鲁杰罗，为了使英国东道主吃惊，在他们的队伍中唤醒更多的惊奇，他的带翅膀的马的缰绳松开了，他的马刺拍了拍动物的侧翼;在高空中，甚至是云层的最顶端，把飞马连根拔起，一会儿越过威尔士，一会儿越过马恩岛，一会儿越过大海，直到远处闪烁着爱尔兰翠绿的海岸。他在海伯尼亚传说中的王国周围航行，在那里，老圣人离开了神圣的洞穴，寻找它所吹嘘的著名的美德来净化罪恶的来访者并拯救他们。从那里，鲁杰罗越过陆地和海浪，回到了蓝色的激流流淌的地方，来到了小布列塔尼的海岸，当他来回航行时，他往下看，看见安吉莉卡被锁在下面的岩石上。那是在抱怨岛上——名字很好，因为在那荒凉的海岸上，有一群野蛮的人，残忍而不驯服，带来了许多可恨的战争的丰厚战利品。为了喂养一个折磨着她们的怪物，她们美丽的女士们最可爱的闪耀，温柔的少女们最温柔的生下，然后，淹没在泪水和可怜的呻吟中，留给那只贪婪的野兽，独自被锁在岩石上。在巫师的魔法下，安吉莉卡从最无辜的梦中醒来(正如故事的另一部分所提到的)，成为那件悲伤事件的受害者。美是如此稀有，出身是如此卓越，使甜美的美更加可爱的眼泪，也不能使人们改变他们的刻薄意图。唉，什么样的性情会如此恶毒，怜悯不能打动人，爱情的温柔却能打动人?在海洋边缘冰冷的花岗岩上，这些人用铁链把船拴牢，然后走了; Fresh in the softness of each delicate limb The pity of their bruising violence lay. Over her beauty, from the eye of day To hide its pleading charms, no veil was thrown. Only the fragments of the salt sea-spray Rose from the churning of the waves, wind-blown, To dash upon a whiteness creamier than their own. Carved out of candid marble without flaw, Or alabaster blemishless and rare, Ruggiero might have fancied what he saw, For statue-like it seemed, and fastened there By craft of cunningest artificer; Save in the wistful eyes Ruggiero thought A teardrop gleamed, and with the rippling hair The ocean breezes played as if they sought In its loose depths to hide that which her hand might not. Pity and wonder and awakening love Strove in the bosom of the Moorish Knight. Down from his soaring in the skies above He urged the tenor of his courser's flight. Fairer with every foot of lessening height Shone the sweet prisoner. With tightening reins He drew more nigh, and gently as he might: "O lady, worthy only of the chains With which his bounden slaves the God of Love constrains, "And least for this or any ill designed, Oh, what unnatural and perverted race Could the sweet flesh with flushing stricture bind, And leave to suffer in this cold embrace That the warm arms so hunger to replace?" Into the damsel's cheeks such color flew As by the alchemy of ancient days If whitest ivory should take the hue Of coral where it blooms deep in the liquid blue. Nor yet so tightly drawn the cruel chains Clasped the slim ankles and the wounded hands, But with soft, cringing attitudes in vain She strove to shield her from that ardent glance. So, clinging to the walls of some old manse, The rose-vine strives to shield her tender flowers, When the rude wind, as autumn weeks advance, Beats on the walls and whirls about the towers And spills at every blast her pride in piteous showers. And first for choking sobs she might not speak, And then, "Alas!" she cried, "ah, woe is me!" And more had said in accents faint and weak, Pleading for succor and sweet liberty. But hark! across the wide ways of the sea Rose of a sudden such a fierce affray That any but the brave had turned to flee. Ruggiero, turning, looked. To his dismay, Lo, where the monster came to claim his quivering prey!