From Spain at last the Emperor has returned

To Aix, the noblest seat of France; ascends

His palace, enters in the stately hall.—

Now comes to greet him the fair [lady] Aude,

And asks the King:—"Where is Rollánd the chief

Who pledged his faith to take me for his wife?"

Sore-pained, heart-broken, Carle, with weeping eyes,

Tears his white beard.—"Ah! sister well beloved,

Thou askest me of one who is no more.

A worthier match I give thee in exchange;

Loewis it is. I can not better say.

He is my son, and will protect my realms."

Aude answers:—"To my ear these words are strange.

May God, His saints, His angels, all forfend

That, if Rollánd lives not, I still should live."

Her color fades, she falls prone at the feet

Of Carlemagne—dead ... God's mercy on her soul!

Barons of France mourn her with pitying tears.

Aoi.