 6. The Invasion of France, Part I. King of Africa convoked the kings, his vassals, to deliberate in counsel. He reminded them of the injuries he had sustained from France, that his father had fallen in battle with Charlemagne, and that his early years had hitherto not allowed him to wipe out the stain of former defeats. He now proposed to them to carry war into France. Sobrino, his wisest counselor, opposed the project, representing the rashness of it, but wrote about the young and fiery king of Algiers, denounced Sobrino's counsel as base and cowardly, declaring himself impatient for the enterprise. The king of the Garamonts, venerable for his age and renowned for his prophetic lore, interposed, and assured the king that such an attempt would be sure to fail, unless he could first get on his side a youth marked out by destiny as the fitting compere of the most puissant knights of France, the young Rogero, descended in direct line from Hector of Troy. This prince was now a dweller upon the mountain Carina, where Atlantis, his foster father, a powerful magician, kept him in retirement, having discovered by his art that his pupil would be lost to him if allowed to mingle with the world. To break the spells of Atlantis and draw Rogero from his retirement, one only means was to be found. It was a ring possessed by Angelica, Princess of Cathay, which was a talisman against all enchantments. If this ring could be procured all would go well, without it the enterprise was desperate. Rotamount treated this declaration of the old prophet with scorn, and it would probably have been held of little weight by the counsel, had not the aged king, oppressed by the weight of his years, expired in the very act of reaffirming his prediction. This made so deep an impression on the counsel that it was unanimously resolved to postpone the war, until an effort should be made to win Rogero to the camp. King Agramad thereupon proclaimed that the whole sovereignty of a kingdom should be the reward of whoever should succeed in obtaining the ring of Angelica. Brunello the Dwarf, the subtlest thief in all Africa, undertook to procure it. In prosecution of this design he made the best of his way to Angelica's kingdom, and arrived beneath the walls of Abraka while the besieging army was encamped before the fortress. While the attention of the garrison was absorbed by the battle that raged below he scaled the walls, approached the princess unnoticed, slipped the ring from her finger, and escaped unobserved. He hastened to the seaside, and finding a vessel ready to sail, embarked and arrived at Becerta in Africa. Here he found Agramad impatient for the talisman which was to foil the enchantments of Atlantis and to put Rogero into his hands. The Dwarf, kneeling before the king, presented him with the ring, and Agramad, delighted at the success of his mission, crowned him in recompense King of Tengetana. All were now anxious to go in quest of Rogero. The cavalcade accordingly departed, and in due time arrived at the mountain of Carina. At the bottom of this was a fruitful and well-flooded plain watered by a large river, and from this plain was described a beautiful garden on the mountaintop, which contained the mansion of Atlantis. But the ring, which discovered what was before invisible, could not, though it revealed this paradise, enable Agramad or his followers to enter it. So steep and smooth was the rock by nature that even Brunello failed in every attempt to scale it. He did not, for this, despair of accomplishing the object, but having obtained Agramad's consent, caused the assembled courtiers and knights to celebrate a tournament upon the plain below. This was done with the view of seducing Rogero from his fastness, and the stratagem was attended with success. Rogero joined the tourney, and was presented by Agramad with a splendid horse, frontino, and a magnificent sword. Having learned from Agramad his intended invasion of France, he gladly consented to join the expedition. Rotamont, meanwhile, was too impatient to wait for Agramad's arrangements, and embarked with all the forces he could raise, made good his landing on the coast of France, and routed the Christians in several encounters. Previously to this, however, Gano, or Ganalon, as he is sometimes called, the traitor, enemy of Orlando and the other nephews of Charlemagne, had entered into a traitorous correspondence with Marsilius, the Saracen King of Spain, whom he invited into France. Marsilius, thus encouraged, led an army across the frontiers, and joined Rotamont. This was the situation of things when Ronaldo and the other knights who had obeyed the summons of Dudon set forward on their return to France. When they arrived at Buda in Hungary they found the king of that country about dispatching his son, Atacherio, with an army to the sucker of Charlemagne. Delighted with the arrival of Ronaldo he placed his son and troops under his command. In due time the army arrived on the frontiers of France, and united with the troops of Dissidarius, king of Lombardy, poured down into Provence. The Confederate armies had not marched many days through this gay tract before they heard a crash of drums and trumpets behind the hills, which spoke the conflict between the Panams, led by Rotamont, and the Christian forces. Ronaldo, witnessing from a mountain the prowess of Rotamont, left his troops in charge of his friends, and galloped towards him with his lance in rest. The impulse was irresistible, and Rotamont was unhorsed. But Ronaldo, unwilling to avail himself of his advantage, galloped back to the hill, and having secured Bayard among the baggage, returned to finish the combat on foot. During this interval the battle had become general, the Hungarians were routed, and Ronaldo, on his return, had the mortification to find that Atacherio was wounded, and Dudon taken prisoner. While he sought Rotamont in order to renew the combat, a new sound of drums and trumpets was heard, and Charlemagne, with the main body of his army, was described advancing in battle array. Rotamont seeing this, mounted the horse of Dudon, left to Ronaldo, who was on foot, and galloped off to encounter this new enemy. Agremont, accompanied by Rogero, had by this time made good his landing, and joined Rotamont with all his forces. Rogero eagerly embraced this first opportunity of distinguishing himself, and spread terror wherever he went, and countering in turn and overthrowing many of the bravest knights of France. At length he found himself opposite to Ronaldo, who being interrupted, as we have said in this combat with Rotamont, and unable to follow him, being on foot, was shouting to his late foe to return and finish their combat. Rogero also was on foot, and seeing the Christian knights so eager for a contest, proffered himself to supply the place of his late antagonist. Ronaldo saw at a glance that the Moorish Prince was a champion worthy of his arm, and gladly accepted the defiance. The combat was stoutly maintained for a time, but now fortune declared decisively in favour of the Infidel army, and Charlemagne's forces gave way at all points in irreparable confusion. The two combatants were separated by the crowd of fugitives and pursuers, and Ronaldo hastened to recover possession of his horse. But Bayard, in the confusion, had got loose, and Ronaldo followed him to a thick wood, thus becoming effectually separated from Rogero. Rogero, also seeking his horse in the medley, came where two warriors were engaged in mortal combat. Though he knew not who they were, he could distinguish that one was a pagan and the other a Christian, and moved by the spirit of courtesy he approached them and exclaimed, Let him of the two who worships Christ pause and hear what I have to say. The army of Charles is routed and in flight, so that if he wishes to follow his leader he has no time for delay. The Christian knight, who was none other than Bratamat, a female warrior, in prowess equal to the best of knights, was thunderstruck with the tidings, and would gladly leave the contest undecided and retire from the field. But Rodamont, her antagonist, would by no means consent. Rogero, indignant at his discurtycy, insisted upon her departure, while he took up her quarrel with Rodamont. The combat, obstinately maintained on both sides, was interrupted by the return of Bratamat. Finding herself unable to overtake the fugitives, and reluctant to leave to another the burden and risk of a contest which belonged to herself, she had returned to reclaim the combat. She arrived, however, when her champion had dealt his enemy such a blow as obliged him to drop both his sword and bridle. Rogero, disdaining to profit by his adversary's defenseless situation, sat apart upon his horse, while that of Rodamont bore his rider, stunned and stupefied about the field. Bratamat approached Rogero, conceiving a yet higher opinion of his valor on beholding such an instance of forbearance. She addressed him, excusing herself for leaving him exposed to an enemy from his interference in her cause, pleading her duty to her sovereign as the motive. While she spoke, Rodamont, recovering from his confusion, rode up to them. His bearing was, however, changed, and he disclaimed all thoughts of further contest with one who, he said, had already conquered him by his courtesy. So saying, he quitted his antagonist, picked up his sword, and spurred out of sight. Rodamont was now again desirous of retiring from the field, and Rogero insisted on accompanying her, though yet unaware of her sex. As they pursued their way she inquired the name and quality of her new associate, and Rogero informed her of his nation and family. He told her that Astoniax, the son of Hector of Troy, established the kingdom of Messina in Sicily. From him there were derived two branches, which gave origin to two families of renown. From one spring the royal race of Pepin and Charlemagne, and from the other that of Reggio in Italy. From that of Reggio I am derived, he continued. My mother, driven from her home by the chance of war, died in giving me life, and I was taken in charge by a sage enchanter who trained me to feats of arms amidst the dangers of the desert and the chase. Having thus ended his tale, Rogero entreated a similar return of courtesy from his champion, who replied without disguise that she was of the race of Claremont, and sister to Rinaldo, whose fame was perhaps known to him. Rogero, much moved by this intelligence, entreated her to take off her helmet, and at the discovery of her face remained transported with delight. While absorbed in this contemplation an unexpected danger assailed them. A party which was placed in a wood, in order to intercept the retreating Christians, broke from its ambush upon the pair, and Bratamont, who was uncast, was wounded in the head. Rogero was in a fury at this attack, and Bratamont, replacing her helmet, joined him in taking speedy vengeance on their enemies. They cleared the field of them, but became separated in the pursuit, and Rogero, quitting the chase, wandered by hill and bale in search of her whom he had no sooner found than lost. While pursuing this quest he fell in with two knights, whom he joined, and engaged them to assist in the search of his companion, describing her arms, but concealing from a certain feeling of jealousy her quality in sex. It was evening when they joined company, and having ridden together through the night, the morning was beginning to break, when one of the strangers, fixing his eyes upon Rogero's shield, demanded of him by what right he bore the Trojan arms. Rogero declared his origin in race, and then in his turn interrogated the inquirer as to his pretensions to the cognizance of Hector, which he bore. The stranger replied, My name is Mande Ricardo, son of Agrocan, the Tartar king, whom Orlando