CLXVIII.

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.