HUON OF BORDEAUX.
It is supposed that this _chanson de geste_ was first composed in the
thirteenth century; but the version which has come down to us must have
been written shortly before the discovery of printing. Although this poem
was deservedly a favorite composition during the middle ages, no manuscript
copy of it now exists. Such was the admiration that it excited that Lord
Berners translated it into English under Henry VIII. In modern times it has
been the theme of Wieland's finest poem, and of one of Weber's operas, both
of which works are known by the title of "Oberon." It is from this work
that Shakespeare undoubtedly drew some of the principal characters for his
"Midsummer-Night's Dream," where Oberon, king of the fairies, plays no
unimportant part.
[Sidenote: Charlot slain by Huon.] The hero of this poem, Huon of Bordeaux,
and his brother Girard, were on their way from Guienne to Paris to do
homage to Charlemagne for their estates. Charlot, the monarch's eldest son,
who bears a very unenviable reputation in all the mediaeval poems,
treacherously waylaid the brothers, intending to put them both to death. He
attacked them separately; but, after slaying Girard, was himself slain by
Huon, who, quite unconscious of the illustrious birth of his assailant,
calmly proceeded on his way.
The rumor of the prince's death soon followed Huon to court, and
Charlemagne, incensed, vowed that he would never pardon him until he had
proved his loyalty and repentance by journeying to Bagdad, where he was to
cut off the head of the great bashaw, to kiss the Sultan's daughter, and
whence he was to bring back a lock of that mighty potentate's gray beard
and four of his best teeth.
"'Yet hear the terms; hear what no earthly power
Shall ever change!' He spoke, and wav'd below
His scepter, bent in anger o'er my brow.--
'Yes, thou may'st live;--but, instant, from this hour,
Away! in exile rove far nations o'er;
Thy foot accurs'd shall tread this soil no more,
Till thou, in due obedience to my will
Shalt, point by point, the word I speak fulfill;
Thou diest, if this unwrought thou touch thy native shore.
"'Go hence to Bagdad; in high festal day
At his round table, when the caliph, plac'd
In stately pomp, with splendid emirs grac'd,
Enjoys the banquet rang'd in proud array,
Slay him who lies the monarch's left beside,
Dash from his headless trunk the purple tide.
Then to the right draw near; with courtly grace
The beauteous heiress of his throne embrace;
And thrice with public kiss salute her as thy bride.
"'And while the caliph, at the monstrous scene,
Such as before ne'er shock'd a caliph's eyes,
Stares at thy confidence in mute surprise,
Then, as the Easterns wont, with lowly mien
Fall on the earth before his golden throne,
And gain (a trifle, proof of love alone)
That it may please him, gift of friend to friend,
Four of his grinders at my bidding send,
And of his beard a lock with silver hair o'ergrown."
WIELAND. _Oberon_ (Sotheby's tr.).
[Illustration: HUON BEFORE THE POPE--Gabriel Max.]
[Sidenote: Huon's quest.] Huon regretfully, left his native land to begin
this apparently hopeless quest; and, after visiting his uncle, the Pope, in
Rome, he tried to secure heavenly assistance by a pilgrimage to the holy
sepulcher. Then he set out for Babylon, or Bagdad, for, with the visual
mediaeval scorn for geography, evinced in all the _chansons de gestes_,
these are considered interchangeable names for the same town. As the hero
was journeying towards his goal by way of the Red Sea, it will not greatly
surprise the modern reader to hear that he lost his way and came to a
pathless forest. Darkness soon overtook him, and Huon was blindly stumbling
forward, leading his weary steed by the bridle, when he perceived a light,
toward which he directed his way.
"Not long his step the winding way pursued,
When on his wistful gaze, to him beseems,
The light of distant fire delightful gleams.
His cheek flash'd crimson as the flame he view'd.
Half wild with hope and fear, he rushed to find
In these lone woods some glimpse of human kind,
And, ever and anon, at once the ray
Flash'd on his sight, then sunk at once away,
While rose and fell the path as hill and valley wind."
