Meantime the Count Rollánd revives.—Erect

He stands, but with great pain; then downward looks

And upward. Then he sees the noble lord

The Archbishop, holy minister of God,

Beyond his comrades lying on the sward

Stretched out.—He lifts his eyes to Heav'n, recalls

His sins, and raising both his joinèd hands,

He prays Our God to grant him paradise.—

Turpin, Carle's Knight, is dead, who all his life,

With doughty blows and sermons erudite,

Ne'er ceased to fight the Pagans. May the Lord

Grant him His holy blessing evermore!

Aoi.