the wars; and in those and in the depths of the forest she seemed a wild creature to mankind, and a man to the wildest creature.  She had now come out of Persia to wreak her displeasure on the Christians, who had already felt the sharpness of her sword; and as she arrived near this assembled multitude, death was the first thing that met her eyes, but in a shape so perplexing, that she looked narrowly to discern what it was, and then spurred her horse towards the scene of action.  The crowd gave way as she approached, and she halted as she entered the circle round the stake, and sat gazing on the youth and maiden.  She wondered to see the male victim lamenting, while the female was mute.  But indeed she saw that he was weeping not out of grief but pity; or at least, not out of grief for himself; and as to the maiden, she observed her to be so wrapt up in the contemplation of the heavens at which she was gazing, that she appeared to have already taken leave of earth.

Pity touched the heart of the Amazon, and the tears came into her eyes.  She felt sorry for both the victims, but chiefly for the one that said nothing.  She turned to a white-headed man beside her, and said, “What is this?  Who are these two persons, whom crime, or their ill fortune, has brought hither?”

The man answered her briefly, but to the purpose; and she discerned at once that both must be innocent.  She therefore determined to save them.  She dismounted, and set the example of putting a stop to the flames, and then said to the officers, “Let nobody continue this work till I have spoken to the king.  Rest assured he will hold you guiltless of the delay.”  The officers obeyed, being struck with her air of confidence and authority; and she went straight towards the king, who had heard of her arrival, and who was coming to bid her welcome.

“I am Clorinda,” she said.  “Thou knowest me?  Then thou knowest, sir, one who is desirous to defend the good faith and the king of Jerusalem.  I am ready for any duty that may be assigned me.  I fear not the greatest, nor do I disdain the least.  Open field or walled city, no post will come amiss to the king’s servant.”

“Illustrious maiden,” answered the king, “who knoweth not Clorinda?  What region is there so distant from Asia, or so far away out of the paths of the sun, to which the sound of thy achievements has not arrived?  Joined by thee and by thy sword I fear nothing.  Godfrey, methinks, is too slow to attack me.  Dost thou ask to which post thou shalt be appointed?  To the greatest.  None else becomes thee.  Thou art lady and mistress of the war.”