WIELAND, _Oberon_ (Sotheby's tr.).
[Sidenote: Sherasmin.] Huon at last reached a cave, and found a gigantic
old man all covered with hair, which was his sole garment. After a few
moments' fruitless attempt at conversation in the language of the country,
Huon impetuously spoke a few words in his mother tongue. Imagine his
surprise when the uncouth inhabitant of the woods answered him fluently,
and when he discovered, after a few rapid questions, that the man was
Sherasmin (Gerasmes), an old servant of his father's! This old man had
escaped from the hands of his Saracen captors, and had taken refuge in
these woods, where he had already dwelt many years. After relating his
adventures, Huon entreated Sherasmin to point out the nearest way to
Bagdad, and learned with surprise that there were two roads, one very long
and comparatively safe, even for an inexperienced traveler, and the other
far shorter, but leading through an enchanted forest, where countless
dangers awaited the venturesome traveler.
The young knight of course decided to travel along the most perilous way;
and, accompanied by Sherasmin, who offered his services as guide, he set
out early upon the morrow to continue his quest. On the fourth day of their
journey they saw a Saracen struggling single-handed against a band of
Arabs, whom Huon soon put to flight with a few well directed strokes from
his mighty sword.
After resting a few moments, Huon bade Sherasmin lead the way into the
neighboring forest, although his guide and mentor again strove to dissuade
him from crossing it by explaining that the forest was haunted by a goblin
who could change men into beasts. The hero, who was on his way to insult
the proudest ruler on earth, was not to be deterred by a goblin; and as
Sherasmin still refused to enter first, Huon plunged boldly into the
enchanted forest. Sherasmin followed him reluctantly, finding cause for
alarm in the very silence of the dense shade, and timorously glancing from
side to side in the gloomy recesses, where strange forms seemed to glide
noiselessly about.
"Meanwhile the wand'ring travelers onward go
Unawares within the circuit of a wood,
Whose mazy windings at each step renew'd,
In many a serpent-fold, twin'd to and fro,
So that our pair to lose themselves were fain."
WIELAND, _Oberon_ (Sotheby's tr.).
[Sidenote: Meeting with Oberon.] The travelers lost their way entirely as
they penetrated farther into the forest, and they came at last to a little
glade, where, resting under the spreading branches of a mighty oak, they
were favored with the vision of a castle. Its golden portals opened wide to
permit of the egress of Oberon, king of the fairies, the son of Julius
Caesar and Morgana the fay. He came to them in the radiant guise of the god
of love, sitting in a chariot of silver, drawn by leopards.
Sherasmin, terrified at the appearance of this radiant creature, and under
the influence of wild, unreasoning fear, seized the bridle of his master's
steed and dragged him into the midst of the forest, in spite of all his
remonstrances. At last he paused, out of breath, and thought himself safe
from further pursuit; but he was soon made aware of the goblin's wrath by
the sudden outbreak of a frightful storm.
"A tempest, wing'd with lightning, storm, and rain,
O'ertakes our pair: around them midnight throws
Darkness that hides the world: it peels, cracks, blows,
As if the uprooted globe would split in twain;
The elements in wild confusion flung,
Each warr'd with each, as fierce from chaos sprung.
Yet heard from time to time amid the storm,
The gentle whisper of th' aërial form
Breath'd forth a lovely tone that died the gales among."
WIELAND, _Oberon_ (Sotheby's tr.).
All Sherasmin's efforts to escape from the spirit of the forest had been in
vain. Oberon's magic horn had called forth the raging tempest, and his
power suddenly stayed its fury as Huon and his companion overtook a company
of monks and nuns. These holy people had been celebrating a festival by a
picnic, and were now hastening home, drenched, bedraggled, and in a sorry
plight. They had scarcely reached the convent yard, however, where
Sherasmin fancied all would be quite safe from further enchantment, when
Oberon suddenly appeared in their midst like a brilliant meteor.
