LXXX.

Tanto ch' a questo par contraddizione;
Ma so che tu se' savio, e 'ntendi e gusti,
E intendi il mio parlar per discrizione;
De' beneficj tuoi pietosi e giusti
Renda il Signore a te munerazione,
Da cui mandato in queste selve fusti;
Per le virtù del qual liberi siamo,
E grazie a lui e a te noi ne rendiamo.

LXXXI.

Tu ci hai salvato l' anima e la vita:
Tanta perturbazion già que' giganti
Ci detton, che la strada era smarrita
Da ritrovar Gesù con gli altri santi:
Però troppo ci duol la tua partita,
E sconsolati restiam tutti quanti ;
Nè ritener possiamti i mesi e gli anni:
Che tu non se' da vestir questi panni,

LXXXII.

Ma da portar la lancia e l' armadura :
E puossi meritar con essa, come
Con questa cappa; e leggi la scrittura:
Questo gigante al ciel drizzò le some
Per tua virtù; va in pace a tua ventura
Chi tu ti sia, ch' io non ricerco il nome;
Ma dirò sempre, s' io son domandato,
Ch' un angiol qui da Dio fussi mandato.

LXXXIII.

Se c'è armadura o cosa che tu voglia, Vattene in zambra e pigliane tu stessi, E cuopri a questo gigante le scoglia. Rispose Orlando: se armadura avessi Prima che noi uscissim de la soglia, Che questo mio compagno difendessi: Questo accetto io, e sarammi piacere. Disse l'abate: venite a vedere.

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 host; And your departure breeds such sorrow here, That comfortless we all are to our cost; But months and years you would not stay in sloth, Nor are you form'd 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 Scriptures 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.

LXXXIII.

"If you want armour or aught else, go in,

Look o'er the wardrobe, and take what you choose,

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.

E in certa cameretta entrati sono,
Che d' armadure vecchie era copiosa:
Dice l'abate: tutte ve le dono.
Morgante va rovistando ogni cosa;
Ma solo un certo sbergo gli fu buono,
Ch' avea tutta la maglia rugginosa :
Maravigliossi che lo cuopra appunto :
Che mai più gnun forse glien' era aggiunto.

LXXXV.

Questo fu d' un gigante smisurata,
Ch' a la badía fu morto per antico
Dal gran Milon d' Angrante, ch' arrivato ;
V'era, s'appunto questa istoria dico;
Ed era ne le mura istoriato,

Come e' fu morto questo gran nimico
Che fece a la badía già lunga guerra:
E Milon v' è com' e' l' abbatte in terra.

LXXXVI.

Veggendo questa istoria il conte Orlando,
Fra suo cor disse: o Dio, che sai sol tutto,
Come venne Milon qui capitando,
Che ha questo gigante qui distrutto?
E lesse certe lettre lacrimando,
Che non potè tenir più il viso asciutto,
Com' io dirò ne la seguente istoria;
Di mal vi guardi il Re de l' alta gloria.

LXXXIV.

And in a certain closet, where the wall

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

Morgante rummaged piecemeal 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 has suited others so compactly.

LXXXV.

'Twas an immeasurable giant's, who By the great Milo of Agrante 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 long had waged a war implacable : Precisely as the war occurr'd they drew him, And there was Milo as he overthrew him.

LXXXVI.

Seeing this history, Count Orlando said

In his own heart, "Oh God, who in the sky Know'st all things! how was Milo hither led? Who caused the giant in this place to die?" And certain letters, weeping, then he read,

So that he could not keep his visage dry,As I will tell in the ensuing story.

From evil keep you the high King of glory!

NOTE TO THE MORGANTE MAGGIORE.

1.-Page 60, line 3.

Gli dette in su la testa un gran punzone

"GLI dette in su la testa un gran punzone." It is strange that Pulci should have literally anticipated the technical terms of my old friend and master, Jackson, and the art which he has carried to its highest pitch. "A punch on the head," or "a punch in the head,"—" un punzone in su la testa,"-is the exact and frequent phrase of our best pugilists, who little dream that they are talking the purest Tuscan.