XXX.

. The abbot sign’d the great cross on his front,

« Then go you with God's benison and mine;» Orlando, after be had scaled the mount,

As the abbot bad directed, kept the line
Right to the usual haunt of Passamont;

Who, seeing him alone in this design,
Survey'd bim fore and aft with eyes observant,
Then asked him, «Jf he wish'd to stay as servant?»

XXXI.
And promised him an office of great ease;

But, said Orlando, « Saracen insane!
I come to kill you, if it shall so please

God, not to serve as fooiboy in your train;
You with his monks so oft have broke the peace -

Vile dog!'ı is past his patience to sustain.»
The giant ran to fetch his arms, quite furious,
When he received an answer so injurious.

XXXII.
And being returu'd to where Orlando stood,

Who had not moved him from the spot, and swinging The cord, he hurld a stone with strength so rude,

As show'd a sample of his skill in slinging;
Il rolld on Count Orlando's helmet good

And head, and set both head and helmet ringing,
So that he swoou'd with pain as if he died,
But more than dead, he seem'd so stupified.

XXXUI.
Then Passamont, who thought him slain outright,

Said, « I will go, and, while he lies along,
Disarm me : why such craven did I fight?»

But Christ his servants ne'er abandons long, Especially Orlando, such a knight,

As to desert would almost be a wrong.
While the giant goes to put off his defences,
Orlando has recall'd his force and senses :

XXXIV.
And loud he shouted, «Giant, where dost go?

Thou thought'st me doubtless for the bier outlaid; To the right about, without wings thou 'rt too slow

To fly my vengeance-currish renegade!
'T was but by treachery thou laid'st me low.»

The giant his astonishment betray'd,
And turn d about, and stopp'd his journey on,
And then he stoop'd to pick up a great stone.

XXXV.
Orlando had Cortana bare in hand,

To split the head in (waio was what he schemedCortana clave the skull like a true brand,

And Pagan Passamont died upredeemd. Yet harsh and haughty, as he lay be bann'd,

And most devoutly Macon still blasphemed;
But while his crude, rude blasphemies he heard,
Orlando thank'd the Father and the Word,-

XXXVI.
Saying, « What grace to me thou 'st given !

And I to thee, oh Lorů, am ever bound.
I know my life was saved by thee froin heaven,

Siace by the giant I was fairly down'd.
All thiogs by thee are measured just and even;

Our power without thine aid would nought be found :
I pray thee take heed of me, till I cau
At least return once more to Carloman.»

XXXVII.
And having said thus much, he went his way;

And Alabaster he found out below,
Doing the very best that in him lay

To root from out a bank a rock or two, Orlando, when he reach'd him, loud'gan say,

« How think'st thou, glution, such a stone to throw !» When Alabaster heard his deep voice ring, He suddenly betook him to his sling.

XXXVUI.
And hurl'd a fragment of a size so large,

That if it had in fact fulbild its mission,
And Roland not avail'd him of his targe,

There would bave been no need of a physician. Orlando set himself in turn to charge,

And in his bulky bosom made incision With all his sword. The lout fell; but, o'erthrown, he However by no means forgot Macone.

XXXIX. Morgante had a palace in his mode,

Composed of branches, logs of wood, and carth, And stretch'd himself at ease in this abode,

And shut himself at night within his birth.
Orlando knock'd, and koock'd, again to goad

The giant from his sleep; and be came forth,
The door to open, like a crazy thing,
For a rough dream had shook him slumbering.

XL.
He thought that a fierce serpent had attack'd bin,

And Mahomet he calld, but Mahomet
Is nothing worth, and not an instant back'd him;

But praying blessed Jesu, he was set
At liberty from all the fears which rack d him;

And to the gate he came with great regret « Who knocks here?» grumbling all the while, said he: « That,» said Orlando, « you will quickly see.

XLI. «I come to preach to you, as to your brothers,

Sent by the miserable monks-repentance; For Providence divine, in you and others,

Condemns the evil done by new acquaintance. *T is writ on high-- your wrong must pay another's;

From heaven itself is issued out this sentence;
Know then, that colder now than a pilaster
I left your Passa mont and Alabaster.»

XLII.
Morgante said, «O gentle cavalier!

Now by thy God say me po villany;
The favour of your name I fain would hear,

And if a Christian, speak for courtesy.”
Replied Orlando, « So much to your ear

I by my faith disclose contentedly;
Christ I adore, who is the genuine Lord,
And, if
you please, by you may be adored.

XLUI.
The Saracen rejoin'd in humble tone,

« I have had an extraordinary vision; A savage serpent fell on me alone,

And Macou would not pity my condition ; Hence to thy God, who for ye did atone

Upon the cross, preferr'd I my petition; Ilis timely succour set me safe and free, And I a Christian am disposed to be.»

