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accepted the terms, and proposed that they should at once repair to the
abbey of Vallombrosa, whose towers were visible at no great distance.
Thither they turned their horses' heads, and we will leave them to find
their way without our company.
I know not if my readers recollect that at the moment when Rogero had
just delivered Angelica from the voracious Orc that scornful beauty
placed her ring in her mouth, and vanished out of sight. At the same
time the Hippogriff shook off his bridle, soared away, and flew to
rejoin his former master, very naturally returning to his accustomed
stable. Here Astolpho found him, to his very great delight. He knew the
animal's powers, having seen Rogero ride him, and he longed to fly
abroad over all the earth, and see various nations and peoples from his
airy course. He had heard Logestilla's directions how to guide the
animal, and saw her fit a bridle to his head. He therefore was able,
Having landed in France, and traversed many provinces on his way to the
army, he one day, in crossing a forest, arrived beside a fountain, and
alighted to drink. While he stooped at the fountain a young rustic
sprang from the copse, mounted Rabican, and rode away. It was a new
trick of the enchanter Atlantes. Astolpho, hearing the noise, turned
his head just in time to see his loss; and, starting up, pursued the
thief, who, on his part, did not press the horse to his full speed, but
just kept in sight of his pursuer till they both issued from the
forest; and then Rabican and his rider took shelter in a castle which
stood near. Astolpho followed, and penetrated without difficulty within
the court-yard of the castle, where he looked around for the rider and
his horse, but could see no trace of either, nor any person of whom he
could make inquiry. Suspecting that enchantment was employed to
embarrass him, he bethought him of his book, and on consulting it
discovered that his suspicions were well founded. He also learned what
Orlando. Following the guide of chance, the paladin found himself at
the close of day in a forest, and stopped at the foot of a mountain.
Surprised to discern a light which came from a cleft in the rock, he
approached, guided by the ray, and discovered a narrow passage in the
mountain-side, which led into a deep grotto.
Orlando fastened his horse, and then, putting aside the bushes that
resisted his passage, stepped down from rock to rock till he reached a
sort of cavern. Entering it, he perceived a lady, young and handsome,
as well as he could discover through the signs of distress which
agitated her countenance. Her only companion was an old woman, who
seemed to be regarded by her young partner with terror and indignation.
The courteous paladin saluted the women respectfully, and begged to
know by whose barbarity they had been subjected to such imprisonment.
into a battalion, and retreated in tolerable order to his camp. That
camp was well fortified by intrenchments and a broad ditch. Thither the
fugitives hastened, and by degrees all that remained of the Moorish
army was brought together there.
The Emperor might perhaps that night have crushed his enemy entirely;
but not thinking it prudent to expose his troops, fatigued as they
were, to an attack upon a camp so well fortified, he contented himself
with encompassing the enemy with his troops, prepared to make a regular
siege. During the night the Moors had time to see the extent of their
loss. Their tents resounded with lamentations. This warrior had to
mourn a brother, that a friend; many suffered with grievous wounds, all
trembled at the fate in store for them.
There were two young Moors, both of humble rank, who gave proof at that
The younger lady replied, in a voice often broken with sobs:
"Though I know well that my recital will subject me to worse treatment
by the barbarous man who keeps me here, to whom this woman will not
fail to report it, yet I will not hide from you the facts. Ah! why
should I fear his rage? If he should take my life, I know not what
better boon than death I can ask.
"My name is Isabella. I am the daughter of the king of Galicia, or
rather I should say misfortune and grief are my parents. Young, rich,
modest, and of tranquil temper, all things appeared to combine to
render my lot happy. Alas! I see myself to-day poor, humbled,
miserable, and destined perhaps to yet further afflictions. It is a
year since, my father having given notice that he would open the lists
for a tournament at Bayonne, a great number of chevaliers from all
