"Sweet friend," he cried, "Rollánd, thou art no more:

Oh! may thy soul have place in Paradise!

Who gave thee death brought grievous shame to France.

Such is my grief, I would not longer live.

My kinsmen died for me! I pray Our Lord,

The Blessed Mary's son, before I reach

Cizra's defiles, from mortal life to take

My soul away, and let it rest with theirs.

I would my body lay beside their own!"

And, weeping sore, he tears his hoary beard....

Then said Duke Naimes:—"What cruel pain is Carle's!"

Aoi.