treacherously slew. I say treacherously, for in verified he could not have done it. It is in search of him that I have come to France to take vengeance for my father, and to rest from him during Dana, that famous sword which belongs to me and not to him. When the knights demanded to know by what right he claimed during Dana, Mande Ricardo thus related his story. I had been before the death of my father a wild and reckless youth. That event awakened my energies, and drove me forth to seek vengeance. Determined to owe success to nothing but my own exertions, I departed without a tendance or horse or arms. Traveling thus alone and on foot, I aspired one day a pavilion, pitched near a fountain, and entered it, intent on adventure. I found therein a damsel of gracious aspect, who replied to my inquiries that the foundation was the work of a ferry, whose castle stood beyond a neighboring hill, where she kept watch over a treasure which many knights had tried to win, but fruitlessly, having lost their life or liberty in the attempt. This treasure was the armor of Hector, Prince of Troy, whom Achilles treacherously slew. Nothing was wanting but his sword during Dana, and this had fallen into the possession of a queen named Penthesilia, from whom it passed through her descendants to Almontes, whom Orlando slew, and thus became possessed of the sword. The rest of Hector's arms were saved and carried off by Aeneas, from whom this ferry received them in recompense of service rendered. If you have the courage to attempt their acquisition, said the damsel, I will be your guide. Mande Ricardo went on to say that he eagerly embraced the proposal, and being provided with horse and armor by the damsel, set forth on his enterprise, the lady accompanying him. As they rode, she explained the dangers of the quest. The armor was defended by a champion, one of the numerous unsuccessful adventurers for the prize, all of whom had been made prisoners by the ferry, and compelled to take their turn day by day in defending the arms against all comers. Thus speaking they arrived at the castle which was of alabaster overlaid with gold. Before it on a lawn sat an armed knight on horseback, who was none other than Gredasso, king of Saracane, who in his return home from his unsuccessful inroad into France had fallen into the power of the ferry, and was held to do her bidding. Mande Ricardo, upon seeing him, dropped his visor and laid his lance in rest. The champion of the castle was equally ready, and each spurred towards his opponent. They met one another with equal force, splintered their spears, and returning to the charge encountered with their swords. The contest was long and doubtful, when Mande Ricardo, determined to bring it to an end, threw his arms about Gredasso, grappled with him, and both fell to the ground. Mande Ricardo, however, fell uppermost, and, preserving his advantage, compelled Gredasso to yield himself conquered. The damsel now interfered, congratulated the victor, and consoling the vanquished as well she might. Mande Ricardo and the damsel proceeded to the gate of the castle which they found undefended. As they entered they beheld a shield suspended from a pilaster of gold. The device was a white eagle on an azure field, in memory of the bird of Job, which bore away Ganymede, the follower of the Fyrgion race. Beneath was engraved the following couplet. Let none with hand profane my buckler wrong unless he be himself as Hector strong. The damsel, alighting from her palfry, made obeisance to the arms, bending herself to the ground. The Tartar king bowed his head with equal reverence, then advancing toward the shield, touched it with his sword. Thereupon an earthquake shook the ground, and the way by which they had entered closed. Another and an opposed gate opened, and displayed a field bristling with stalks and grains of gold. The damsel, upon this, told him that he had no means of retreat but by cutting down the harvest which was before him, and by uprooting a tree which grew in the middle of the field. Mande Ricardo, without replying, began to mow the harvest with his sword, but had scarce smitten thrice when he perceived that every stalk that fell was instantly transformed into some poisonous or ravenous animal which prepared to assail him. Instructed by the damsel, he snatched up a stone and cast it among the pack. A strange wonder followed, for no sooner had the stone fallen among the beasts than they turned their rage against one another and rent each other to pieces. Mande Ricardo did not stop to marvel at the miracle, but proceeded to fulfill his task and uproot the tree. He clasped bit round the trunk and made vigorous efforts to tear it up by the roots. At each effort fell a shower of leaves that were instantly changed into birds of prey which attacked the night, flapping their wings in his face with horrid screeching. But undismayed by this new annoyance he continued to tug at the trunk till it yielded to his efforts. A burst of wind and thunder followed, and the hawks and vultures flew screaming away. But these only gave place to a new foe, for from the hole made by tearing up the tree issued a furious serpent, and darting at Mande Ricardo wound herself about his limbs with a strain that almost crushed him. Fortune, however, again stood his friend, for writhing under the folds of the monster he fell backwards into the hole, and his enemy was crushed beneath his weight. Mande Ricardo, when he was somewhat recovered and assured himself of the destruction of the serpent, began to contemplate the place into which he had fallen, and saw that he was in a vault, encrusted with costly metals, and illuminated by a live coal. In the middle was a sort of ivory beer, and upon this was extended what appeared to be a night in armor, but was in truth an empty trophy, composed of the rich and precious arms once hectares, to which nothing was wanting but the sword. While Mande Ricardo stood contemplating the prize, a door opened behind him, and a bevy of fair damsels entered, dancing, who taking up the armor piece by piece, led him away to the place where the shield was suspended, where he found the fairy of the castle seated in state. By her he was invested with the arms he had won, first pledging his solemn oath to wear no other blade but Durandana, which he was to rest from Orlando, and thus complete the conquest of Hector's arms. Section 7 of Bullfinch's The Legends of Charlemagne. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by William Peck, also known as Papa Man. The Age of Charlemagne by Thomas Bullfinch. Section 7, The Invasion of France, Part 2. Mande Ricardo, having completed his story, now turned to Rogero, and proposed that arms should decide which of the two was most worthy to bear the symbol of the Trojan Knight. Rogero felt no other objection to this proposal than the scruple which arose on observing that his antagonist was without a sword. Mande Ricardo insisted that this need be no impediment, since his oath prevented him from using a sword until he should have achieved the conquest of Durandana. This was no sooner said than a new antagonist started up in Gradasso, who now accompanied Mande Ricardo. Gradasso vindicated his prior right to Durandana to obtain which he had embarked, as was related in the beginning, in that bold inroad upon France. A quarrel was thus kindled between the kings of Tartary and Saracan. While the dispute was raging, a night arrived upon the ground, accompanied by a damn cell to whom Rogero related the cause of the strike. The night was Florismart, and his companion Flordellus. Florismart succeeded in bringing the two champions to accord by informing them that he could bring them to the presence of Orlando, the master of Durandana. Gradasso and Mande Ricardo readily made truce in order to accompany Florismart, nor would Rogero be left behind. As they proceeded on their quest, they were met by a dwarf who entreated their assistants on behalf of his lady, who had been carried off by an enchanter mounted on a winged horse. However unwilling to leave the question of the sword undecided, it was not possible for the knights to resist this appeal. Two of their number, Gradasso and Rogero, therefore accompanied the dwarf. Mande Ricardo persisted in his search for Orlando and Florismart, with Florismart, pursued their way to the camp of Charlemagne. Atlantis, the enchanter who had bought up Rogero and cherished for him the warmest affection, knew by his art that his pupil was destined to be severed from him, and converted to the christened faith through the influence of Brata Monte, that royal maiden with whom chance had brought him acquainted. Thinking to thwart the will of heaven in this respect, he now put forth all his arts to entrap Rogero into his power. By the aid of his subservient demons, he reared a castle on an inaccessible height in the Pyrenean mountains, and to make it a pleasant abode to his pupil, contrived to entrap and convey, thither, knights and damn cells, many a one, whom chance had brought into the vicinity of his castle. Here, in sort of a central paradise, they were but too willing to forget glory and duty, and to pass their time in indolent enjoyment. It was by the enchanter that the dwarf had now been sent to tempt the knights into his power. But we must now return to Renado, whom we left interrupted in his combat with Rodomont. In search of his late antagonist and intent on bringing their combat to a decision, he entered the farce of Arden, wither he suspected Rodomont had gone. While engaged on this quest, he was surprised by the vision of a beautiful child dancing naked with three damn cells as beautiful as himself. While he was lost in admiration at the sight, the child approached him, and, throwing at him handfuls of roses and lilies, struck him from his horse. He was no sooner down than he was seized by the dancers, by whom he was dragged about and scourged with flowers till he fell into a swoon. When he began to revive, one of the group approached him and told him that his punishment was the consequence of his rebellion against that power, before whom all things been, that were about one remedy to heal the wounds that had been afflicted, and that was to drink of the waters of love. Then they left him. Renado, sore and faint, dragged himself toward a fountain which flowed nearby, and being parched with thirst drank greedily and almost unconsciously of the water, which was sweet to the taste, but bitter to the heart. After repeated droughts, he recovered his strength and recollection, and found himself in the same place where Angelica had formally awakened him with a rain of flowers, and whence he had fled in contempt of her courtesy. This remembrance of this scene was followed by the recognition of his crime, and repenting bitterly his ingratitude, he leaped upon Bayard with the intention of hastening to Angelica's country and soliciting his pardon at her feet. Let us now retrace our steps and revert to the time when the Powedons, having learned from Doudon the summons of Charlemagne to return to France to repel the invaders, had all obeyed the command with the exception of Orlando, whose passion for Angelica still held him in attendance on her. Orlando, arriving before Albraca, found it closely beleaguered. He, however, made his way into the citadel and related his adventures to Angelica from the time of his departure up to his separation from Ronaldo and the rest, when they departed to the assistance of Charlemagne. Angelica, in return, described the distresses of the garrison and the force of the besiegers, and, in conclusion, prayed Orlando to favor her escape from the pressing danger and escort her into France. Orlando, who did not suspect that the love for Ronaldo was her secret motive, joyfully agreed to the proposal and the sally was resolved