XXI.

The monks could pass the convent gate no more, Nor leave their cells for water or for wood; Orlando knock'd, but none would ope, before Unto the prior it at length seem'd good; Enter'd, he said that he was taught to adore

Him who was born of Mary's holiest blood, And was baptized a Christian; and then show'd How to the abbey he had found his road.

XXII.

Said the abbot, "You are welcome; what is mine We give you freely, since that you believe With us in Mary Mother's Son divine;

And that you may not, cavalier, conceive The cause of our delay to let you in

To be rusticity, you shall receive

The reason why our gate was barr'd to you:
Thus those who in suspicion live must do.

XXIII.

"When hither to inhabit first we came

These mountains, albeit that they are obscure, As you perceive, yet without fear or blame They seem'd to promise an asylum sure: From savage brutes alone, too fierce to tame, 'Twas fit our quiet dwelling to secure;

But now, if here we'd stay, we needs must guard Against domestic beasts with watch and ward.

XXIV.

"These make us stand, in fact, upon the watch,

For late there have appear'd three giants rough; What nation or what kingdom bore the batch

I know not, but they are all of savage stuff; When force and malice with some genius match, You know, they can do all-we are not enough: And these so much our orisons derange,

I know not what to do, till matters change.

XXV.

"Our ancient fathers living the desert in,
For just and holy works were duly fed;
Think, not they lived on locusts sole, 'tis certain
That manna was rain'd down from heaven instead;

But here 'tis fit we keep on the alert in

[bread,

Our bounds, or taste the stones shower'd down for From off yon mountain daily raining faster, And flung by Passamont and Alabaster.

XXVI.

"The third, Morgante, savagest by far; he
Plucks up pines, beeches, poplar-trees, and oaks,
And flings them, our community to bury,
And all that I can do but more provokes."
While thus they parley in the cemetry,

A stone from one of their gigantic strokes,
Which nearly crush'd Rondell, came tumbling over,
So that he took a long leap under cover.

XXVII.

"For God sake, cavalier, come in with speed,
The manna's falling now," the abbot cried:
"This fellow does not wish my horse should feed,
Dear abbot," Roland unto him replied,
Of restiveness he'd cure him had he need;

"That stone seems with good-will and aim applied,"

The holy father said, "I don't deceive;

They'll one day fling the mountain, I believe."

XXVIII.

Orlando bade them take care of Rondello,
And also made a breakfast of his own:
"Abbot," he said, "I want to find that fellow
Who flung at my good horse yon corner-stone."
Said the abbot," Let not my advice seem shallow,
As to a brother dear I speak alone;

I would dissuade you, baron, from this strife,
As knowing sure that you will lose your life.

XXIX.

That Passamont has in his hand three dartsSuch slings, clubs, ballast-stones, that yield you must; You know that giants have much stouter hearts Than us, with reason, in proportion just; If go you will, guard well against their arts, For these are very barbarous and robust." Orlando answer'd, "This I'll see, be sure, And walk the wild on foot to be secure."

The abbot sign'd the great cross on his front,
"Then go you with God's benison and mine:"
Orlando, after he had scaled the mount,
As the abbot had directed, kept the line
Right to the usual haunt of Passamont;
Who, seeing him alone in this design,

T

Survey'd him fore and aft with eyes observant,
Then asked him, "If 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 footboy in your train;

You with his monks so oft have broke the peace

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

XXXII.

And being return'd to where Orlando stood,
Who had not moved him from the spot, and swinging
The cord, he hurl'd a stone with strength so rude,
As show'd a sample of his skill in slinging;
It roll'd on Count Orlando's helmet good

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

XXXIII.

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 thouʼrt too slow
To fly my vengeance-currish renegade!
"Twas 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 twain was what he schem❜d: Cortana clave the skull like a true brand,

And Pagan Passamont died unredeem'd. Yet harsh and haughty, as he lay he 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 Lord! am ever bound.
I know my life was saved by thee from heaven,
Since by the giant I was fairly down'd.
All things 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 can

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 hin, loud 'gan say,

"How think'st thou, glutton, such a stone to throw?"

When Alabaster heard his deep voice ring,

He suddenly betook him to his sling,

XXXVIII.

And hurl❜d a fragment of a size so large,
That if it had in fact fulfill'd its mission,
And Roland not avail'd him of his targe,

There would have been no need of a physician.