Rogero, also seeking his horse in the medley, came where two warriors were engaged in mortal combat.  Though he knew not who they were, he could distinguish that one was a paynim and the other a Christian; and moved by the spirit of courtesy he approached them and exclaimed, “Let him of the two who worships Christ pause, and hear what I have to say.  The army of Charles is routed and in flight, so that if he wishes to follow his leader he has no time for delay.”  The Christian knight, who was none other than Bradamante, a female warrior, in prowess equal to the best of knights, was thunderstruck with the tidings, and would gladly leave the contest undecided, and retire from the field; but Rodomont, her antagonist, would by no means consent.  Rogero, indignant at his discourtesy, insisted upon her departure, while he took up her quarrel with Rodomont.

The combat, obstinately maintained on both sides, was interrupted by the return of Bradamante.  Finding herself unable to overtake the fugitives, and reluctant to leave to another the burden and risk of a contest which belonged to herself, she had returned to reclaim the combat.  She arrived, however, when her champion had dealt his enemy such a blow as obliged him to drop both his sword and bridle.  Rogero, disdaining to profit by his adversary’s defenceless situation, sat apart upon his horse, while that of Rodomont bore his rider, stunned and stupefied, about the field.

Bradamante approached Rogero, conceiving a yet higher opinion of his valor on beholding such an instance of forbearance.  She addressed him, excusing herself for leaving him exposed to an enemy from his interference in her cause; pleading her duty to her sovereign as the motive.  While she spoke Rodomont, recovered from his confusion, rode up to them.  His bearing was, however, changed; and he disclaimed all thoughts of further contest with one who, he said, “had already conquered him by his courtesy.”  So saying, he quitted his antagonist, picked up his sword, and spurred out of sight.

Bradamante was now again desirous of retiring from the field, and Rogero insisted on accompanying her, though yet unaware of her sex.

As they pursued their way, she inquired the name and quality of her new associate; and Rogero informed her of his nation and family.  He told her that Astyanax, the son of Hector of Troy, established the kingdom of Messina in Sicily.  From him were derived two branches, which gave origin to two families of renown.  From one sprang the royal race of Pepin and Charlemagne, and from the other, that of Reggio, in Italy.  “From that of Reggio am I derived,” he continued.  “My mother, driven from her home by the chance of war, died in giving me life, and I was taken in charge by a sage enchanter, who trained me to feats of arms amidst the dangers of the desert and the chase.”

Having thus ended his tale, Rogero entreated a similar return of courtesy from his companion, who replied, without disguise, that she was of the race of Clermont, and sister to Rinaldo, whose fame was perhaps known to him.  Rogero, much moved by this intelligence, entreated her to take off her helmet, and at the discovery of her face remained transported with delight.