upon. Leaving lights burning in the fortress, they departed at nightfall and passed in safety through the enemy's camp. After encountering numerous adventures, they reached the seaside and embarked on board a penance for France. The vessel arrived safely and the travelers, disembarking in province, pursued their way by land. One day, heated and weary, they sought shelter from the sun in the forest of Arden and chanced directly to Angelica to the fountain of disdain, of whose waters she eagerly drank. Issuing thence, the Count and Damsel encountered a stranger night. It was no other than Ronaldo, who was just on the point of setting off on a pilgrimage in search of Angelica to implore her pardon for his insensibility and urge his newfound passion. Surprise and delight at first deprived him of utterance, but soon recovering himself, he joyfully saluted her, claiming her as his and exhorting her to put herself under his protection. His presumption was repelled by Angelica with disdain. And Orlando, enraged at the invasion of his rights, challenged him to decide their claims by arms. Terrified at the combat which ensued, Angelica fled Amain through the forest and came out upon a plane covered with tents. This was the camp of Charlemagne, who led the army of reserve, destined to support the troops which had advanced to oppose Marsilius. Charles, having heard the Damsel's tale with difficulty separated the two cousins and then consigned Angelica as the cause of quarrel to the care of Nemo, Duke of Bavaria, promising that she should be his who should best deserve her in the impending battle. But these plans and hopes were frustrated. The Christian army, beaten at all points, fled from the Saracens and Angelica, indifferent to both of her lovers, mounted a swift palfry and plunged into the forest, rejoicing, inspired of her terror at having regained her liberty. She stopped at last in a tough grove where a gentle Zephyr blew and whose young trees were watered by two clear runnels which came and mingled their waters, making a pleasing murmur. Believing herself far from Renato and overcome by fatigue and the summer heat, she saw with the light a bank cover with flowers, so thick that they almost hid the green turf, inviting her to a light and rest. She dismounted from her palfry and turned him loose to recruit his strength with the tender grass which bordered the streamlets. Then in a sheltered nook, tapestry with moss and fencing with roses and hawthorne flowers, she yielded herself to grateful repose. She had not slept along when she was awakened by the noise made by the approach of a horse. Starting up, she saw an arm knight who had arrived at the bank of the stream, not knowing whether he was to be feared or not, her heart beat with anxiety. She pressed aside the leaves to allow her to see who it was, but scarce dared to breathe for fear of betraying herself. Soon the knight threw himself on the flowery bank and leaning his head on his hand fell into a profound reverie. Then, arousing himself from his silence, he began to pour forth complaints, mingle with deep sighs. Rivers of tears flowed down his cheeks and his breasts seemed to labor with a hidden flame. Aw vain regrets, he exclaimed, cruel fortune. Others triumphed while I endure hopeless misery, better a thousand times to lose life than where a chain so disgraceful and so oppressive. Angelica, by this time, had recognized a stranger and perceived that it was Sacri-Pont, King of Circasia, one of the worthiest of her suitors. This prince had followed Angelica from his country at the very gates of the day to France, where he heard, with dismay, that she was under the guardianship of the Powedon Orlando, and that the emperor had announced his decree to award her as the prize of valor to one of his nephews who should best deserve her. As Sacri-Pont continued to lament, Angelica, who had always opposed the hardness of marble to his size, thought with herself that nothing forbade her employing his good offices in this unhappy crisis. Though firmly resolved never to accept him as a spouse, she yet felt the necessity of giving him a gleam of hope and reward for the service she required of him. All at once, like Diana, she stepped forth from the arbor. May the gods preserve thee, she said, and put far from thee all hard thoughts of me. Then she told him all that had befallen her since she parted with him at her father's court, and how she had availed herself of Orlando's protection to escape from the beleaguered city. At that moment, the noise of the horse and armor was heard as one approaching, and Sacri-Pont, furious at the interruption, resumed his helmet, mounted his horse, and placed his lance in rest. He saw a knight advancing with scarf and plume with snowy whiteness. Sacri-Pont regarded him with angry eyes, and, while he was yet some distance off, defied him to the combat. The other, not moved by his angry tone to make reply, put himself on his defense. Their horses, struck at the same moment with the spur, rushed upon one another with the impetuosity of a tempest. Their shields were pierced each with the other's lance, and only the temper of their breast place saved their lives. Both the horses recoiled with the violence of the shock, but the unknown knights recovered itself at the touch of the spur. The Sacri-Pont king fell dead, and bore down his master with him. The white knight, seeing his enemy in his condition, cared not to renew the combat, but thinking he had done enough for glory, pursued his way through the forest, and was a mile off before Sacri-Pont had got free from his horse. As a plumb and stunned by a thunder clap which has stricken dead the oxen at its plow, stands motionless, sadly contemplating his loss, so Sacri-Pont stood confounded and overwhelmed with mortification at having Angelica a witness of his defeat. He groaned, he sighed, less from the pain of his bruises than for the shame of being reduced to such a state before her. The princess took pity on him and consoled him as well as she could. "'Bennis, you regrets, my lord,' she said. "'This accident has happened solely "'in consequence of the feebleness of your horse, "'which had more need of rest and food "'than of such an encounter as this. "'Nor can your adversary gain any credit by it, "'since he has hurried away, not venturing, a second trial.' While thus she consoled Sacri-Pont, they perceived a person approach who seemed the courier with bag and horn. As soon as he came up, he accosted Sacri-Pont and inquired if he had seen a knight pass that way, bearing a white shield and with a white plume to his helmet. "'I have indeed seen too much of him,' said Sacri-Pont. "'It is he who has brought me to the ground, "'but at least I hope to learn from you who that knight is. "'That I can easily inform you,' said the man. "'Know then that if you have been overthrown, "'you owe your fate to the high prowess "'of a lady as beautiful as she is brave. "'It is the fair and illustrious Bratamante "'who has won from you the honors of victory.' "'At these words, the courier rode on his way, "'leaving Sacri-Pont more confounded "'and mortified than ever. "'In silence, he mounted the horse of Angelica, "'taking the lady behind him on the crook, "'and rode away in search of a more secure asylum. "'Hardly had they ridden two miles "'when a new sound was heard in the forest, "'and they perceived a gallant and powerful horse, "'which, leaping the ravines "'and dashing aside the branches that opposed his passage, "'appeared before them accoutred "'with a rich harness adorned with gold. "'If I may believe my eyes, "'which penetrate with difficulty underwood,' said Angelica, "'that horse that dashes so stoutly "'through the bushes is Bayard, "'and I marvel how he seems to know "'the need we have of him, "'mounted as we both are on one feeble animal. "'Sacri-Pont, dismounting from the palfry, "'approached the fiori churser "'and attempted to seize his bridle, "'but the disdainful animal, turning from him, "'launched at him a volley of kicks "'enough to have shattered a wall of marble. "'Bayard then approached Angelica, "'with an air as gentle and loving "'as a faithful dog could his master "'after a long separation. "'For he remembered how she had caressed him "'and even fed him in Elbraca. "'She took his bridle in her left hand, "'while with her right she padded his neck. "'The beautiful animal, gifted with wonderful intelligence, "'seemed to submit entirely. "'Sacri-Pont, seizing the moment to vault upon him, "'controlled his curvitings, "'and Angelica, quitting the croup of the palfry, "'regained her seat. "'But turning his eyes toward a place "'where it was heard a noise of arms, "'Sacri-Pont beheld Renato. "'That hero now loves Angelica more than his life, "'and she flies him as the timid crane, the falcon. "'The fountain of which Angelica had drunk "'produced such an effect on the beautiful queen "'that with distressed countenance and trembling voice, "'she conjured Sacri-Pont, "'not to wait the approach of Renato, "'but to join her in flight. "'Am I then,' said Sacri-Pont, "'of so little esteem with you, "'that you doubt my power to defend you? "'Do you forget the battle of Albuquerque "'and how in your defense I fought single-handed "'against Agri-Con and all his knights? "'Angelica made no reply, uncertain what to do, "'but already Renato was too near to be escaped. "'He advanced menacingly to this occasion king, "'for he recognized his horse. "'While thief,' he cried, "'dismount from that horse "'and prevent the punishment that is your due "'for daring to rob me of my property. "'Leave also the princes in my hands, "'for it would indeed be a sin to suffer so charming a lady "'and so gallant a charger to remain in such keeping. "'The king of Sarcaja, furious at being thus insulted, "'cried out, "'Thou liars villain, in giving me the name of Thief, "'which better belongs to thyself than to me. "'It is true, the beauty of this lady "'and the perfection of this horse are unequaled. "'Come on then and let us try "'which of us is most worthy to possess them.'" At these words, the king of Sarcaja and Renato attacked one another with all their force, one fighting on foot, the other on horseback. You need not, however, suppose that the Saracan king found any advantage in this, for a young page unused to horsemanship could not have failed more completely to manage Bayard than did this accomplished knight. The faithful animal loved his master too well to injure him and refused his aid as well as his obedience to the hand of Sacripan, who could strike but ineffectual blows, the horse backing when he wished him to go forward and dropping his head and arching his back, throwing out with his legs, so as almost to shake the knight out of the saddle. Sacripan, seeing that he could not manage him, watched his opportunity, rose on his saddle and leapt gently to the earth. Then, relieved from the embarrassment of the horse, renewed the combat on more equal terms. Their skill to thrusts and parry were equal. One rises, the other stoops, with one foot set firmly, they turn and whine to lay on strokes or to dodge them. At last, Renato, throwing himself on his occasion, dealt him a blow so terrible that Fusperda, his good sword, cut into the buckler of Sacripan, although it was made of bone and covered with a thick plate of steel, well tempered. The arm of the Saracan was deprived of its defense and almost palsy with the stroke, Angelica, perceiving how victory was likely to incline and shuddering at the thought of becoming the prize of Renato, hesitated no longer. Turning her horse's head, she fled with the utmost speed and, in spite of the round pebbles which covered a steep descent, she plunged into a deep valley, trembling with the fear that Renato was in pursuit. At the bottom of this valley, she encountered