"At once the storm is fled; serenely mild
Heav'n smiles around, bright rays the sky adorn,
While beauteous as an angel newly born
Beams in the roseate dayspring, glow'd the child.
A lily stalk his graceful limbs sustain'd,
Round his smooth neck an ivory horn was chain'd;
Yet lovely as he was, on all around
Strange horror stole, for stern the fairy frown'd,
And o'er each sadden'd charm a sullen anger reign'd."
WIELAND, _Oberon_ (Sotheby's tr.).
[Sidenote: Oberon's aid promised.] The displeasure of the king of the
fairies had been roused by Huon and Sherasmin's discourteous flight, but he
merely vented his anger and showed his power by breathing a soft strain on
his magic horn. At the same moment, monks, nuns, and Sherasmin, forgetting
their age and calling, began to dance in the wildest abandon. Huon alone
remained uninfluenced by the music, for he had had no wish to avoid an
encounter with Oberon.
The king of the fairies now revealed to Huon that as his life had been pure
and his soul true, he would help him in his quest. Then, at a wave from the
lily wand the magic music ceased, and the charm was broken. Sherasmin was
graciously forgiven by Oberon, who, seeing the old man well-nigh exhausted,
offered him a golden beaker of wine, bidding him drink without fear. But
Sherasmin was of a suspicious nature, and it was only when he found that
the draught had greatly refreshed him that he completely dismissed his
fears.
[Sidenote: The magic horn.] After informing Huon that he was fully aware of
the peculiar nature of his quest, Oberon gave him the golden beaker,
assuring him that it would always be full of the richest wine for the
virtuous, but would burn the evil doer with a devouring fire. He also
bestowed his magic horn upon him, telling him that a gentle blast would
cause all the hearers to dance, while a loud one would bring to his aid the
king of the fairies himself.
"Does but its snail-like spiral hollow sing,
A lovely note soft swell'd with gentle breath,
Though thousand warriors threaten instant death,
And with advancing weapons round enring;
Then, as thou late hast seen, in restless dance
All, all must spin, and every sword and lance
Fall with th' exhausted warriors to the ground.
But if thou peal it with impatient sound,
I at thy call appear, more swift than lightning glance."
WIELAND, _Oberon_ (Sotheby's tr.).
Another wave of his lily wand, and Oberon disappeared, leaving a subtle
fragrance behind him; and had it not been for the golden beaker and the
ivory horn which he still held, Huon might have been tempted to consider
the whole occurrence a dream.
The journey to Bagdad was now resumed in a more hopeful spirit; and when
the travelers reached Tourmont they found that it was governed by one of
Huon's uncles, who, captured in his youth by the Saracens, had turned
Mussulman, and had gradually risen to the highest dignity. Seeing Huon
refresh some of the Christians of his household with a draught of wine from
the magic cup, he asked to be allowed to drink from it too. He had no
sooner taken hold of it, however, than he was unmercifully burned, for he
was a renegade, and the magic cup refreshed only the true believers.
Incensed at what he fancied a deliberate insult, the governor of Tourmont
planned to slay Huon at a great banquet. But the young hero defended
himself bravely, and, after slaying sundry assailants, disposed of the
remainder by breathing a soft note upon his magic horn, and setting them
all to dancing wildly, until they sank breathless and exhausted upon their
divans.
[Sidenote: The giant Angoulaffre.] As Huon had taken advantage of the spell
to depart and continue his journey, he soon reached the castle of the giant
Angoulaffre. The latter had stolen from Oberon a magic ring which made the
wearer invulnerable, and thus suffered him to commit countless crimes with
impunity. When Huon came near the castle he met an unfortunate knight who
imformed him that the giant detained his promised bride captive, together
with several other helpless damsels.
