Note 332 — Chapter X · Gothic Art in Normandy[314]

“Li quens Rollanz se jut desuz un pin; Envers Espaigne en ad turnet sun vis. De plusurs choses à remembrer li prist; De toutes teres que li bers ad cunquis, De dulce France, des humes de sun lign, De Carlemagne, sun seignur, ki l’nurrit, Ne poet muer n’en plurt e ne suspirt. Mais lui meïsme ne voelt metre en ubli; Cleimet sa culpe, si priet Deu mercit: ’Viere paterne, ki unkes ne mentis, Seit Lazarin de mort resurrexis E Daniel des leuns quaresis, Guaris de mei l’aume de tuz perilz Pur les pecchiez que en ma vie fis!’ Sun destre gant à Deu en puroffrit, E de sa main seinz Gabriel l’ad pris. Desur sun braz teneit le chef enclin: Juintes ses mains est alez à sa fin. Deus li tramist sun angle chérubin, Seinz Raphael, seinz Michiel de l’Péril, Ensemble od els seinz Gabriels i vint, L’aume de l’Cunte portent en pareïs.” (“Roland the brave lay prone beneath a pine, Toward Spain his face was turned as conqueror, Of many things came back the memory sharp, The host of places he had won in war, Thoughts of sweet France and of his parentage, Of Charlemagne, his lord, who nurtured him; And tears and sighs rose as the memories surged. Nor did he wish his own self to forget. Demanding grace of God, he told his sins: ‘Our Father true, who never yet has lied, Who from the grave raised Blessed Lazarus, Who Daniel saved from lions, save my soul. Pardon the sins that I have stained it with!’ Toward God he held his right-hand gauntlet up, Archangel Gabriel took it from his hand. Then on his arm his head sank slowly down, Hands clasped in prayer his spirit passed beyond. God to him sent his angel cherubim, Archguardian Michael, him called of the Peril, St. Raphael and St. Gabriel with him came And bore the Count’s soul straight to Paradise.”)