stressed herself with doubts what could be the
cause of his absence. Of all fancies, the most painful one was that he
had gone away to learn to forget her, knowing her father's and her
mother's opposition to their union, and despairing to contend against
them. But oh, how much worse would be the maiden's woe, if it were
known to her what her betrothed was then enduring!

He was plunged in a dungeon where no ray of daylight ever penetrated,
loaded with chains, and scantily supplied with the coarsest food. No
wonder despair took possession of his heart, and he longed for death as
a relief, when one night (or one day, for both were equally dark to
him) he was roused with the glare of a torch and saw two men enter his
cell. It was the Prince Leo, with an attendant, who had come as soon as
he had learned the wretched fate of the brave knight whose valor he had
seen and admired on the field of battle. "Cavalier," said he, "I am one
whom thy valor hath so bound to thee, that I willingly peril my own
safety to lend thee aid." "Infinite thanks I owe you," replied Rogero,
"and the life you give me I promise faithfully to render back upon your
call, and promptly to stake it at all times for your service." The
prince then told Rogero his name and rank, at hearing which a tide of
contending emotions almost overwhelmed Rogero. He was set at liberty,
and had his horse and arms restored to him.

Meanwhile, tidings arrived of King Charles' decree that whoever aspired
to the hand of Bradamante must first encounter her with sword and
lance. This news made the Grecian prince turn pale, for he knew he was
no match for her in fight. Communing with himself, he sees how he may
make his wit supply the place of valor, and employ the French knight,
whose name was still unknown to him, to fight the battle for him.
Rogero heard the proposal with extreme distress; yet it seemed worse
than death to deny the first request of one to whom he owed his life.
Hastily he gave his assent "to do in all things that which Leo should
command." Afterward, bitter repentance came over him; yet, rather than
confess his change of mind, death itself would be welcome. Death seems
his only remedy; but how to die? Sometimes he thinks to make none but a
feigned resistance, and allow her sword a ready access, for never can
death come more happily than if her hand guide the weapon. Yet this
will not avail, for, unless he wins the maid for the Greek prince, his
debt remains