did
not break, and the hero bewailed himself aloud, saying, "Alas! my good
Durendala, how bright and pure thou art! How thou flamest in the
sunbeams, as when the angel brought thee! How many lands hast thou
conquered for Charles my King, how many champions slain, how many
heathen converted! Must I now leave thee to the pagans? May God spare
fair France this shame!" A third time Roland raised the sword and
struck a rock of blue marble, which split asunder, but the steel only
grated--it would not break; and the hero knew that he could do no
more.

His Last Prayer

Then he flung himself on the ground under a pine-tree with his face to
the earth, his sword and Olifant beneath him, his face to the foe,
that Charlemagne and the Franks might see when they came that he died
victorious. He made his confession, prayed for mercy, and offered to
Heaven his glove, in token of submission for all his sins. "_Mea
culpa!_ O God! I pray for pardon for all my sins, both great and
small, that I have sinned from my birth until this day." So he held up
towards Heaven his right-hand glove, and the angels of God descended
around him. Again Roland prayed:

"'O very Father, who didst never lie,
Didst bring St. Lazarus from the dead again,
Didst save St. Daniel from the lion's mouth,
Save Thou my soul and keep it from all ills
That I have merited by all my sins!'"

He Dies

Again he held up to Heaven his glove, and St. Gabriel received it;
then, with head bowed and hands clasped, the hero died, and the
waiting cherubim, St. Raphael, St. Michael, and St. Gabriel, bore his
soul to Paradise.

So died Roland and the Peers of France.

Charles Arrives

Soon after Roland's heroic spirit had passed away the emperor came
galloping out of the mountains into the valley of Roncesvalles, where
not a foot of ground was without its burden of death.

Loudly he called: "Fair nephew, where art thou? Where is the
archbishop? And Count Oliver? Where are the Peers?"

Alas! of what avail was it to call? No man replied, for all were dead;
and Charlemagne wrung his hands, and tore his beard and wept, and his
army bewailed their slain comrades, and all men thought of vengeance.
Truly a fearful vengeance did Charles take, in that terrible battle
which he fought the next day against the Emir of Babylon, come from
oversea to help his vassal Marsile, when the sun stood still in heaven
that the Christians might be avenged on their en