"Eternal providence, exceeding thought,
Where none appears, can make herself a way."
And a wondrous way in this case it proved.
Far off in the wood, a troop of Fauns and Satyrs, wild, untamed inhabitants of deepest forests, were dancing, whilst old Sylvanus, their god, lay sleeping. These, hearing Una's cry, left their sport, and, running towards the spot from which the cry had come, appeared suddenly on the scene.
They were a rude, misshapen, even frightful-looking crowd, and Sansloy, like the wicked knight that he was, seized with superstitious fears, took fright and fled. But, when the Satyrs beheld Una all alone, sad and desolate, her fair face stained with tears, they stood still before her, astonished at her beauty, and pitiful of her distress. And she, more amazed than they, began to fear and tremble afresh, for wild stories were told of the Satyrs and of their lawless deeds. And it seemed to her that a worse lot than ever before had now befallen her. So fearful was she that she dared neither speak nor move.
The wild people read Una's sorrow in her sad countenance, and, laying aside the rough, frowning looks they usually wore, began to grin and smile and bend their knees before her, trying thus to comfort her. Uncertain whether or not she dare trust herself to them, Una stood irresolute. They, as they watched her, were overcome by pity of her tender youth and wonder at her sovereign beauty, and prostrating themselves on the ground, kissed her feet and fawned upon her with their most kindly looks.
Then Una, guessing their hearts aright, gave herself up to their care, and, rising, went fearlessly among them. Glad as birds in the joyous spring-time, they led her forth dancing, shouting, singing, and strewing green branches before her. All the way they played on their merry pipes, until the woods rang with their echo; and, worshipping the lady as a queen, they crowned her with an olive garland and led her to Sylvanus, their god.
He had wondered at the sounds of rejoicing which had roused him from his sleep, but when, leaning on his cypress staff, he came forth from his bower and saw Una, he stood amazed and wondered not when his wood-born subjects fell prostrate before her.
And then came tree-nymphs and light-footed Naiads, flocking to see the new-comer. But when they saw how fair and good she was, sharp envy seized upon them, and they fled away lest the Satyrs, in their new-born reverence for Una, should scorn their ancient playmates.
So Una, thankful for the favour she found and the respect shown to her, remained a long time among this forest people, and rested from her weariness. In return for their hospitality, she tried to teach them something of truth, and to prevent their worship of herself, but it was in vain, for when they found they might not worship the lady, they turned to the milk-white ass, her lowly steed, and worshipped it in her stead.
One day there came to the forest a certain Sir Satyrane, a noble knight who had been born in these woods, and who was in the habit of revisiting them from time to time. Now, when he came unexpectedly on this fair lady sitting among the Satyrs and endeavouring to teach them true sacred lore, he wondered at her heavenly wisdom, the like of which he had never before seen in woman. And when he watched her courteous deeds and heard the story of her sad misfortunes, his wonder changed into admiration, and he became her scholar and learned of her "the discipline of truth and faith."