The Count Rollánd feels now his end approach.

Against a pointed rock, and facing Spain,

He lies. Three times he beats his breast, and says:

"Mea culpa! Oh, my God, may through thy grace,

Be pardoned all my sins, or great or small,

Until this hour committed since my birth!"

Then his right glove he offers up to God,

And toward him angels from high Heav'n descend.


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