Like a true knight errant, Huon vowed to deliver these helpless ladies,
and, in spite of the armed guards at every doorway, he passed unmolested
into Angoulaffre's chamber. There he found the giant plunged in a lethargy,
but was rapturously welcomed by the knight's fair betrothed, who had long
sighed for a deliverer. In a few hurried sentences she told him that her
captor constantly forced his unwelcome attentions upon her; but that, owing
to the protection of the Virgin, a trance overtook him and made him
helpless whenever he tried to force her inclinations and take her to wife.
"'As oft the hateful battle he renews,
As oft the miracle his force subdues;
The ring no virtue boasts whene'er that sleep assails.'"
WIELAND, _Oberon_ (Sotheby's tr.).
Prompted by this fair princess, whose name was Angela, Huon secured the
ring, and donned a magic hauberk hanging near. But, as he scorned to take
any further advantage of a sleeping foe, he patiently awaited the giant's
awakening to engage in one of those combats which the mediaeval poets loved
to describe.
[Sidenote: Angela and Alexis.] Of course Huon was victorious, and after
slaying Angoulaffre, he restored the fair Angela to her lover, Alexis, and
gave a great banquet, which was attended by the fifty rescued damsels, and
by fifty knights who had come to help Alexis. Although this gay company
would fain have had him remain with them, Huon traveled on. When too
exhausted to continue his way, he again rested under a tree, where Oberon
caused a tent to be raised by invisible hands. Here Huon had a wonderful
dream, in which he beheld his future ladylove, and was warned of some of
the perils which still awaited him before he could claim her as his own.
The journey was then resumed, and when they reached the banks of the Red
Sea, Oberon sent one of his spirits, Malebron, to carry them safely over.
They traveled through burning wastes of sand, refreshed and strengthened by
occasional draughts from the magic goblet, and came at last to a forest,
where they saw a Saracen about to succumb beneath the attack of a monstrous
lion. Huon immediately flew to his rescue, slew the lion, and, having drunk
deeply from his magic cup, handed it to the Saracen, on whose lips the
refreshing wine turned to liquid flame.
"With evil eye, from Huon's courteous hand,
Filled to the brim, the heathen takes the bowl--
Back from his lip th' indignant bubbles roll!
The spring is dried, and hot as fiery brand,
Proof of internal guilt, the metal glows.
Far from his grasp the wretch the goblet throws,
Raves, roars, and stamps."
WIELAND, _Oberon_ (Sotheby's tr.).
With a blasphemous exclamation the Saracen flung aside the cup, and seeing
that his own steed had been slain by the lion, he sprang unceremoniously
upon Huon's horse, and rode rapidly away.
[Sidenote: Princess Rezia.] As there was but one mount left for them both,
Huon and Sherasmin were now obliged to proceed more slowly to Bagdad, where
they found every hostelry full, as the people were all coming thither to
witness the approaching nuptials of the princess, Rezia (Esclamonde), and
Babican, King of Hyrcania. Huon and Sherasmin, after a long search, finally
found entertainment in a little hut, where an old woman, the mother of the
princess's attendant, entertained them by relating that the princess was
very reluctant to marry. She also told them that Rezia had lately been
troubled by a dream, in which she had seen herself in the guise of a hind
and pursued through a pathless forest by Babican. In this dream she was
saved and restored to her former shape by a radiant little creature, who
rode in a glistening silver car, drawn by leopards. He was accompanied by a
fair-haired knight, whom he presented to her as her future bridegroom.
"The shadow flies; but from her heart again
He never fades--the youth with golden hair;
Eternally his image hovers there,
Exhaustless source of sweetly pensive pain,
In nightly visions, and in daydreams shown."
WIELAND, _Oberon_ (Sotheby's tr.).
Huon listened in breathless rapture, for he now felt assured that the
princess Rezia was the radiant creature he had seen in his dream, and that
Oberon intended them for each other. He therefore assured the old woman
that the princess should never marry the detested Babican. Then, although
Sherasmin pointed out to him that the way to a lady's favor seldom consists
in cutting off the head of her intended bridegroom, depriving her father of
four teeth and a lock of his beard, and kissing her without the usual
preliminary of "by your leave," the young hero persisted in his resolution
to visit the palace on the morrow.
