“He has this instant,” answered the king, “overthrown me, and galloped away.  Who is he?”

“It is no he,” replied the messenger.  “The rider who has overthrown you, and thus taken possession of whatever glory you may have acquired, is a damsel; and she is still more beautiful than brave.  Bradalnante is her illustrious name.”  And with these words the horseman set spurs to his horse, and left the Saracen more miserable than before.  He mounted Angelica’s horse without a word, his own having been disabled; and so, taking her up behind him, proceeded on the road in continued silence.[5]

They had just gone a couple of miles, when they again heard a noise, as of some powerful body in haste; and in a little while, a horse without a rider came rushing towards them, in golden trappings.  It was Rinaldo’s horse, Bayardo.[6] The Circassian, dismounting, thought to seize it, but was welcomed with a curvet, which made him beware how he hazarded something worse.  The horse then went straight to Angelica in a way as caressing as a dog; for he remembered how she fed him in Albracca at the time when she was in love with his ungracious master:  and the beauty recollected Bayardo with equal pleasure, for she had need of him.  Sacripant, however, watched his opportunity, and mounted the horse; so that now the two companions had each a separate steed.  They were about to proceed more at their ease, when again a great noise was heard, and Rinaldo himself was seen coming after them on foot, threatening the Saracen with furious gestures, for he saw that he had got his horse; and he recognised, above all, in a rage of jealousy, the lovely face beside him.  Angelica in vain implored the Circassian to fly with her.  He asked if she had forgotten the wars of Albracca, and all which he had done to serve her, that thus she supposed him afraid of another battle.

Sacripant endeavoured to push Bayardo against Rinaldo; but the horse refusing to fight his master, he dismounted, and the two rivals encountered each other with their swords.  At first they went through the whole sword-exercise to no effect; but Rinaldo, tired of the delay, raised the terrible Fusberta,[7] and at one blow cut through the other’s twofold buckler of bone and steel, and benumbed his arm.  Angelica turned as pale as a criminal going to execution; and, without farther waiting, galloped off through the forest, looking round every instant to see if Rinaldo was upon her.

She had not gone far when she met an old man who seemed to be a hermit, but was in reality a magician, coming along upon an ass.  He was of venerable aspect, and seemed worn out with age and mortifications; yet, when he beheld the exquisite face before him, and heard the lady explain how it was she needed his assistance, even he, old as he really was, began to fancy himself a lover, and determined to use his art for the purpose of keeping his two rivals at a distance.  Taking out a book, and reading a little in it, there issued