A hundred horsemen who the youth surround, Zerbino leads, and bids his followers seize The stripling; like a top, the boy turns round And keeps him as he can: among the trees, Behind oak, elm, beech, ash, he takes his ground, Nor from the cherished load his shoulders frees. Wearied, at length, the burden he bestowed Upon the grass, and stalked about his load. Cloridan, who to aid him knows not how, And with Medoro willingly would die, But who would not for death this being forego, Until more foes than one should lifeless lie, Ambushed, his sharpest arrow to his bow Fits, and directs it with so true an eye, The feathered weapon bores a Scotchman's brain, And lays the warrior dead upon the plain. Enraged at this, Zerbino leaps forward to wreak revenge on Medoro, but he, begging to be allowed to bury his master so touches Zerbino with his youthful beauty that he is inclined to spare him, and one of his own followers smiting Medoro, who stands in suppliant attitude, Zerbino, in a rage, pursues him and followed by his companions, disappears, leaving Cloridan dead and Medoro gravely wounded. In the meantime-- By chance arrived a damsel at the place, Who was (though mean and rustic was her wear) Of royal presence and of beauteous face, And lofty manners, sagely debonair: Her have I left unsung so long a space, That you will hardly recognize the fair. Angelica, in her (if known not) scan, The lofty daughter of Cathay's great khan. This is Angelica, who having despised the love of Orlando, now finally meets her fate in the person of Medoro: When fair Angelica the stripling spies, Nigh hurt to death in that disastrous fray, Who for his king, that there unsheltered lies, More sad than for his own misfortune lay, She feels new pity in her bosom rise, Which makes its entry in unwonted way. Touched was her haughty heart, once hard and curst, And more when he his piteous tale rehearsed. And calling back to memory her art, For she in Ind had learned chirurgery, (Since it appears such studies in that part Worthy of praise and fame are held to be, And, as an heirloom, sires to sons impart, With little aid of books, the mystery) Disposed herself to work with simples' juice, Till she in him should healthier life produce. She succeeds in curing him, and falling desperately in love, marries him and departs for Cathay, of which she designs making her husband king. After some time Orlando comes that way and finds engraved on trees in love-knots and intertwined names, the evidence of the love of Angelica and Medoro: