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

As though they wish'd 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 pick'd too clean.

The abbot, who to all did honour great,

Gave to Morgante a fine horse, well train'd,
A few days after this convivial scene,
Which he long time had for himself maintain'd.