t hung over his
shoulder, he flung the fainting Amata, whom he took to be quite expired,
into the stream that ran hard by, and fled to his cave, not daring once
to cast his eyes behind him.

The good Benefico perceiving the monster's flight, and not doubting but
he had been perpetrating some horrid mischief, immediately hastened
to the brook; where he found the half-expiring Amata floating down
the stream, for her clothes had yet borne her up on the surface of the
water. He speedily stepped in and drew her out, and taking her in his
arms, pressed her to his warm bosom; and in a short space perceiving
in her face the visible marks of returning life, his heart swelled with
kind compassion, and he thus bespoke the tender maid: 'Unhappy damsel,
lift up thy gentle eyes, and tell me by what hard fate thou hast fallen
into the power of that barbarous monster, whose savage nature delights
in nothing but ruin and desolation. Tremble not thus, but without fear
or terror behold one who joys in the thought of having saved thee from
destruction, and will bring thee every comfort his utmost power can
procure.'

The gentle Amata was now just enough recovered to open her eyes: but
finding herself in a giant's arms, and still retaining in her mind the
frightful image of the horrid Barbarico, she fetched a deep sigh, crying
out in broken accents, 'Fly, Fidus, fly;' and again sunk down upon the
friendly giant's breast. On hearing these words, and plainly seeing by
the anguish of her mind that some settled grief was deeply rooted at her
heart, and therefore despairing to bring her to herself immediately, the
kind Benefico hastened with her to his hospitable castle; where every
imaginable assistance was administered to her relief, in order to
recover her lost sense, and to reconcile her to her wretched fate.

The cruel Barbarico was no sooner arrived at his gloomy cave, than he
called to him his little page; who, trembling to hear the tyrant now
again returned, quickly drew near to attend his stern commands: when
drawing out of the wallet the poor Fidus, more dead than alive, the
monster cried out, 'Here, caitiff, take in charge this smoothed-faced
miscreant; and, d'ye hear me? see that his allowance be no more than one
small ounce of mouldy bread and half a pint of standing water, for each
day's support, till his now blooming skin be withered, his flesh be
wasted from his bones, and he dwindle to a meagre skeleton.' So saying
he left th