If u can't view pic,
click here
horseback seeking a strayed heifer, she begged him to come to her
assistance, and endeavor to remove the wounded man to a more secure
asylum.
Angelica, having prepared the plants by bruising them between two
stones, laid them with her fair hand on Medoro's wound. The remedy soon
restored in some degree the strength of the wounded man, who, before he
would quit the spot, made them cover with earth and turf the bodies of
his friend and of the prince. Then surrendering himself to the pity of
his deliverers, he allowed them to place him on the horse of the
shepherd, and conduct him to his cottage. It was a pleasant farmhouse
on the borders of the wood, bearing marks of comfort and competency.
There the shepherd lived with his wife and children. There Angelica
tended Medoro, and there, by the devoted care of the beautiful queen,
his sad wound closed over, and he recovered his perfect health.
troop, and, observing that they dispersed themselves over the plain as
if in search of booty, told Medoro to lay down the body, and let each
save himself by flight. He dropped his part, thinking that Medoro would
do the same; but the good youth loved his prince too well to abandon
him, and continued to carry his load singly as well as he might, while
Cloridan made his escape. Near by there was a part of the wood tufted
as if nothing but wild animals had ever penetrated it. The unfortunate
youth, loaded with the weight of his dead master, plunged into its
recesses.
Cloridan, when he perceived that he had evaded his foes, discovered
that Medoro was not with him. "Ah!" exclaimed he, "how could I, dear
Medoro, so forget myself as to consult my own safety without heeding
yours?" So saying, he retraced the tangled passes of the wood toward
the place from whence he had fled. As he approached he heard the noise
Cloridan, who saw Medoro fall, could contain himself no longer. He
rushed from his concealment, threw down his bow, and, sword in hand,
seemed only desirous of vengeance for Medoro, and to die with him. In a
moment, pierced through and through with many wounds, he exerts the
last remnant of his strength in dragging himself to Medoro, to die
embracing him. The cavaliers left them thus to rejoin Zerbino, whose
rage against the murderer of Medoro had drawn him away from the spot.
Cloridan died; and Medoro, bleeding copiously, was drawing near his end
when help arrived.
A young maiden approached the fallen knights at this critical moment.
Her dress was that of a peasant-girl, but her air was noble, and her
beauty celestial; sweetness and goodness reigned in her lovely
countenance. It was no other than Angelica, the Princess of Cathay.
had continued their game a little longer; but they never reckoned a
throw like this among their chances. Cloridan next came to the unlucky
Grillon, whose head lay softly on his pillow. He dreamed probably of
the feast from which he had but just retired; for when Cloridan cut off
his head wine flowed forth with the blood.
The two young Moors might have penetrated even to the tent of
Charlemagne; but knowing that the paladins encamped around him kept
watch by turns, and judging that it was impossible they should all be
asleep, they were afraid to go too near. They might also have obtained
rich booty; but, intent only on their object, they crossed the camp,
and arrived at length at the bloody field, where bucklers, lances, and
swords lay scattered in the midst of corpses of poor and rich, common
soldier and prince, horses and pools of blood. This terrible scene of
carnage would have destroyed all hope of finding what they were in
Cloridan, who saw Medoro fall, could contain himself no longer. He
rushed from his concealment, threw down his bow, and, sword in hand,
seemed only desirous of vengeance for Medoro, and to die with him. In a
moment, pierced through and through with many wounds, he exerts the
last remnant of his strength in dragging himself to Medoro, to die
embracing him. The cavaliers left them thus to rejoin Zerbino, whose
rage against the murderer of Medoro had drawn him away from the spot.
Cloridan died; and Medoro, bleeding copiously, was drawing near his end
when help arrived.
A young maiden approached the fallen knights at this critical moment.
Her dress was that of a peasant-girl, but her air was noble, and her
beauty celestial; sweetness and goodness reigned in her lovely
countenance. It was no other than Angelica, the Princess of Cathay.