an ancient hermit whose white beard flowed to his middle and whose venerable appearance seemed to assure his piety. This hermit, who appeared shrunk by age and fasting, traveled slowly, mounted upon a wretched ass. The princes, overcome with fear, conjured him to save her life and to conduct her to some port of the sea whence she might embark and quit France, never more to hear the odious name of Renato. The old hermit was something of a wizard. He comforted Angelica and promised to protect her from all peril. Then he opened his script and took from thence a book and had read but a single page when a goblin obedient to his incantations appeared under the form of a laboring man and demanded his orders. He received them, transported himself to the place where the knights still maintained their conflict and boldly stepped between the two. Tell me, I pray you, he said. What benefit will crew to him who shall get the better in this contest? The object you are contending for is already disposed of. For the power in Orlando, without effort and without opposition, is now carrying away the princes Angelica to Paris. You have better pursue them promptly. For if they reach Paris, you will never see her again. At these words, you might have seen those rival warriors confounded, stupefied, silently agreeing that they were affording their rival a fair opportunity to triumph over them. Renato, approaching Bayard, breathless, a sigh, a shame, and rage, and swears a terrible oath that if he overtakes Orlando, he will tear his heart out. Then mounting Bayard and pressing his flanks with his spurs, he leaves the king of Circasia on foot in the forest. Let it not appear strange that Renato found Bayard obedient at last after having so long prevented anyone from even touching his bridle, for that fine animal had an intelligence almost human. He had fled from his master only to draw him on the track of Angelica and enable him to recover her. He saw when the princes fled from the battle and Renato being then engaged in a fight on foot, Bayard found himself free to follow the traces of Angelica. Thus he had drawn his master after him, not permitting him to approach and had brought him to the sight of the princes. But Bayard now deceived like his master with the false intelligence of the goblin, submits to be mounted and to serve his master as usual and Renato, animated with rage, makes him fly toward Paris more solely than his wishes, though the speed of Bayard outstripped the winds. Full of impatience to encounter Orlando, he gave but a few hours that night to sleep. Early the next day, he saw before him the great city under the walls of which Emperor Charles had collected the scattered remains of his army. For seeing that he would soon be attacked on all sides, the emperor had caused the ancient fortifications to be repaired and new ones to be built surrounded by wide and deep ditches. The desire to hold the field against the enemy made him seize every means of adhering new allies. He hoped to receive from England aid, sufficient to enable him to form a new camp. And as soon as Renato rejoined him, he selected him to go as his ambassador to England to plead for auxiliaries. Renato was far from pleased with his commission, but he obeyed the emperor's commands without giving himself time to devote a single day to the object nearest his heart. He hastened to Calais and lost not a moment in embarking for England, ardently desiring a hasty dispatch of his commission and a speedy return to France. End of section seven. Section eight of Bullfinches, The Legends of Charlemagne. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by William Peck, also known as Papa Man. The Age of Charlemagne by Thomas Bullfinch, section eight, Brata Monti and Rogero. Brata Monti, the Knight of the White Plume and Shield, whose sudden appearance and encounter with Sacrepont, we have already told, was in quest of Rogero, from whom Chance had separated her almost at the beginning of their acquaintance. After her encounter with Sacrepont, Brata Monti pursued her way through the forest in hopes of rejoining Rogero and arrived at last on the brink of a fair fountain. This fountain flowed through a broad meadow, ancient trees overshadowed it and travelers attracted by the sweet murmur of its waters stopped there to cool themselves. Brata Monti, casting her eyes on all sides to enjoy the beauties of the spot, perceived under the shade of a tree, a knight reclining who seemed to be oppressed with the deepest grief. Brata Monti accosted him and asked to be informed of the cause of his distress. Alas, my Lord, said he, I lament a young and charming friend, my Afian's wife, who has been torn from me by a villain. Let me rather call him a demon, who on a winged horse descended from the air, seized her and bore her screaming to his den. I have pursued them over rocks and through ravines till my horse is no longer able to bear me and now I wait only for death. He added that already a vain attempt on his behalf had been made by two knights, whom Chance had brought to the spot, their names were Cadosso, King of Saracan and Rogero, the Moor. Both had been overcome by the wiles of the Enchanter and were added to the number of the captives, whom he held in an impregnable castle situated on the height of the mountain. At the mention of Rogero's name, Brata Monti started with the light which was soon changed to an opposite sentiment when she heard that her lover was a prisoner in the toils of the Enchanter. Sir Knight, she said, do not surrender yourself to despair. This day may be more happy for you than you think. If you will only lead me to the castle which enfolds her whom you deplore. The knight responded, after having lost all that may life dear to me, I have no motive to avoid the dangers of the enterprise and I will do as you request. But I forewarn you of the perils you will have to encounter if you fall imputed not to me. Having thus spoken, they took their way to the castle but were overtaken by a messenger from the camp who had been sent in quest to Brata Monti to summon her back to the army where her presence was needed to reassure her disenchanted forces and withstand the advance of the Moors. The mournful knight whose name was Pinnabelle thus became aware that Brata Monti was a scion of the House of Claremont between which and his own of Maycincts there existed an ancient feud. From this moment, the traitors sought only how he might be rid of the company of Brata Monti from whom he feared no good would come to him but rather mortal injury if his name and lineage became known to her. For he judged her by his own base model and knowing his ill desserts, he feared to receive his due. Brata Monti in spite of the summons to return to the army could not resolve to leave her lover in captivity and determined first to finish the adventure on which she was engaged. Pinnabelle leading the way, they at length arrived at a wood in the center of which rose a steep rocky mountain. Pinnabelle who now thought of nothing else but how he might escape from Brata Monti proposed to ascend the mountain to extend his view in order to discover a shelter for the night if any there might be within sight. Under this pretense, he left Brata Monti and advanced up the side of the mountain till he came to a cleft in the rock down which he looked and perceived at a widened below into a spacious cavern. Meanwhile, Brata Monti fearful of losing her guide had followed close on his footsteps and rejoined him at the mouth of the cavern. Then the trader seeing the impossibility of escaping her conceived another design. He told her that before her approach, he had seen in the cavern a young and beautiful damsel whose rich dress announced her high birth, who with tears and lamentations implored assistance that before he could descend to relieve her, a ruffian had seized her and hurried her away into the recesses of the cavern. Brata Monti full of truth and courage readily believed this lie of the Macian trader. Eager to sucker the damsel, she looked around for the means of facilitating the descent and seeing a large elm with spreading branches, she lopped off with her sword one of the largest and thrust it into the opening. She told Pinnabelle to hold fast to the larger end. While grasping the branches with her hands, she let herself down into the cavern. The trader smiled at seeing her thus suspended and asking her in mockery, are you a good leaver? He let go the branch with perfidious glee and saw Brata Monti precipitated to the bottom of the cave. I wish your whole race were there with you, he muttered, that you might all perish together. But Pinnabelle's atrocious design was not accomplished. The twigs and foliage of the branch broke its descent and Brata Monti not seriously injured, though stunned with her fall, was reserved for other adventures. As soon as she recovered from the shock, Brata Monti cast her eyes around and perceived the door, through which she passed into a second cavern larger and loftier than the first. It had the appearance of a subterranean temple. Columns of the purest alabaster adorned it and supported the roof, a simple altar rose in the middle. A lamp whose radiance was reflected by the alabaster walls cast a mild light around. Brata Monti, inspired by a sense of religious awe, approached the altar and falling on her knees poured forth her prayers and thanks to the preserver of her life, invoking the protection of his power. At that moment, a small door opened and a female issued from it with naked feet and flowing robe and hair, who called her by her name and thus addressed her, brave and generous Brata Monti, know that it is a power from above that has brought you hither. The spirit of Merlin, whose last earthly abode was in this place, has worn me of your arrival and of the fate that awaits you. This famous grotto, she continued, was the work of the enchanter Merlin. Here his ashes repose. You have no doubt heard how this sage and virtuous enchanter ceased to be. Victim of the artful ferry of the lake, Merlin, by a fatal compliance with her requests, laid himself down living in his tomb, without power to resist a spell laid upon him by that ingrate who retained him there as long as he lived. His spirit hovers above this spot and will not leave it until the last trumpet shall summon the dead to judgment. He answers the questions of those who approach his tomb, where perhaps you may be privileged to hear his voice. Brata Monti astonished at these words and the objects which met her view knew not whether she was awake or asleep. Confused but modest, she cast down her eyes and a blush overspread her face. Ah, what am I, she said, that's so great a prophet should deign to speak to me. Still, with a secret satisfaction, she followed the priestess, who led her to the tomb of Merlin. This tomb was constructed of a species of stone, hard and resplendent like fire. The rays which beamed from the stone suffice to light up that terrible place where the sun's rays never penetrated. But I know not whether that light was the effect of a certain phosphorance of the stone itself or the many talismans and charms with which it was wrought over. Brata Monti had hardly passed a threshold of this sacred place when the spirit of the enchanter saluted her with a voice firm and distinct. May thy designs be prosperous, O chase and noble maiden, the future mother of heroes, the glory of Italy, and destined to fill the whole world with their fame. Great captains, renowned knights, shall be numbered among your descendants, who shall defend the church and restore their country to its ancient splendor. Princes, wise as the gossips and the sage Numa, shall bring back the age of gold. To accomplish these grand destinies, it is ordained that you shall wed the illustrious Rogero. Fly then