XLIV.
Orlando answers, « Baron just and pious,

If this good wish your heart can really move
To the true God, who will not then deny us

Eternal honour, you will go above.
And, if you please, as friends we will ally us,

And I will love you with a perfect love.
Your idols are vain liars full of fraud,
The only true God is the Christian's God.

XLV.
« The Lord descended to the virgin brcast

Of Mary Mother, sinless and divine;
If you acknowledge the Redcemer blest,

Without whom neither sun or star can shine,
Abjure bad Macon's false and felou tesi,

Your renegado God, and worship mine, -
Baptise yourself with zeal, since you repeut.»
To which Morgante answerd, «I'm content.»

XLVI.
And then Orlando to embrace him new,

And made much of bis convert, as he cried, « To the abbey I will gladly marshal you:»

To whom Morgante, « Let us go,» replied ; « 1 to the friars have for peace to sue.»

Which thing Orlando beard with inward pride,
Saying, « My brother, so devout and good,
Ask the abbot pardon, as I wish you would :

XLVII.
« Since God has granted your illumination,

Accepting you in mercy for his own, Humility should be your first oblation.»

Morgante said, « For goodness' sake make knownSince that your God is to be mine-your station,

And let your name in verity be shown; Then will I every thing at your command do. On which the other said, he was Orlando.

XLVIII. * Then,» quoth the giant, « blessed be Jesu,

A thousand times with gratitude and praise ! Oft, perfect baron! have I heard of you

Through all the different period of my days : And, as I said, to be your vassal too

I wish, for your great gallantry always.»
Thus reasoning, they continued much to say,
And onwards to the abbey went their way.

XLIX.
And by the way, about the giants dead

Orlando with Morgante reason d : « Be,
For their decease, I pray you, comforted,

And, since it is God's pleasure, pardon me; A thousand wrongs unto the monks they bred,

And our true scripture soundeth openlyGood is rewarded, and chastised the ill, Which the Lord never faileth to fulfil :

L. « Because his love of justice unto all

Is such, he wills his judgment should devour All who have sin, however great or small;

But good be well remembers to restore:
Nor without justice holy could we call

Him, whom I now require you to adore :
All men must make his will their wishes sway,
And quickly and spontaneously obey.

LI. « And here our doctors are of one accord,

Coming on this point to the same couclusionThat in their thoughts who praise in heaven the Lord,

If pily e'er was guilty of intrusion
For their unfortunate relations stored

In hell below, and damnd in great confusion,
Their happiness would be reduced to nought,
And thus unjust the Almiglıty's self be thought.

LII.
« But they in Christ have firmest hope, and all

Which seems to him, to them too must appear
Well done; nor could it otherwise befal;

He wever can in any purpose err :
If sire or mother suffer cudless thrall,

They don't disturb themselves for him or her;
What pleases God to them must joy inspire;-
Such is the observance of the eternal choir.»

LUI. “A word unto the wise,» Morgante said,

« Is wont to be enough, and you shall see How much I crieve about my brethren dead;

And if the will of God seem good to me,
Just, as you tell me, 't is in heaven obey'd-

Ashes to ashes, -merry let us be!
I will cut off the hands from both their trunks,
And carry them unto the holy monks.

LIV.
« So that all persons may be sure and certain

That they are dead, and have vo further fear To wander solitary this desert in,

And that they may perceive my spirit clear By the Lord's grace, who hath withdrawn the curtain

Of darkness, making bis bright realm appear,»
He cut his brethren's hands off at these words,
And left them to the savage beasts and birds.

LV.
Theo to the abbey they went on together,

Where waited them the abbot in great doubt.
The monks, who knew not yet the fact, ran thither

To their superior, all in breathless rout, Saying, with tremor, « Please to tell us whether

You wish to have this person in or out ?n The abbot, looking through upou the giant, Too greatly fear'd, at first, to be compliant.

LVI. Orlando, seeing him thus agitated,

Said quickly, « Abbot, be thou of good cheer; He Chrise believes, as Christian must be rated,

And hath renounced his Macon false;" which liere Morgante with the hands corroborated,

A proof of both the giants' fate quite clear:
Thence, with due thanks, the abbot God adored,
Saying « Thou hast contented me, oh Lord!»

LVII.
He gazed; Morgante's height le calculated,

And more than once contemplated his size;
And then he said, «Oh giant celebrated,

Know, that no more my wonder will arise, How you could tear and ling the trees you late did,

When I behold your form with my own eyes. You now a true and perfect friend will show Yourself to Christ, as once you were a foe.

