"Hold!" cried the youth, as loud as want of breath could let him; "you
loved my father--I'm Bujaforte."

The Paladin had never seen Bujaforte; but he saw the likeness to the
good old Man of the Mountain, his father; and he let go the youth's
hair, and embraced and kissed him. "O Bujaforte!" said he; "I loved him
indeed my good old man; but what does his son do here, fighting against
his friend?"

Bujaforte was a long time before he could speak for weeping. At length
he said, "Orlando, let not your noble heart be pained with ill thoughts
of my father's son. I am forced to be here by my lord and master
Marsilius. I had no friend left me in the world, and he took me into his
court, and has brought me here before I knew what it was for; and I have
made a shew of fighting, but have not hurt a single Christian. Treachery
is on every side of you. Baldwin himself has a vest given him by
Marsilius, that every body may know the son of his friend Gan, and do
him no injury. See there--look how the lances avoid him."

"Put your helmet on again," said Orlando, "and behave just as you have
done. Never will your father's friend be an enemy to the son. Only take
care not to come across Rinaldo."

The hero then turned in fury to look for Baldwin, who was hastening
towards him at that moment with friendliness in his looks.

"'Tis strange," said Baldwin; "I have done my duty as well as I could,
yet no body will come against me. I have slain right and left, and
cannot comprehend what it is that makes the stoutest infidels avoid me."