e
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 love for
Rinaldo 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 sea-side, and embarked on board a pinnace
for France. The vessel arrived safely, and the travellers, disembarking
in Provence, pursued their way by land. One day, heated and weary, they
sought shelter from the sun in the forest of Arden, and chance directed
Angelica to the fountain of Disdain, of whose waters she eagerly drank.

Issuing thence, the Count and damsel encountered a stranger-knight. It
was no other than Rinaldo, 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 new found 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 plain 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 Namo, 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 her lovers, mounted a swift palfrey and plunged into the forest,
rejoicing, in spite of her terror, at having regained her liberty. She
stopped at last in a tufted 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 Rinaldo, and overcome by fatigue and the s