to his deliverance and lay prostrate in the dust, the traitor who has snatched him from you and now holds him in chains. Marilyn ceased with these words and left to Melissa the priestess the charge of more fully instructing the maiden in her future course. Tomorrow, she said, I shall conduct you to the castle on the rock where Rogero is held captive. I will not leave you till I have guided you through this wild wood, and I will direct you on your way so that you shall be in no danger of mistaking it. The next morning, Melissa conducted broad amante between rocks and precipice, crossing rapid torrents and traversing intricate passes, employing the time in imparting to her such information as was necessary to enable her to bring her design to a successful issue. Not only would the castle impenetrable by force and that wing horse of his baffle your efforts, but know that he possesses also a buckler when it flashes a light so brilliant that the eyes of all who look upon it are blinded. Think not to avoid it by shutting your eyes for how then will you be able to avoid his blows and make him feel your own. But I will teach you the proper course to pursue. Agramant, the Moorish Prince, possesses a ring stolen from a queen of India which has power to render of no avail all enhancements. Agramant, knowing that Rogero is of more importance to him than any one of his warriors, is desirous of rescuing him from the power of the enchanter and has sent for that purpose Brunello, the most crafty and sagacious of his servants, provided with his wonderful ring and he is even now at hand bent on this enterprise. But beautiful Pradamanti, as I desire that no one but yourself shall have the glory of delivering from thrall your future spouse, listen while I disclose the means of success. Following this path which leads by the seashore, you will come ere long to a haastory where the Sarashen Brunello will arise shortly before you. You will readily know him by his stature under four feet, his great disproportion head, his squint eyes, his livid hue, his thick eyebrows joining his tufted beard, his dress moreover that of a courier will point him out to you. It will be easy for you to enter into conversation with him, announcing yourself as a knight, seeking combat with the enchanter, but let not the nave suspect that you know anything about the ring. I doubt not that he will not be your guide to the castle of the enchanter. Accept his offer but take care to keep behind him till you come in sight of the brilliant dome of the castle. Then hesitate not to strike him dead for the wretch deserves no pity and take from him the ring, but let him not suspect your intention for by putting the ring into his mouth, he will instantly become invisible and disappear from your eyes. Saying thus, the sage Melissa and the fair Bratamonte arrive near the city of Bordeaux where the rich and wide river Garone pours the tribute of its waves into the sea. They parted with tender embraces. Bratamonte intend wholly on her purpose, hastened to arrive at the hostelry where Brunello had preceded her a few moments only. The young heroine knew him without difficulty. She accosted him and put to him some slight questions to which he replied with adroit falsehoods. Bratamonte on her part concealed from him her sex, her religion, her country, and the blood from whence she sprung. While they talked together, sudden cries are heard from all parts of the hasteery. Oh, queen of heaven, exclaimed Bratamonte, what can be the cause of this sudden alarm? She soon learned the cause. Hosts, children, domestics, all with upturned eyes as if they saw a comet or a great eclipse were gazing on a prodigy which seemed to pass the bounds of possibility. She beheld distinctly a wing horse mounted with a cavalier in rich armor, cleaving the air with rapid flight. The wings of this strange coarser were wide extended and covered with feathers of various colors. The polished armor of the night made them shine with rainbow tents. In a short time, the horse and rider disappeared behind the summits of the mountains. It is an enchanter, said the host, a magician who often is seen traversing the air in that way. Sometimes he flies aloft a zip among the stars and at other skims along the land. He possesses a wonderful castle on the top of the Pyrenees. Many knights have shown their courage by going to attack him, but none have ever returned, from which it is to be feared they have lost either their life or their liberty. Pradamati, addressing the host, said, could you furnish me a guide to conduct me to the castle of this enchanter? But by my faith, said Bernelo interrupting, that you shall seek in vain, I have it all in writing and I will myself conduct you. Pradamati, with thanks, accepted him for her guide. The host had a tolerable horse to dispose of, which Pradamati bargained for, and the next day at the first dawn of morning, she took her route by a narrow valley, taking care to have the Saracen Bernudo lead the way. They reached the summit of the Pyrenees whence one may look down on France, Spain and the two seas. From this height, they descended again by a fatiguing road into a deep valley. From the middle of this valley an isolated mountain rose, composed of rough and perpendicular rock on whose summit was the castle, surrounded with a walled brass. Bernelo said, yonder is a stronghold where the enchanter keeps his prisoners. One must have wings to Mount Dither. It is easy to see that the aid of a flying horse must be necessary for the master of this castle which he uses for his prison and for his abode. Pradamati sufficiently instructed, saw that the time had now come to possess herself of the ring, but she could not resolve to slay a defenseless man. She seized Bernelo before he was aware, bound him to a tree and took from him the ring which he wore on one of his fingers. The cries and entreaties of the perfidious Saracen moved her not. She advanced to the foot of the rock whereon the castle stood, and to draw the magician to the combat sounded her horn adding to a cries of defiance. The enchanter delayed not to present himself, mounted on his wing horse. Pradamati was struck with surprise, mixed with joy when she saw that this person described as so formidable, bore no lance, nor club, nor any other deadly weapon. He had only on his arm a buckler covered with cloth and in his hand an open book. As to the winged horse, there was no enchantment about him. He was a natural animal of a species which exists in the Rifian Mountains. Like a griffin, he had the head of an eagle, claws armed with talons, and wings covered with feathers, the rest of his body being dead of a horse. This strange animal is called a hippogriff. The heroine attacked the enchanter on his approach, striking on this side and on that, with all the energy of a violent combat, but wounding only the wind. And after this pretended attack had lasted some time, dismounted from her horse, as if hoping to do battle more effectually on foot. The enchanter now prepares to employ his sole weapon by uncovering the magic buckler, which never failed to subdue an enemy by depriving him of his senses. Pradamati, confiding in her ring, observed all the motions of her adversary and at the unveiling of the shield, cast herself on the ground, pretending that the splendor of the shield had overcome her, but in reality to induce the enchanter to dismount and approach her. It happened according to her wish. When the enchanter saw her prostate, he made his horse a light on the ground and dismounting fixed the shield on the pommel of his saddle and approached in order to secure the fallen warrior. Pradamati, who watched him intently, as soon as she saw him near at hand, sprang up, seized him vigorously through him down and with the same chain which the enchanter had prepared for herself, bound him fast, without his being able to make any effectual resistance. The enchanter, with the actions of despair, exclaimed, take my life, young man, but Pradamati was far from complying with such a wish. Desirous of knowing the name of the enchanter and for what purpose he had formed with so much art, this impregnable fortress, she commanded him to inform her. Alas, replied the magician while tears flowed out his cheeks, it is not to conceal booty nor for any culpable design that I have built this castle. It was only to guard the life of a young knight, the object of my tenderest affection, my art having taught me that he is destined to become a Christian and to perish shortly after by the blackest attrisions. This youth named Rogero is the most beautiful and most accomplished of knights. It is I, the unhappy Atlantis, who have reared him from his childhood. The call of honor and the desire of glory led him from me to follow Aggrimant, his prince, and his invasion of France. And I, more devoted to Rogero than the tenderest of parents, have sought the means of bringing him back to this abode in the hope of saving him from the cruel fate that menaces him. For this purpose, I have got him in my possession by the same means as I attempted to employ against you, and by which I have succeeded in collecting a great many knights and ladies in my castle. My purpose was to render my beloved pupil's captivity light by affording him society to amuse him and keep his thoughts from running on subjects of war and glory. Alas, my cares have been in vain. Yet take, I beseech you, whatever else I have, but spare me, my beloved pupil. Take this shield, take this wing cursor, deliver such of your friends as you may find among my prisoners. Deliver them all, if you will, but leave me, my beloved Rogero. Or if you will snatch him, too, from me, take also my life, which will cease then to be, to me, worth preserving. Pradamate replied, oh, man, hope not to move me by your vain entreaties. It is precisely the liberty of Rogero that I require. You would keep him here in bondage and in slothful pleasure to save him from a fate which you foresee. They know, man, how can you foresee his fate when you could not foresee your own? You desire me to take your life? No, my aim and my soul refuse the request. This said, she required the magician to go before and guide her to the castle. The prisoners were set at liberty, though some in their secret hearts regretted the voluptuous life which was thus brought to an end. Pradamate and Rogero met one another with transports of joy. They descended from the mountain to the spot where the encounter had taken place. There they found the hippogriff with the magic buckler in its wrapper hanging to his saddle below. Pradamate advanced to seize the bridle. The hippogriff seemed to wait her approach. But before she reached him, he spread his wings and flew away to a neighboring hill. And in the same manner, a second time eluded her efforts. Rogero and the other liberated knights dispersed over the plain in hilltops to secure him. And at last the animal allowed Rogero to seize his reign. The fearless Rogero hesitated not to vault upon his back and let him feel his spurs, which so roused his meadow that after galloping a short distance, he suddenly spread his wings and soared into the air. Pradamate had the grief to see her lover snatched away from her at the very moment of reunion. Rogero, who knew not the art of directing the horse, was unable to control his flight. He found himself carried over the tops of the mountains so far above them that he could hardly distinguish what was land and what water. The hippogriff directed his flight to the west and cleaved the air swiftly as a new rake vessel cuts the waves, impelled by the freshest and most favorable gales. End of section eight. Section nine of Bullfinches, The Legends of Charlemagne. