Upon a rounded hillock that was both strong and high.
They could not rob him of water; the Jalon it flowed hard by.
My lord Cid don Rodrigo planned to storm Alcocer.

XXVII. He pitched a strong encampment upon the hillock there,
Some men were toward the mountains, some by the stream arrayed.
The gallant Cid, who in good hour had girded on the blade,
Bade his men near the water dig a trench about the height,
That no man might surprise them by day nor yet by night.
So might men know that there the Cid had taken up his stand.

XXVIII.
And thereupon the tidings went out through all that land,
How my lord Cid the Campeador had there got footing sure,
He is gone forth from the Christians, he is come unto the Moor,
In his presence no man dareth plough the farmlands as of yore.
Very merry with his vassals was the great Campeador.
And Alcocer the Castle wider tribute had he laid.

XXIX.
In Alcocer the burghers to the Cid their tribute paid
And all the dwellers in Terrer and Teca furthermore.
And the townsmen of Calatayud, know well, it irked them sore.
Full fifteen weeks he tarried there, but the town yielded not.
And when he saw it forthwith the Cid devised a plot.
Save one left pitched behind him, he struck his every tent.
Then with his ensign lifted, down the Jalon he went,
With mail-shirts on and girded swords, as a wise man should him
bear.
To draw forth to his ambush the men of Alcocer.