The Emperor Carle dismounts, prostrates himself

Upon the verdant grass, invoking God

With eyes uplifted toward the rising sun:

"O father true, this day be my defense!

Thy hand it was saved Jonas from the whale

Within whose body he was swallowed up;

Thou sparedst too the king of Niniva;

And Daniel didst thou save from cruel pain

When thrown among the lions. By thy might

Stood the three children safe in burning flames,

This day grant also unto me thy love,

Merciful God! List to my prayer; vouchsafe

That I avenge my nephew, dear Rollánd!"

Thus having prayed, he stands erect and marks

His forehead with the sign of might: Then mounts

A fleet-hoofed courser. Naimes and Joseran

Carle's stirrup hold—With buckler on his arm

And trenchant lance in rest; strength, beauty, grace

Sat on his countenance and visage fair.

Then firmly seated on his horse he rides....

Clarions in rear and front reëcho 'round....

But above all rings out the olifant.

Meantime the French weep ... mourning for Rollánd.

Aoi.