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The Emperor might perhaps that night have crushed his enemy entirely;
but not thinking it prudent to expose his troops, fatigued as they
were, to an attack upon a camp so well fortified, he contented himself
with encompassing the enemy with his troops, prepared to make a regular
siege. During the night the Moors had time to see the extent of their
loss. Their tents resounded with lamentations. This warrior had to
mourn a brother, that a friend; many suffered with grievous wounds, all
trembled at the fate in store for them.
There were two young Moors, both of humble rank, who gave proof at that
discovered that his suspicions were well founded. He also learned what
course to pursue. He was directed to raise the stone which served as a
threshold, under which a spirit lay pent, who would willingly escape,
and leave the castle free of access. Astolpho applied his strength to
lift aside the stone. Thereupon the magician put his arts in force. The
castle was full of prisoners, and the magician caused that to all of
them Astolpho should appear in some false guise--to some a wild beast,
to others a giant, to others a bird of prey. Thus all assailed him, and
would quickly have made an end of him, if he had not bethought him of
his horn. No sooner had he blown a blast than, at the horrid larum,
time of attachment and fidelity rare in the history of man. Cloridan
and Medoro had followed their prince, Dardinel, to the wars of France.
Cloridan, a bold huntsman, combined strength with activity. Medoro was
a mere youth, his cheeks yet fair and blooming. Of all the Saracens, no
one united so much grace and beauty. His light hair was set off by his
black and sparkling eyes. The two friends were together on guard at the
rampart. About midnight they gazed on the scene in deep dejection.
Medoro, with tears in his eyes, spoke of the good prince Dardinel, and
could not endure the thought that his body should be cast out on the
plain, deprived of funeral honors. "O my friend," said he, "must then
The two young Moors might have penetrated even to the tent of
Charlemagne; but knowing that the paladins encamped around him kept
watch by turns, and judging that it was impossible they should all be
asleep, they were afraid to go too near. They might also have obtained
rich booty; but, intent only on their object, they crossed the camp,
and arrived at length at the bloody field, where bucklers, lances, and
swords lay scattered in the midst of corpses of poor and rich, common
soldier and prince, horses and pools of blood. This terrible scene of
carnage would have destroyed all hope of finding what they were in
search of until dawn of day, were it not that the moon lent the aid of
guilty. The man replied that the prisoner was a murderer, by whose hand
Pinabel, the son of Count Anselm, had been treacherously slain. At
these words the prisoner exclaimed, "I am no murderer, nor have I been
in any way the cause of the young man's death." Orlando, knowing the
cruel and ferocious character of the chiefs of the house of Maganza,
needed no more to satisfy him that the youth was the victim of
injustice. He commanded the leader of the troop to release his victim,
and, receiving an insolent reply, dashed him to the earth with a stroke
of his lance; then by a few vigorous blows dispersed the band, leaving
deadly marks on those who were slowest to quit the field.