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by CZG. The Age of Charlemagne by Thomas Bullfinch. Section nine, Alstoffo and the Enchantress. In the long flight which Rogero took on the back of the hippogriff, he was carried over land and sea, unknowing wither. As soon as he had gained some control over the animal, he made him alight on the nearest land. When he came near enough to earth, Rogero leapt lightly from his back and tied the animal to a myrtle tree. Near the spot flowed the pure waters of a fountain, surrounded by cedars and palm trees. Rogero laid aside his shield and, removing his helmet, breathed with delight the fresh air and cooled his lips with the waters of the fountain. For we cannot wonder that he was excessively fatigued, considering the ride he had taken. He was preparing to taste the sweets of a pose when he perceived that the hippogriff, which he had tied by the bridle to a myrtle tree, frightened at something, was making violent efforts to disengage himself. His struggle shook the myrtle tree so that many of its beautiful leaves were torn off and strewed the ground. A sound like that, which issues from burning wood, seemed to come from the myrtle tree. At first faint and indistinct, but growing stronger by degrees and at length was audible as a voice which spoke in this manner. O night, if the tenderness of your heart corresponds to the beauty of your person, relieve me, I pray you, from this tormenting animal. I suffer enough inwardly without having outward evils added to my lot. Regero, at the first accents of this voice, turned his eyes promptly on the myrtle, hastened to it and stirred fixed in astonishment when he perceived that the voice issued from the tree itself. He immediately untied his horse and, flushed with surprise and regret, exclaimed, whoever thou art, whether mortal or the goddess of these woods, forgive me, I beseech you, my involuntary vault. Had I imagined that this hard bark covered a being possessed a feeling, could I have exposed such a beautiful myrtle to the insults of this deed? May the sweet influences of the sky and air speedily repair the injury I have done. For my part, I promise, by the sovereign lady of my heart, to do everything you wish in order to merit your forgiveness. At these words, the myrtle seemed to tremble from root to stem, and Regero remarked that a moisture as of tears trickled down its bark, like that which exudes from a log placed on the fire. It then spoke, the kindness which inspires your words compels me to disclose to you who I once was, and by what fatality I had been changed into this shape. My name was Alstotho, cousin of Orlando and Ronaldo, whose fame has filled the earth. I was myself reckoned among the bravest paladins of France, and was by birth entitled to reign over England after Otho, my father. Returning from the distant east, with Ronaldo and many other brave knights, called home to aid with our arms the great emperor of France, we reached a spot where the powerful enchantress Alsina possessed a castle on the borders of the sea. She had gone to the waterside to amuse herself with fishing, and we paused to see how, by her art, without hook or line, she drew from the water whatever she would. Not far from the shore, an enormous whale showed back so broad and motionless that it looked like an island. Alsina had fixed her eyes on me, and planned to get me into her power. Addressing us, she said, this is the hour when the prettiest mermaid in the sea comes regularly every day to the shore of Yonder Island. She seems so sweetly that the very waves flow smoother at the sound. If you wish to hear her, come with me to her resort. So saying, Alsina pointed to the fish, which we all supposed to be an island. I, who was rash, did not hesitate to follow her, but swam my horse over and mounted on the back of the fish. In vain, Ronaldo and Duden made signs to me to beware. Alsina, smiling, took me in charge and led the way. No sooner were we mounted upon him than the whale moved off, spreading his great fins and cleft rapidly the waters. I then saw my folly, but it was too late to repent. Alsina soothed my anger and professed that what she had done was for love of me. Erlong, we arrived at this island where at first everything was done to reconcile me to my lot and to make my days pass happily away. But soon, Alsina, sated with her conquest, grew indifferent, than weary of me, and at last, to get rid of me, changed me into this form, as she had done to many lovers before me, making some of them olives, some palms, some cedars, changing others into fountains, rocks, or even into wild beasts. And thou, courteous knight, whom accident has brought to this enchanted isle, beware that she get not the power over thee, or thou shalt happily be made like us, a tree, a fountain, or a rock. Rijal expressed his astonishment at this recital. Astolfo added that the island was in great part subject to the sway of Alsina. By the aid of her sister Morgana, she had succeeded in dispossessing a third sister, Logistilla, of nearly the whole of her patrimony, for the whole isle was hers originally by her father's bequest. But Logistilla was temperate and sage while the other sisters were false and voluptuous. Her empire was divided from theirs by a gulf and chain of mountains, which alone had thus far prevented her sister from usurping it. Astolfo here ended his tale, and Rijal, who knew that he was the cousin of Bradamonte, would gladly have devised some way for his relief. But, as that was out of his power, he consoled him as well as he could, and then begged to be told the way to the palace of Logistilla, and how to avoid that of Alsina. Astolfo directed him to take the road to the left, the rough and full of rocks. He warned him that this road would present serious obstacles that troops of monsters would oppose his passage employed by the art of Alsina to prevent her subjects from escaping from her dominion. Rijal thanked the myrtle and prepared to set out on his way. He at first thought he would mount the winged horse and scale the mountain on his back. But he was too uncertain of his power to control him, to wish to encounter the hazard of another flight through the air. Besides that, he was almost famished for the want of food, so he led the horse after him and took the road on foot, which, for some distance, led equally to the dominions of both the sisters. He had not advanced more than two miles when he saw before him the superb city of Alsina. It was surrounded with a wall of gold, which seemed to reach the skies. I know that some think that this wall was not of real gold, but only the work of alchemy. It matters not. I prefer to think it gold, for it's certainly shown like gold. A broad and level road led to the gates of the city, and from this another branched off, narrow and rough, which led to the mountain region. Rogerio took without hesitation the narrow road, but he had no sooner entered upon it than he was assailed by a numerous troop which opposed his passage. You never have seen anything so ridiculous, so extraordinary as this host of hobgoblins were. Some of them bore the human form from the neck to the feet, but had the head of a monkey or a cat. Others had the legs and the ears of a horse. Old men and women, bald and hideous, ran hither and thither as if out of their senses, half clad in the shaggy skins of beasts. One rode full speed on a horse without a bridle. Another jogged along mounted on ass or a cow. Others, full of agility, skipped about and clung to the tails and maims of the animals which their companions rode. Some blew horns, others brandished drinking cups. Some were armed with spits and some with pitchforks. One who appeared to be the captain had an enormous belly and a gross, fat head. He was mounted on a tortoise that waddled. Now this way, now that, without keeping any one direction. One of these monsters, who had something approaching the human form, though he had the neck, ears, and muzzle of a dog, set himself to barking furiously at Rajero to make him turn off to the right and re-enter upon the road to the gay city. But the brave chivalier exclaimed, that will I not, so long as I can use this sword. And he thrust the point directly at his face. The monster tried to strike him with a lance, but Rajero was too quick for him and thrust his sword through his body so that it appeared a hand's breath behind his back. The paladin, now giving full vent to his rage, laid about him vigorously among the rabble, cleaving one to the teeth, another to the girdle, but the troop were so numerous and in spite of his blows pressed around him so close, that to clear his way, he must have had as many arms as Briarys. If Rajero had uncovered the shield of the enchanter, which hung at his saddle-bow, he might easily have vanquished this monster's route, but perhaps he did not think of it. And perhaps he preferred to seek his defense nowhere but in his good sword. At that moment, when his perplexity was at its height, he saw issue from the city gate two young beauties whose air and dress proclaimed their rank and gentle nurture. Each of them was mounted on a unicorn whose whiteness surpassed that of ermine. They advanced to the meadow where Rajero was contending so valiantly against the hobgoblins who all retired at their reproach. They drew near. They extended their hands to the young warrior whose cheeks glowed with the flush of exercise and modesty. Grateful for their assistance, he expressed his thanks and, having no heart to refuse them, followed their guidance to the gate of the city. This grand and beautiful entrance was adorned by a portico of four vast columns, all of diamond. Whether they were real diamond or artificial, I cannot say. What a matter is it. So long as they appeared to the eye like diamond and nothing could be more gay and splendid. On the threshold and between the columns was seen a bevy of charming young women who played and frolicked together. They all ran to receive Rajero and conducted him into the palace which appeared like a paradise. 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 gaiety. The cup of happiness seemed for them ever flowing and exhaustless. The two young damsels, to whom Rajero owed his deliverance from the hobgoblins, conducted him to the apartment of their mistress. The beautiful Alsina 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 Alsina 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 calamity. How could he suspect that falsehood and treason veiled themselves under smiles and the ingenuous air of truth? He doubted not that Alstafo 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 Rajero too harshly for he was the victim of magic power. They seated themselves at table and immediately harmonious liars 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 traetress forgot nothing which might charm the paladin and attach him to the spot, meaning when she should grow tired of him to metamorphize him as she had done others. In the same manner past 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 Rajero led a life of ease and luxury while Charlemagne and Agremont were struggling for empire. But I cannot linger with him while the amiable and courageous Bratamonte is night and day directing her uncertain steps to every spot where the slightest chance invites her in the hope of recovering Rajero. I will therefore say that having sought him in vain in fields and in cities, she knew not whether next to direct her steps. She did not apprehend the death of Rajero. The fall of such a hero would have re-echoed from the high dapses to the far 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. While this thought occupied her mind, Melissa, the sage enchantress, suddenly appeared before her. This virtuous and beneficent magician had discovered by her spells that Rajero was passing his time in pleasure and idleness forgetful of his honor and his sovereign. Not