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.

And by the way about the giants dead

Orlando with Morgante reasoned: "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 openly,
Good is rewarded, and chastised the ill,
Which the Lord never faileth to fulfill:

"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 he 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.

"And here our doctors are of one accord,

Coming on this point to the same conclusion,That in their thoughts who praise in heaven the Lord, If pity e'er was guilty of intrusion

For their unfortunate relations stored

In hell below, and damned in great confusion,-
Their happiness would be reduced to naught,
And thus unjust the Almighty's self be thought.

"But they in Christ have firmest hope, and all Which seems to him, to them too must appear Well done; nor could it otherwise befall:

He never can in any purpose err.

If sire or mother suffer endless 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."

"A word unto the wise," Morgante said,
"Is wont to be enough, and you shall see
How much I grieve about my brethren dead;
And if the will of God seem good to me,

Just, as you tell me, 'tis in heaven obeyed

merry let us be!

I will cut off the hands from both their trunks,
And carry them unto the holy monks.

"So that all persons may be sure and certain That they are dead, and have no 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And that they may perceive my spirit clear By the Lord's grace, who hath withdrawn the curtain Of darkness, making his bright realm appear.” He cut his brethren's hands off at these words, And left them to the savage beasts and birds.

Then 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?" The abbot, looking through upon the giant, Too greatly feared, at first, to be compliant.

Orlando seeing him thus agitated,

Said quickly, "Abbot, be thou of good cheer; He Christ believes, as Christian must be rated, And hath renounced his Macon false;" which here 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!"

He gazed; Morgante's height he 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 fling 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.

"And one of our apostles, Saul once named, Long persecuted sore the faith of Christ,

Till, one day, by the Spirit being inflamed,

'Why dost thou persecute me thus ?' said Christ;

And then from his offense he was reclaimed,

And went forever after preaching Christ,
And of the faith became a trump, whose sounding
O'er the whole earth is echoing and rebounding.

"So, my Morgante, you may do likewise;

He who repents—thus writes the Evangelist— Occasions more rejoicing in the skies

Than ninety-nine of the celestial list.

You may be sure, should each desire arise

With just zeal for the Lord, that you'll exist Among the happy saints for evermore;

But you were lost and damned to hell before!"

And thus great honor to Morgante paid

The abbot: many days they did repose. One day, as with Orlando they both strayed,

And sauntered here and there, where'er they chose, The abbot showed a chamber, where arrayed

Much armor was, and hung up certain bows;

And one of these Morgante for a whim

Girt on, though useless, he believed, to him.

There being a want of water in the place,
Orlando, like a worthy brother, said,
"Morgante, I could wish you in this case

To go for water." "You shall be obeyed
In all commands," was the reply, "straightways."
Upon his shoulder a great tub he laid,

And went out on his way unto a fountain,

Where he was wont to drink below the mountain.

Arrived there, a prodigious noise he hears,
Which suddenly along the forest spread;
Whereat from out his quiver he prepares

An arrow for his bow, and lifts his head;
And lo! a monstrous herd of swine appears,
And onward rushes with tempestuous tread,
And to the fountain's brink precisely pours;
So that the giant's joined by all the boars.

Morgante at a venture shot an arrow,

Which pierced a pig precisely in the ear,
And passed unto the other side quite thorough;
So that the boar, defunct, lay tripped up near.

Another, to revenge his fellow-farrow,
Against the giant rushed in fierce career,
And reached the passage with so swift a foot,
Morgante was not now in time to shoot.

Perceiving that the pig was on him close,
He gave him such a punch upon the head
As floored him so that he no more arose,

Smashing the very bone; and he fell dead
Next to the other. Having seen such blows,
The other pigs along the valley fled;
Morgante on his neck the bucket took,

Full from the spring, which neither swerved nor shook.

The tun was on one shoulder, and there were
The hogs on t'other, and he brushed apace
On to the abbey, though by no means near,
Nor spilt one drop of water in his race.
Orlando, seeing him so soon appear

With the dead boars, and with that brimful vase,
Marveled to see his strength so very great;

So did the abbot, and set wide the gate.

The monks, who saw the water fresh and good,
Rejoiced, but much more to perceive the pork; -

All animals are glad at sight of food:

They lay their breviaries to sleep, and work With greedy pleasure, and in such a mood,

That the flesh needs no salt beneath their fork.

Of rankness and of rot there is no fear,
For all the fasts are now left in arrear.

As though they wished to burst at once, they ate;
And gorged so that, as if the bones had been

In water, sorely grieved the dog and cat,
Perceiving that they all were picked too clean.

The abbot, who to all did honor great,

A few days after this convivial scene,

Gave to Morgante a fine horse, well trained,
Which he long time had for himself maintained.

The horse Morgante to a meadow led,

To gallop, and to put him to the proof, Thinking that he a back of iron had,

Or to skim eggs unbroke was light enough;

But the horse, sinking with the pain, fell dead,
And burst, while cold on earth lay head and hoof.
Morgante said, "Get up, thou sulky cur!"
And still continued pricking with the spur.

But finally he thought fit to dismount,

And said, "I am as light as any feather,

And he has burst;-to this what say you, count?" Orlando answered, "Like a ship's mast rather You seem to me, and with the truck for front:

Let him go; Fortune wills that we together Should march, but you on foot Morgante still." To which the giant answered, "So I will.

"When there shall be occasion, you will see How I approve my courage in the fight." Orlando said, "I really think you'll be,

If it should prove God's will, a goodly knight; Nor will you napping there discover me.

But never mind your horse, though out of sight 'Twere best to carry him into some wood, If but the means or way I understood."

The giant said, "Then carry him I will,
Since that to carry me he was so slack-
To render, as the gods do, good for ill;
But lend a hand to place him on my back."
Orlando answered, "If my counsel still

May weigh, Morgante, do not undertake To lift or carry this dead courser, who, have done to him, will do to you.

As you

"Take care he 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, "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."

The abbot said, "The steeple may do well,
But, for the bells, you've broken them, I wot."
Morgante answered, "Let them pay in hell

The penalty who lie dead in yon grot; "