sleeper. He woke up; and seeing who it was, not only received her
salutations with a change of countenance, but remounting his horse,
galloped away through the thickest part of the forest. In vain the
beautiful creature followed and called after him; in vain asked him what
she had done to be so despised, and entreated him, at any rate, to take
care how he went so fast. Rinaldo disappeared, leaving her to wring her
hands in despair; and she returned in tears to the spot on which she had
found him sleeping. There, in her turn, she herself lay down, pressing
the spot of earth on which he had lain; and so, weeping and lamenting,
yet blessing every flower and bit of grass that he had touched, fell
asleep out of fatigue and sorrow.

As Angelica thus lay, the good or bad fortune of Orlando conducted him to
the same place. The attitude in which she was sleeping was so lovely
that it is not even to be conceived, much less expressed. The very grass
seemed to flower on all sides of her for joy; and the stream, as it
murmured along, to go talking of love.[8] Orlando stood gazing like a man
who had been transported to another sphere. "Am I on earth," thought he,
"or am I in paradise? Surely it is I myself that am sleeping, and this is
my dream."

But his dream was proved to be none, in a manner which he little desired.
Ferragus, who had slain Argalia, came up raging with jealousy, and a
combat ensued which awoke the sleeper. Terrified at what she beheld, she
rushed to her palfrey; and while the fighters were occupied with one
another, fled away through the forest.

Fast fled the beauty in the direction taken by Rinaldo; nor did she
cease travelling, by one conveyance or another, till she reached her own
country, whither she had sent Malagigi. Him she freed from his prison,