East.

It was a long journey, and she saw many places and people, and was now
hidden and now seen, like the moon, till she calve one day into a forest
near the walls of Paris, where she beheld a youth lying wounded on the
grass, between two companions that were dead.

Part the Second.

ANGELICA AND MEDORO.

Now, in order to understand who the youth was that Angelica found lying
on the grass between the two dead companions, and how he came to be so
lying, you must know that a great battle had been fought there between
Charlemagne and the Saracens, in which the latter were defeated, and that
these three people belonged to the Saracens. The two that were slain were
Dardinel, king of Zumara, and Cloridan, one of his followers; and the
wounded survivor was another, whose name was Medoro. Cloridan and Medoro
had been loving and grateful servants of Dardinel, and very fast friends
of one another; such friends, indeed, that on their own account, as well
as in honour of what they did for their master, their history deserves a
particular mention.

They were of a lowly stock on the coast of Syria, and in all the various
fortunes of their lord had shewn him a special attachment. Cloridan had
been bred a huntsman, and was the robuster person of the two. Medoro was
in the first bloom of youth, with a complexion rosy and fair, and a most
pleasant as well as beautiful countenance. He had black eyes, and hair
that ran into curls of gold; in short, looked like a very angel from
heaven.

These two were keeping anxious watch upon the trenches of the defeated
army, when Medoro, unable to cease thinking of the master who had been
left dead on the field, told his friend that he could no longer delay to
go and look for his dead body, and bury it. "You," said he, "will remain,
and so be able to do justice to my memory, in case I fail."

Cloridan, though he delighted in this proof of his friend's
noble-heartedness, did all he could to dissuade him from so perilous an
enterprise; but Medoro, in the fervour of his gratitude for benefits
conferred on him by his lord, was immovable in his determination to die
or to succeed; and Cloridan, seeing this, determined to go with him.

They took their way accordingly out of the Saracen camp, and in a short
time found themselves in that of the enemy. The Christians had been
drinking over-night for joy at their victory, and were buried in wine and
sleep. Cloridan halted a moment, and said in a whisp