Next day the two arrived at the bridge.  The sentry descried them approaching, and gave notice to his lord, who thereupon donned his armor and went forth to meet them.  Here, as usual, he called on the advancing warrior to yield his horse and arms an oblation to the tomb.  Bradamante replied, asking by what right he called on the innocent to do penance for his crime.  “Your life and your armor,” she added, “are the fittest offering to her tomb, and I, a woman, the fittest champion to take them.”  With that she couched her spear, spurred her horse, and ran to the encounter.  King Rodomont came on with speed.  The trampling sounded on the bridge like thunder.  It took but a moment to decide the contest.  The golden lance did its office, and that fierce Moor, so renowned in tourney, lay extended on the bridge.  “Who is the loser now?” said Bradamante; but Rodomont, amazed that a woman’s hand should have laid him low, could not or would not answer.  Silent and sad, he raised himself, unbound his helm and mail, and flung them against the tomb; then, sullen and on foot, left the ground; but first gave orders to one of his squires to release all his prisoners.  They had been sent off to Africa.  Besides Florismart, there were Sansonnet and Oliver, who had ridden that way in quest of Orlando, and had both in turn been overthrown in the encounter.

Bradamante after her victory resumed her route, and in due time reached the Christian camp, where she readily learned an explanation of the mystery which had caused her so much anxiety.  Rogero and his fair and brave sister, Marphisa, were too illustrious by their station and exploits not to be the frequent topic of discourse even among their adversaries, and all that Bradamante was anxious to know reached her ear, almost without inquiry.

We now return to Gradasso, who by Rogero’s victory had been made possessor of Durindana.  There now only remained to him to seek the horse of Rinaldo; and the challenge, given and accepted, was yet to be fought with that warrior, for it had been interrupted by the arts of Malagigi.  Gradasso now sought another meeting with Rinaldo, and met with no reluctance on his part.  As the combat was for the possession of Bayard, the knights dismounted and fought on foot.  Long time the battle lasted.  Rinaldo, knowing well the deadly stroke of Durindana, used all his art to parry or avoid its blow.  Gradasso struck with might and main, but wellnigh all his strokes were spent in air, or if they smote they fell obliquely and did little harm.

Thus had they fought long, glancing at one another’s eyes, and seeing naught else, when their attention was arrested perforce by a strange noise.  They turned, and beheld the good Bayard attacked by a monstrous bird.  Perhaps it was a bird, for such it seemed; but when or where such a bird was ever seen I have nowhere read, except in Turpin; and I am inclined to believe that it was not a bird, but a fiend, evoked from underground by Malagigi, and thither sent on purpose to interrupt the fight.  Whether a fiend or a fowl, the monster flew right at Bayard, and clapped his wings in his face.  Thereat the steed broke loose, and ran madly across the plain, pursued by the bird, till Bayard plunged into the wood, and was lost to sight.