able to endure the thought that one who was born to be a hero should waste his years in base repose and leave a sullied reputation in the memory of survivors, she saw that vigorous measures must be employed to draw him forth into the paths of virtue. Melissa was not blinded by her affection for the amiable paladin like Atlantis, who, intent only on preserving Rajero's life, kept nothing for his fame. It was that old enchanter whose arts had guided the hippogriff to the isle of the two charming Alcina where he hoped his favorite would learn to forget honor and lose the love of glory. At the sight of Melissa, Joy lighted up the countenance of Brata Monti and hope animated her breast. Melissa concealed nothing from her but told her how Rajero was in the toils of Alcina. Brata Monti was plunged in grief and terror but the kind enchantress calmed her and dispelled her fears and promised that before many days she would lead back the paladin to her feet. My daughter, she said, give me the ring which you wear and which possesses the power to overcome enchantments. By means of it I doubt not but that I may enter the stronghold where the false Alcina holds Rajero endurance and may succeed in vanquishing her and liberating him. Brata Monti unhesitatingly delivered her the ring recommending Rajero to her best efforts. Melissa then summoned by her a huge pelfry black as jet, accepting one foot which was bay. Mounted upon this animal, she rode with such speed that by the next morning she had reached the abode of Alcina. She here transformed herself into the perfect resemblance of the old magician Atlantis, adding a palm breath to her height and enlarging her whole figure. Her chin she covered with a long beard and seemed her whole visage well with wrinkles. She assumed also his voice and manner and watched her chance to find Rajero alone. At last she found him, dressed in a rich tunic of silk and gold, a collar of precious stones about his neck and his arms, once so rough with exercise, decorated with bracelets. His air and his every motion indicated intimacy and he seemed to retain nothing of Rajero but the name. Such power had the enchantress obtained over him. Melissa, under the form of his old instructor, presented herself before him, wearing a stern and serious visage. Is this, then, she said, the fruit of all my labors? Is it for this that I fed you on the marrow of bears and lions that I taught you to subdue dragons and, like Hercules, strangle serpents in your youthful grasp, only to make you, by all my cares, a feeble adonis? My nightly watching of the stars, of the yet warm fibres of animals, the lots I have cast, the points of nativity that I have calculated. Have they all falsely indicated that you were born for greatness? Who could have believed that you would become the slave of a base enchantress? Oh, Rajero, learn to know this Alsina. Learn to understand her arts and to countervail them. Take this ring, place it on your finger, return to her presence, and see for yourself what are her real charms. At these words, Rajero, confused, abashed, cast his eyes upon the ground and knew not what to answer. Melissa seized the moment, slipped the ring on his finger, and the paladin was himself again. What a thunder clap to him! Overcome by shame, he dared not to encounter the looks of his instructor. When at last he raised his eyes, he beheld not that venerable form, but the priestess Melissa, who in virtue of the ring now appeared in her true person. She told him of the motives which had led her to come to his rescue, of the griefs and regrets of Brada Monti and of her unwaryed search for him. That charming Amazon, she said, sends you this ring, which is a sovereign antidote to all enchantments. She would have sent you her heart in my hands if it would have had greater power to serve you. It was needless for Melissa to say more. Rogero's love for Alcina, being but the work of enchantment, vanished as soon as the enchantment was withdrawn, and he now hated her with an equal intensity, seeing no longer anything in her but her vices and feeling only resentment for the shame that she had put upon him. His surprise when he again beheld Alcina was no less than his indignation. Fortified by his ring from her enchantments, he saw her as she was, a monster of ugliness. All her charms were artificial and, truly viewed, were rather deformities. She was, in fact, older than Hecuba or the symbol of Cumae, but an art which is to be regretted our times have lost enabled her to appear charming and to clothe herself in all the attractions of youth. Rogero now saw all this, but, governed by the councils of Melissa, he concealed his surprise, assumed, under some pretext, his armor, long neglected, and bound to his side Belisarda, his trusty sword, taking also the buckler of Atlantis, covered with its veil. He then selected a horse from the stables of Alcina without exciting her suspicions. But he left the hippogriff by the advice of Melissa, who promised to take him in charge and train him to a more manageable state. The horse he took was Rebecan, which belonged to Astolfo. He restored the ring to Melissa. Rogero had not ridden far when he met one of the huntsmen of Alcina, bearing a falcon on his wrist and followed by a dog. The huntsman was mounted on a powerful horse and came boldly up to the paladin, demanding, in a somewhat imperious manner, whether he was going so rapidly. Rogero disdained to stop or to reply, whereupon the huntsman, not doubting that he was about making his escape, said, what of I, with my falcon, stop your ride? So saying, he threw off the bird, which even Rebecan could not equal in speed. The huntsman then leapt from his horse and the animal open-mouthed, darted after Rogero with the swiftness of an arrow. The huntsman also ran, as if the wind or fire bore him and the dog was equal to Rebecan in swiftness. Rogero, finding flight impossible, stopped and faced his pursuers, but his sword was useless against such foes. The insolent huntsman assailed him with words and struck him with his whip, the only weapon he had. The dog bit his feet and the horse drove at him with his hooves. At the same time the falcon flew over his head and over Rebecan's and attacked them with claws and wings so that the horse in his fright began to be unmanageable. At that moment, the sound of trumpets and cymbals was heard in the valley and it was evident that Alsina had ordered out all her array to go in pursuit. Rogero felt that there was no time to be lost and luckily remembered the shield of Atlantis which she bore suspended from his neck. He unveiled it and the charm worked wonderfully. The huntsman, the dog, the horse fell flat. The trembling wings of the falcon could no longer sustain her and she fell senseless to the ground. Rogero, rid of their annoyances, left them in their trance and rode away. Meanwhile, Alsina, with all the force she could muster, sellied forth from her palace in pursuit. Melissa, left behind, took advantage of the opportunity to ransack all the rooms protected by the ring. She undid, one by one, all the talismans and spells which she found, broke the seals, burned the images and untied the hagnots. Thence, hurrying through the fields, she disenchanted the victims changed into trees, fountains, stones or brutes, all of whom recovered their liberty and vowed eternal gratitude to their deliverer. They made their escape with all possible dispatch to the realms of the good Logistia, whence they departed to their several homes. Astolfo was the first whom Melissa liberated, for Rogero had particularly recommended him to her care. She aided him to recover his arms and particularly that precious golden-headed lance which was once Argaleas. The enchantress mounted with him upon the winged horse and, in a short time, arrived through the air at the castle of Logistia, where Rogero joined them soon after. In this abode, the friends passed a short period of delightful and improving intercourse with the sage Logistia and her virtuous court. And then, each departed, Rogero with the hippogriff, ring and buckler, Astolfo with his golden lance and mounted on Rebekin the fleetist of steeds. To Rogero, Logistia gave a bit and bridle, suited to govern the hippogriff. And to Astolfo, a horn of marvelous powers to be sounded only when all other weapons were unavailing. End of section nine, recording by Susie G. Section 10 of Bullfinches, The Legends of Charlemagne. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Eric Segovis. The Age of Charlemagne, by Thomas Bullfinch. Section 10, The Orc. We left the charming Angelica at the moment when, in her flight from her contending lovers, Sacrepant and Rinaldo, she met an aged hermit. We have seen that her request to the hermit was to furnish her the means of gaining the sea coast, eager to avoid Rinaldo, whom she hated, by leaving France and Europe itself. The pretended hermit, who was no other than a vile magician, knowing well that it would not be agreeable to his false gods to aid Angelica in this undertaking, feigned to comply with her desire. He supplied her a horse, into which he had, by his arts, caused a subtle devil to enter, and, having mounted Angelica on the animal, directed her what course to take to reach the sea. Angelica rode on her way without suspicion, but when arrived at the shore, the demon urged the animal headlong into the water. Angelica, in vain, attempted to turn him back to the land, he continued his course till, as night approached, he landed with his burden on a sandy headland. Angelica, finding herself alone, abandoned in this frightful solitude, remained without movement, as if stupefied, with hands joined and eyes turned towards heaven. Till at last, pouring forth a torrent of tears, she exclaimed, cruel fortune, have you not yet exhausted your rage against me? To what new miseries do you doom me? Alas, then finish your work, deliver me a prey to some ferocious beast, or by whatever fate you choose, bring me to an end. I will be thankful to you for terminating my life and my misery. At last, exhausted by her sorrows, she fell asleep and sunk prostrate on the sand. Before recounting what next befell, we must declare what place it was upon which the unhappy lady was now thrown. In the sea that washes the coast of Ireland, there is an island called Ibuda, whose inhabitants, once numerous, had been wasted by the anger of Proteus, till there was now but few left. This deity was incensed by some neglect of the usual honors, which he had in old times received from the inhabitants of the land, and to execute his vengeance, he had sent a horrid sea monster called an orc to devour them. Such were the terrors of his ravages that the whole people on the isle had shut themselves up in the principal town and relied on their walls alone to protect them. In this distress, they applied to the oracle for advice and were directed to appease the wrath of the sea monster by offering to him the fairest virgin that the country could produce. Now, it so happened that the very day when this dreadful oracle was announced and when the fatal mandate had gone forth to seek among the fairest maidens of the land one to be offered to the monster, some sailors landing on the beach where Angelica was beheld that beauty as she lay asleep. Oh, blind chance, whose power in human affairs is but too great. Canst thou then abandon to the teeth of a horrible monster those charms which different sovereigns took arms against one another to possess? Alas, the lovely Angelica is destined to be the victim of those cruel iron lenders. Still asleep, she was bound by the abudians and was not until she was carried on board the vessel that she came to a knowledge of her situation. The wind filled the sails and wafted the ship swiftly to the port, where all that beheld her agreed that she was