We might well call by that name this abode, where the hours flew by, without account, in ever-new delights.  The bare idea of satiety, want, and, above all, of age, never entered the minds of the inhabitants.  They experienced no sensations except those of luxury and gayety; the cup of happiness seemed for them ever-flowing and exhaustless.  The two young damsels to whom Rogero owed his deliverance from the hobgoblins conducted him to the apartment of their mistress.  The beautiful Alcina advanced, and greeted him with an air at once dignified and courteous.  All her court surrounded the paladin, and rendered him the most flattering attentions.  The castle was less admirable for its magnificence than for the charms of those who inhabited it.  They were of either sex, well matched in beauty, youth, and grace; but among this charming group the brilliant Alcina shone, as the sun outshines the stars.  The young warrior was fascinated.  All that he had heard from the myrtle-tree appeared to him but a vile calumny.  How could he suspect that falsehood and treason veiled themselves under smiles and the ingenuous air of truth?  He doubted not that Astolpho had deserved his fate, and perhaps a punishment more severe; he regarded all his stories as dictated by a disappointed spirit, and a thirst for revenge.  But we must not condemn Rogero too harshly, for he was the victim of magic power.

They seated themselves at table, and immediately harmonious lyres and harps waked the air with the most ravishing notes.  The charms of poetry were added in entertaining recitals; the magnificence of the feast would have done credit to a royal board.  The traitress forgot nothing which might charm the paladin, and attach him to the spot, meaning, when she should grow tired of him, to metamorphose him as she had done others.  In the same manner passed each succeeding day.  Games of pleasant exercise, the chase, the dance, or rural sports, made the hours pass quickly; while they gave zest to the refreshment of the bath, or sleep.

Thus Rogero led a life of ease and luxury, while Charlemagne and Agramant were struggling for empire.  But I cannot linger with him while the amiable and courageous Bradamante is night and day directing her uncertain steps to every spot where the slightest chance invites her, in the hope of recovering Rogero.

I will therefore say that, having sought him in vain in fields and in cities, she knew not whither next to direct her steps.  She did not apprehend the death of Rogero.  The fall of such a hero would have reechoed from the Hydaspes to the farthest river of the West; but, not knowing whether he was on the earth or in the air, she concluded, as a last resource, to return to the cavern which contained the tomb of Merlin, to ask of him some sure direction to the object of her search.