ummer heat, she saw with
delight a bank covered with flowers so thick that they almost hid the
green turf, inviting her to alight and rest. She dismounted from her
palfrey, and turned him loose to recruit his strength with the tender
grass which bordered the streamlets. Then, in a sheltered nook
tapestried with moss and fenced in with roses and hawthorn-flowers, she
yielded herself to grateful repose.

She had not slept long when she was awakened by the noise made by the
approach of a horse. Starting up, she saw an armed 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, mingled with deep sighs. Rivers of tears flowed down his
cheeks, and his breast seemed to labor with a hidden flame. "Ah, vain
regrets!" he exclaimed; "cruel fortune! others triumph, while I endure
hopeless misery! Better a thousand times to lose life, than wear a
chain so disgraceful and so oppressive!"

Angelica by this time had recognized the stranger, and perceived that
it was Sacripant, king of Circassia, 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 Paladin Orlando, and that the Emperor
had announced his decree to award her as the prize of valor to that one
of his nephews who should best deserve her.

As Sacripant continued to lament, Angelica, who had always opposed the
hardness of marble to his sighs, 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 in 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 horse