Morgante was like any mountain framed; So if he did this 'tis no prodigy; But secretly himself Orlando blamed, Because he was one of his family; And fearing that he might be hurt or maimed, Once more he bade him lay his burden by: "Put down, nor bear him further the desert in." Morgante said, "I'll carry him for certain." LXXV. He did; and stowed him in some nook away, And to the abbey then returned 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, he had agreed To leave his reverence; but for this decision He wished to have his pardon and permission. LXXVI. The honours they continued to receive Perhaps exceeded what his merits claimed: He said, "I mean, and quickly, to retrieve The lost days of time past, which may be blamed; Some days ago I should have asked 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 solitude-- So 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. Meantime 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 appeared, Than fits me for such gentle blood to express, I know I have 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.