fume.
And there appeared to the Cid a tall and stately old man, with long
snowy hair, holding keys in his hand; and thus he spoke,--

"Sleepest thou, Rodrigo?"

"What man art thou?" the Cid asked his strange visitor boldly.

"I am Saint Peter, prince of the apostles," he said; "and I am come to
tell thee that when thirty days be past, thou must quit this world and
go to the life that hath no end. But God will so favor thee that after
thy death thou shalt conquer and rout King Bucar. This does Christ grant
thee for love of me and for the honor thou didst ever pay me in my
church at Cardenas." And after he had spoken, Saint Peter straightway
departed. Then the Cid rejoiced greatly, and the next day he called his
chief men, and said to them,--

"My friends and kinsmen, be sure that I am now come upon the end of my
life, and thirty days hence shall see my end. I have seen visions of my
father and son, and each time they say: 'Long hast thou tarried here;
let us begone to the eternal life.'

"And last night Saint Peter came to me and told me that in thirty days I
shall pass away; but before I leave you, I will show you how you shall
conquer King Bucar, as Saint Peter did promise me."

Then the Cid betook himself to the church of Saint Peter. There all the
people assembled, and he bade them farewell, weeping sore. After
confessing his sins and receiving absolution, he went back to the
Alcazar and cast himself upon the bed, and never again did he rise up.
Seven days before the end of the thirty he bade them bring him a gold
cup, and in it he mixed with rose-water a little balsam and myrrh, sent
him by the Sultan of Persia, and drank the mixture.

This he did each day, as was the custom of Moorish princes; and so his
body and face became fresh and healthy-looking, though he grew weaker
every hour. At last he called his wife, Ximena, Bishop Hieronymo, and
his three most trusty friends, and said,--

"As soon as I be dead, ye shall wash my body many times with rose-water
and balsam. And thou, Ximena, take heed that thou and the women cry not
aloud nor wail for me so that the Moors get knowledge of my death. And
when Bucar is come, bid all the folk of Valencia go forth on the wall
and sound trumpets, and show great glee. Also bid the people get
together their goods in secret, that the Moors know it not, for ye may
not tarry here after my death, but must needs go back to Castile. Thou,
Gil Diaz, deck my body with care, and