LXXII. « Take care le don't revenge himself, though dead,

As Nessus did of old beyond all cure;
I don't know if the fact you've heard or read,

But he will make you burst, you may be sure.»
But help him on my back,» Morgante said,

u And you shall see what weight I can endure :
In place, my gentle Roland, of this palfrey,
With all the bells, I'd carry yonder belfry.»

LXXIII.
The abbot said, « The steeple may do well,

But, for the bells, you've broken them, I wot.»
Morgante answerd, « Let them pay in bell

The penalty, who lie dead in yon grot:»
And hoisting up the horse from where he fell,

He said, « Now look if I the gout have got,
Orlando, in the legs or if I have force ;»--
And then he made two gambols with the horse.

LXXIV.
Morgante was like any mountain framed;

So if he did this, 't is no prodigy;
But secretly himself Orlando blamed,

Because he was one of his family;
And, fearing that he might be hurt or maim'd,

Once more he bade him lay his burthen by:
« Put down, nor bear him further the desert in.»
Morgante said, « I'll carry him for certain.»

LXXV.
He did; and slow'd him in some nook away,

And to the abbey then return'd with speed.
Orlando said, «Why longer do we stay?

Morgante, here is nought to do indeed.» The abbot by the hand he took one day,

And said with great respect, lac had agreed
To leave his Reverence; but for this decision
He wish'd to have his pardon and permission.

LXXVI.
The honours they continued to receive

Perhaps exceeded what his merits claim'd :
He said, “I mean, and quickly, to retrieve

The lost days of time past, which may be blamed; Some days ago I should have ask'd your leave,

Kind father, but I really was ashamed, And know not how to show my sentiment, So much I see you with our stay content.

LXXVII. « But in my heart I bear through every clime,

The abbot, abbey, and this solitudeSo much I love you in so short a time;

For me, from heaven reward you with all good The God so true, the eternal Lord sublime!

Whose kingdom at the last hath open stood : Meanwhile we stand expectant of your blessing, And recommend us to your prayers with pressing.»

LXXVIII.
Now when the abbot Count Orlando heard,

His heart grew soft with inner tenderness,
Such fervour in his bosom bred each word;

And, « Cavalier,» he said, « if I have less
Courteous and kind to your great worth appeard,

Than fits me for such gentle blood to express,
I know I've done too little in this case;
But blame our ignorance, and this poor place.

LXXIX.
We can indeed but honour you with masses,

And sermons, thanksgivings, and pater-nosters,
Hot suppers, dinners (fitting other places

In verity much rather than the cloisters); But such a love for you my heart embraces,

For thousand virtues which your bosom fosters, That wheresoe'er you go, I too shall be, And, on the other part, you rest with me.

LXXX. « This may involve a seeming contradiction,

But you, I know, are sage, and feel, and taste, And understand my speech with full conviction.

For your just pious deeds may you be graced
With the Lord's great reward and benediction,

By whom you were directed to this waste:
To his high mercy is our freedom due,
For which we render thanks to him and you.

LXXXI.
«You saved at once our life and soul: such fear

The giants caused us, that the way was lost By which we could pursue a fit career

In search of Jesus and the saintly lost;
And your departure breeds such sorrow here,

That comfortless we all are to our cost;
But months and years you could not stay in sloth,
Nor are you formd to wear our sober cloth;

LXXXII.
« But to bear arms and wield the lance; indeed,

With these as much is done as with this cowl; In proof of which the scripture you may read.

This giant up to heaven may bear his soul
By your compassion; now in peace proceed.

Your state and name I seek not to unroll,
But, if I'm ask'd, this answer shall be given,
That here an angel was sent down from heaven,

LXXXII.
« If you want armour or aught else, go in,

Look o'er the wardrobe, and take what you chuse; And cover with it o'er this giant's skin.»

Orlando answer'd, « If there should lie loose
Some armour, ere our journey we begin,

Which might be turn d to my companion's use,
The gift would be acceptable to me.»
The abbot said to him, «Come in and see.»

LXXXIV.
And in a certain closet, where the wall

Was cover'd with old armonr like a crust,
The abbot said to them, «I give you all.»

Morgante rummaged piece-meal from the dust The whole, which, save one cuirass, was too small,

And that too had the mail inlaid with rust. They wonder'd how it fitted him exactly, Which ne'er had suited others so compactly.

LXXXV. 'T was an immeasurable giant's, who

By the great Milo of Argaute fell Before the abbey many years ago.

The story on the wall was figured well; In the last moment of the abbey's foe,

Who loug had waged a war implacable: Precisely as the war occurr'd they drew him, And there was Milo as he overthrew him.