skirmish rose, but not so far but that he could see
distinctly, from an elevated position which he held,
how the changed battle was all the work of one man,
and could not choose but admire the bravery and prowess
with which it was done. He knew by the blazonry
displayed that the champion was not of the Bulgarian
army, though he furnished aid to them. Although
he suffered by his valor, the prince could not wish
him ill, for his admiration surpassed his resentment.
By this time the Greeks had regained the river, and
crossing it by fording or swimming, some made their
escape, leaving many more prisoners in the hands of
the Bulgarians. Rogero, learning from some of
the captives that Leo was at a point some distance
down the river, rode thither with a view to meet him,
but arrived not before the Greek prince had retired
beyond the stream, and broken up the bridge. Day
was spent, and Rogero, wearied, looked round for a
shelter for the night. He found it in a cottage,
where he soon yielded himself to repose. It so
happened, a knight who had narrowly escaped Rogero’s
sword in the late battle also found shelter in the
same cottage, and, recognizing the armor of the unknown
knight, easily found means of securing him as he slept,
and next morning carried him in chains and delivered
him to the Emperor. By him he was in turn delivered
to his sister Theodora, mother of the young knight,
the first victim of Rogero’s spear. By
her he was cast into a dungeon, till her ingenuity
could devise a death sufficiently painful to satiate
her revenge.
Bradamante, meanwhile, to escape her father’s
and mother’s importunity, had begged a boon
of Charlemagne, which the monarch pledged his royal
word to grant; it was that she should not be compelled
to marry any one unless he should first vanquish her
in single combat. The Emperor therefore proclaimed
a tournament in these words: “He that would
wed Duke Aymon’s daughter must contend with
the sword against that dame, from the sun’s rise
to his setting; and if, in that time, he is not overcome
the lady shall be his.”
Duke Aymon and the Lady Beatrice, though much incensed
at the course things had taken, brought their daughter
to court, to await the day appointed for the tournament.
Bradamante, not finding there him whom her heart required,
distressed herself with doubts what could be the cause
of his absence. Of all fancies, the most painful
one was that he had gone away to learn to forget her,
knowing her father’s and her mother’s opposition
to their union, and despairing to contend against
them. But oh, how much worse would be the maiden’s
woe, if it were known to her what her betrothed was
then enduring!