peedily
made his appearance, a personage of a gallant and fiery bearing, clad in
a surcoat white as snow, with a white streamer for a crest. He seemed
more bent on having the way cleared before him than anxious about the
manner of it; so couching his lance as he came, while Sacripant did the
like with his, he dashed upon the Circassian with such violence as to
cast him on the ground; and though his own horse slipped at the same
time, he had it up again in an instant with his spurs; and so,
continuing his way, was a mile off before the Saracen recovered from his
astonishment.

As the stunned and stupid ploughman, who has been stretched by a
thunderbolt beside his slain oxen, raises himself from the ground after
the lofty crash, and looks with astonishment at the old pine-tree near
him which has been stripped from head to foot, with just such amazement
the Circassian got up from his downfall, and stood in the presence of
Angelica, who had witnessed it. Never in his life had he blushed so red
as at that moment.

Angelica comforted him in sorry fashion, attributing the disaster to his
tired and ill-fed horse, and observing that his enemy had chosen to risk
no second encounter; but, while she was talking, a messenger, with an
appearance of great fatigue and anxiety, came riding up, who asked
Sacripant if he had seen a knight in a white surcoat and crest.

"He has this instant," answered the king, "overthrown me, and galloped
away. Who is he?"

"It is no _he_," replied the messenger. "The rider who has overthrown
you, and thus taken possession of whatever glory you may have acquired,
is a damsel; and she is still more beautiful than brave. Bradalnante is
her illustrious name." And with these words the horseman set spurs to
his horse, and left the Saracen more miserable than before. He mounted
Angelica's horse without a word, his own having been disabled; and so,
taking her up behind him, proceeded on the road in continued silence.[5]

They had just gone a couple of miles, when they again heard a noise, as
of some powerful body in haste; and in a little while, a horse without a
rider came rushing towards them, in golden trappings. It was Rinaldo's
horse, Bayardo.[6] The Circassian, dismounting, thought to seize it,
but was welcomed with a curvet, which made him beware how he hazarded
something worse. The horse then went straight to Angelica in a way as
caressing as a dog; for he remembered how she fed him in Albracca at t