ounsel of Melissa, and, trembling
though he was, he greeted her with fair words.

Dreading lest he should again fall under the fairy's enchantments, Roger
never parted from the ring, and kept guard over himself, lest perchance
Alcina should guess what was passing within him. To gain possession of
his armour, long laid aside, he feigned a wish to prove if his life of
idleness had unfitted him to bear the weight of it, or if his chest had
grown too broad for the clasps of his breast-plate to meet. Then,
laughing still, he strolled carelessly to the stables, calling back as
he went that perhaps his horse might have become as fat and lazy as
himself. But when he reached the stables he passed by the winged steed
which had borne him to the island, for he bethought himself once more of
Melissa's words: 'Beware of the hippogryph,' she had said, 'you will
never wed Bradamante if you mount that.' So he left the great creature
flapping its wings with longing to soar once more into the sky, and led
out a strong black horse. Vaulting on his back, he touched him with his
spurs, and dashed through the guards at the gate before Alcina knew that
her captive had won his freedom.

When the fairy found that the knight did not return, she sent a
messenger for tidings of him, and so great was her wrath when she
learned that he had passed the gate, and was far on the road to her
sister, the good Logistilla, that she ordered all the guards to be put
to death. Then she commanded her ships to be got ready, and put to sea
herself, thinking by that means she might bring him back. But all was
vain, and at last she was forced to believe that Roger had shaken off
her yoke for ever.

[From _Orlando Furioso_.]

_THE FULFILLING OF THE PROPHECY_

For a long while Bradamante waited quietly in Marseilles, thinking that
every day Roger would come to her, but as time passed and he gave no
sign she grew heart-sick and impatient. Some evil must surely have
befallen him, she whispered to herself, yet where to seek him she did
not know.

At length one morning, when hope had almost left her, the enchantress
Melissa stood by her side and smiled at her.

'Have no fear for Roger,' said Melissa; 'he is safe, and counts the
hours to your meeting. But once more he has been taken captive by
Atlantes, who ensnared him by putting on your form and face, and
entering his palace, whither Roger followed eagerly. Never look so cast
down, Bradamante, but listen