When Rinaldo woke he looked round for his horse, and, finding him not, he groaned, and said, “O unlucky hour that I was born! how fortune persecutes me!” So desperate was he that he took off his armor and his spurs, saying, “What need have I of these, since Bayard is lost?” While he stood thus lamenting, a man came from the thicket, seemingly bent with age.  He had a long beard hanging over his breast, and eyebrows that almost covered his eyes.  He bade Rinaldo good day.  Rinaldo thanked him, and said, “A good day I have hardly had since I was born.”  Then said the old man, “Signor Rinaldo, you must not despair, for God will make all things turn to the best.”  Rinaldo answered, “My trouble is too heavy for me to hope relief.  The king has taken my brothers, and means to put them to death.  I thought to rescue them by means of my horse Bayard, but while I slept some thief has stolen him.”  The old man replied, “I will remember you and your brothers in my prayers.  I am a poor man, have you not something to give me?” Rinaldo said, “I have nothing to give,” but then he recollected his spurs.  He gave them to the beggar, and said, “Here, take my spurs.  They are the first present my mother gave me when my father, Count Aymon, dubbed me knight.  They ought to bring you ten pounds.”

The old man took the spurs, and put them into his sack, and said, “Noble sir, have you nothing else you can give me?” Rinaldo replied, “Are you making sport of me?  I tell you truly if it were not for shame to beat one so helpless, I would teach you better manners.”  The old man said, “Of a truth, sir, if you did so you would do a great sin.  If all had beaten me of whom I have begged I should have been killed long ago, for I ask alms in churches and convents, and wherever I can.”  “You say true,” replied Rinaldo, “if you did not ask, none would relieve you.”  The old man said, “True, noble sir, therefore I pray if you have anything more to spare, give it me.”  Rinaldo gave him his mantle, and said, “Take it, pilgrim.  I give it you for the love of Christ, that God would save my brothers from a shameful death, and help me to escape out of King Charles’s power.”

The pilgrim took the mantle, folded it up, and put it into his bag.  Then a third time he said to Rinaldo, “Sir, have you nothing left to give me that I may remember you in my prayers?” “Wretch!” exclaimed Rinaldo, “do you make me your sport?” and he drew his sword, and struck at him; but the old man warded off the blow with his staff, and said, “Rinaldo, would you slay your cousin, Malagigi?” When Rinaldo heard that he stayed his hand, and gazed doubtingly on the old man, who now threw aside his disguise, and appeared to be indeed Malagigi.  “Dear cousin,” said Rinaldo, “pray forgive me.  I did not know you.  Next to God, my trust is in you.  Help my brothers to escape out of prison, I entreat you.  I have lost my horse, and therefore cannot render them any assistance.”  Malagigi answered, “Cousin Rinaldo, I will enable you to recover your horse.  Meanwhile, you must do as I say.”