beauty celestial; sweetness and goodness reigned in her lovely
countenance. It was no other than Angelica, the Princess of Cathay.

When she had recovered that precious ring, as we have before related,
Angelica, knowing its value, felt proud in the power it conferred,
travelled alone without fear, not without a secret shame that she had
ever been obliged to seek protection in her wanderings of the Count
Orlando and of Sacripant. She reproached herself too as with a weakness
that she had ever thought of marrying Rinaldo; in fine, her pride grew
so high as to persuade her that no man living was worthy to aspire to
her hand.

Moved with pity at the sight of the young man wounded, and melted to
tears at hearing the cause, she quickly recalled to remembrance the
knowledge she had acquired in India, where the virtues of plants and
the art of healing formed part of the education even of princesses. The
beautiful queen ran into the adjoining meadow to gather plants of
virtue to staunch the flow of blood. Meeting on her way a countryman on
horseback seeking a strayed heifer, she begged him to come to her
assistance, and endeavor to remove the wounded man to a more secure
asylum.

Angelica, having prepared the plants by bruising them between two
stones, laid them with her fair hand on Medoro's wound. The remedy soon
restored in some degree the strength of the wounded man, who, before he
would quit the spot, made them cover with earth and turf the bodies of
his friend and of the prince. Then surrendering himself to the pity of
his deliverers, he allowed them to place him on the horse of the
shepherd, and conduct him to his cottage. It was a pleasant farmhouse
on the borders of the wood, bearing marks of comfort and competency.
There the shepherd lived with his wife and children. There Angelica
tended Medoro, and there, by the devoted care of the beautiful queen,
his sad wound closed over, and he recovered his perfect health.

O Count Rinaldo, O King Sacripant! what availed it you to possess so
many virtues and such fame? What advantage have you derived from all
your high deserts? O hapless king, great Agrican! if you could return
to life, how would you endure to see yourself rejected by one who will
bow to the yoke of Hymen in favor of a young soldier of humble birth?
And thou, Ferrau, and ye numerous others who a hundred times have put
your lives at hazard for this cruel beauty, how bitter will it be to
you to see her sacrifi