unquestionably the victim selected by Proteus himself to be his prey. Who can tell the screams, the mortal anguish of this unhappy maiden, the reproaches she addressed even to the heavens themselves when the dreadful information of her cruel fate was made known to her? I cannot. Let me turn rather to a happier part of my story. Roger O left the palace of Lodges Stila, careering on his flying horse far above the tops of the mountains and born Western by the Hippogriff, which he guided with ease, by means of the bridle that Melissa had given him. Anxious as he was to recover Bradamante, he could not fail to be delighted at the view his rapid flight presented of so many vast regions and populous countries as he passed over in his career. At last he approached the shores of England and perceived an immense army in all the splendor of military pomp, as if about to go forth flushed with the hopes of victory. He caused the Hippogriff to alight not far from the scene and found himself immediately surrounded by admiring spectators, knights and soldiers who simply could not indulge enough of their curiosity and wonder. Roger O learned, in reply to his questions, that the fine array of troops before him was the army destined to go to the aid of the French Emperor in compliance with the request presented by the illustrious Ronaldo as ambassador of King Charles, his uncle. By this time the curiosity of the English chevaliers was partly gratified in beholding the Hippogriff at rest and Roger O, to renew their surprise and delight, remounted the animal and slapping spurs to his sides made him launch into the air with the rapidity of a meteor and directed his flight still westwardly until he came with insight of the coasts of Ireland. Here he described what seemed to be a fair damsel, a lone, fast chain to a rock which projected into the sea. What was his astonishment when, drawing nigh, he beheld the beautiful Princess Angelica? That day she had been led forth and bound to the rock there to wait till the sea monster should come to devour her. Roger O exclaimed as he came near, what cruel hands, what barbarous soul, what fatal chance can have loaded thee with those chains? Angelica replied by a torrent of tears, at first her only response. Then in a trembling voice, she disclosed to him the horrible destiny for which she was there exposed. While she spoke, a terrible roaring was heard far off on the sea. The huge monster soon came in sight, part of his body appearing above the waves and part concealed. Angelica, half dead with fear, abandoned herself to despair. Roger O, lance in rest, spurred his hippogriff toward the orc and gave him a thrust. The horrible monster was like nothing that nature produces. It was but one mass of tossing and twisting body, with nothing of the animal but head, eyes and mouth, the last furnished with tusks like those of the wild boar. Roger O's lance had struck him between the eyes, but rock and iron are not more impenetrable than were his scales. The knight, seeing the fruitlessness of the first blow, prepared to give a second. The animal, beholding upon the water the shadow of the great wings of the hippogriff, abandoned his prey and turned to seize what seemed nearer. Roger O took the opportunity and dealt him furious blows on various parts of his body, taking care to keep clear of his murderous teeth, but the scales resisted every attack. The orc beat the water with his tail till he raised a foam which enveloped Roger O and his steed, so that the knight hardly knew whether he was in the water or the air. He began to fear that the wings of the hippogriff would be so drenched with water that they would cease to sustain him. At that moment Roger O bethought him of the magic shield which hung at his saddle-bow, but the fear that Angelica would also be blinded by its glare discouraged him from employing it. Then he remembered the ring which Melissa had given him, the power of which he had so lately proved. He hastened to Angelica and placed it on her finger. Then, uncovering the buckler, he turned its bright disc full in the face of the detestable orc. The effect was instantaneous. The monster, deprived of sense and motion, rolled over on the sea and lay floating on his back. Roger O would feign have tried to affect his lance on the now exposed parts, but Angelica implored him to lose no time in delivering her from her chains before the monster should revive. Roger O moved with her in treaties, hastened to do so, and having unbound her, made her mount behind him on the hippogriff. The animal, spurning the earth, shot up into the air and rapidly sped his way through it. Roger O to give time to the princess to rest after her cruel agitations. Soon sought the earth again, alighting on the shore of Brittany. Near the shore, a thick wood presented itself, which resounded with the songs of birds. In the midst, a fountain of transparent water bathed the turf of a little meadow. A gentle hill rose nearby. Roger O, making the hippogriff, alight in the meadow dismounted and took Angelica from the horse. When the first tumult of emotion had subsided, Angelica, casting her eyes downward, beheld the precious ring upon her finger, whose virtues she was well acquainted with, for it was the very ring which the Saracen Brunello had robbed her of. She drew it from her finger and placed it in her mouth, and, quicker than we can tell it, disappeared from the sight of the paladin. Roger O looked around him on all sides, like one frantic, but soon remembered the ring which he had so lately placed on her finger. Struck with the ingratitude which could thus recompense his services, he exclaimed, thankless beauty, is this then the reward you make me? Would you prefer to rob me of my ring rather than receive it as a gift? Willingly would I have given it to you, had you but asked it. Thus he said, searching on all sides with arms extended like a blind man, hoping to recover by the touch what was lost to sight. But he saw it in vain. The cruel beauty was already far away. Though sensible of her obligations to her deliverer, her first necessity was for clothing, food, and repose. She soon reached a shepherd's hut where, entering unseen, she found what sufficed for her present relief. An old herdsman inhabited the hut, whose charges consisted of a drove of mares. When recruited by repose, Angela selected one of the mares from the flock and, mounting the animal, felt the desire, revive in her mind of returning to her home in the east, and for that purpose would gladly have accepted the protection of Orlando, or of Sacropan, across whose wide regions which divided her from her own country. In hopes of meeting with one or the other of them, she pursued her way. Meanwhile, Roger O, despairing of seeing Angelica again, returned to the tree where he had left his winged horse, but had the mortification to find that the animal had broken his bridle and escaped. This loss, added to his previous disappointment, overwhelmed him with vexation. Sadly, he gathered up his arms, threw his buckler over his shoulders, and, taking the first path that offered, soon found himself within the verge of a dense and wide-spread forest. He had proceeded for some distance when he heard a noise on his right, and, listening attentively, distinguished the clash of arms. He made his way toward the place whence the sound proceeded, and found two warriors engaged in mortal combat. One of them was a knight of a noble and manly bearing, the other a fierce giant. The knight appeared to exert consummate address in defending herself against the massive club of the giant, evading his strokes or parrying them with sword or shield. Roger O stood spectator of the combat, for he did not allow himself to interfere in it, though a secret sentiment inclined him strongly to take part with the knight. At length he saw with grief the massive club fall directly on the head of the knight, who yielded to the blow and fell prostrate. The giant sprang forward to dispatch him, and for that purpose unlaced his helmet, when Roger O, with dismay, recognized the face of Bradamante. He cried aloud, hold, miscreant, and sprang forward with drawn sword. Whereupon the giant, as if he cared not to enter upon another combat, lifted Bradamante on his shoulders and ran with her into the forest. Roger O plunged after him, but the long legs of the giant carried him forward so fast that the paladin could hardly keep him in sight. At length they issued from the wood, and Roger O perceived before him a rich palace, built of marble, and adorned with sculptures executed by a master hand. Into this edifice, through a golden door, the giant passed, and Roger O followed, but on looking round, saw nowhere either the giant or Bradamante. He ran from room to room, calling aloud on his cowardly foe to turn and meet him, but got no response, nor caught another glimpse of the giant or his prey. In his vain pursuit he met, without knowing them, Ferro, Floris Mount, King Gradasso, Orlando, and many others, all of whom had been entrapped like himself into this enchanted castle. It was a new stratagem of the magician Atlantis to draw Roger O into his power, and to secure also those who might by any chance endanger his safety. What Roger O had taken for Bradamante was mere phantom. That charming lady was far away, full of anxiety for her Roger O, whose coming she had long expected. The emperor had committed to her charge, the city and garrison of Moussay, and she held the post against the infidels with valor and discretion. One day Melissa suddenly presented herself before her. Anticipating her questions, she said, "'Fear not for Roger O. He lives and is as ever true to you, but he has lost his liberty. The fell enchanter has again succeeded in making him a prisoner. If you would deliver him, mount your horse and follow me." She told her in what manner Atlantis had deceived Roger O in diluting his eyes with the phantom of herself in peril. Such, she continued, will be his arts in your own case if you penetrate the forest and approach that castle. You will think you behold Roger O when in fact you see only the enchanter himself. Be not deceived. Plunge your sword into his body and trust me when I tell you that, in slaying him, you will restore not only Roger O, but with him many of the bravest knights of France, whom the wizard's arts have withdrawn from the camp of their sovereign. Bradamante promptly armed herself and mounted her horse. Melissa led her by forced journeys, by field and forest, beguiling the way with conversation on the theme which interested her hearer most. When at last they reached the forest, she repeated once more her instructions and then took her leave for fear the enchanter might aspire her and be put on his guard. Bradamante rode on about two miles when suddenly she beheld Roger O as it appeared to her, hard-pressed by two fierce giants. While she hesitated, she heard his voice calling on her for help. At once the cautions of Melissa lost their weight. A sudden doubt of the faith and truth of her kind to monatress flashed across her mind. Shall I not believe my own eyes and ears? She said and rushed forward to his defense. Roger O fled, pursued by the giants and Bradamante followed, passing with them through the castle gate. When there, Bradamante was undeceived for neither giant nor knight was to be seen. She found herself a prisoner but had not the consolation of knowing that she shared the imprisonment of her beloved. She saw various forms of men and women but could recognize none of them and their lot was the same with respect to her. Each viewed the other under some illusion of the fancy wearing the semblance of giants, dwarfs or even four-footed animals so that there was no companionship or communication between them. End of section 10, recording by Eric Segovis, Little Rock.