[Sidenote: Oberon again to the rescue.] That selfsame night, Huon and Rezia
were again visited by sweet dreams, in which Oberon, their guardian spirit,
promised them his aid. While the princess was arraying herself for her
nuptials on the morrow, the old woman rushed into her apartment and
announced that a fair-haired knight, evidently the promised deliverer, had
slept in her humble dwelling the night before. Comforted by these tidings,
Rezia made a triumphant entrance into the palace hall, where her father,
the bridegroom, and all the principal dignitaries of the court, awaited her
appearance.
"Emirs and viziers, all the courtly crowd
Meantime attendant at the sultan's call,
With festal splendor grace the nuptial hall.
The banquet waits, the cymbals clang aloud.
The gray-beard caliph from his golden door
Stalks mid the slaves that fall his path before;
Behind, of stately gesture, proud to view,
The Druse prince, though somewhat pale of hue,
Comes as a bridegroom deck'd with jewels blazing o'er."
WIELAND, _Oberon_ (Sotheby's tr.).
In the mean while Huon, awaking at early dawn, found a complete suit of
Saracenic apparel at his bedside. He donned it joyfully, entered the palace
unchallenged, and passed into the banquet hall, where he perceived the
gray-bearded caliph, and recognized in the bridegroom at his left the
Saracen whom he had delivered from the lion, and who had so discourteously
stolen his horse.
[Sidenote: Huon's success.] One stride forward, a flash of his curved
scimitar, and the first part of Charlemagne's order was fulfilled, for the
Saracen's head rolled to the ground. The sudden movement caused Huon's
turban to fall off, however, and the princess, seated at the caliph's
right, gazed spellbound upon the knight, whose golden locks fell in rich
curls about his shoulders.
There are several widely different versions of this part of the story. The
most popular, however, states that Huon, taking advantage of the first
moments of surprise, kissed Rezia thrice, slipping on her finger, in sign
of betrothal, the magic ring which he had taken from Angoulaffre. Then,
seeing the caliph's guards about to fall upon him, he gently breathed soft
music on his magic horn, and set caliph and court a-dancing.
"The whole divan, one swimming circle glides
Swift without stop: the old bashaws click time,
As if on polish'd ice; in trance sublime
The iman hoar with some spruce courtier slides.
Nor rank nor age from capering refrain;
Nor can the king his royal foot restrain!
He too must reel amid the frolic row,
Grasp the grand vizier by his beard of snow,
And teach the aged man once more to bound amain!"
WIELAND, _Oberon_ (Sotheby's tr.).
[Sidenote: Flight of Rezia.] While they were thus occupied, Huon conducted
the willing Rezia to the door, where Sherasmin was waiting for them with
fleet steeds, and with Fatima, the princess's favorite attendant. While
Sherasmin helped the ladies to mount, Huon hastened back to the palace
hall, and found that the exhausted caliph had sunk upon a divan. With the
prescribed ceremonies, our hero politely craved a lock of his beard and
four of his teeth as a present for Charlemagne. This impudent request so
incensed the caliph that he vociferated orders to his guards to slay the
stranger. Huon was now forced to defend himself with a curtain pole and a
golden bowl, until, needing aid, he suddenly blew a resounding peal upon
his magic horn. The earth shook, the palace rocked, Oberon appeared in the
midst of rolling thunder and flashing lightning, and with a wave of his
lily wand plunged caliph and people into a deep sleep. Then he placed his
silver car at Huon's disposal, to bear him and his bride and attendants to
Ascalon, where a ship was waiting to take them back to France.
"'So haste, thou matchless pair!
On wings of love, my car, that cuts the air,
Shall waft you high above terrestrial sight,
And place, ere morning melt the shades of night,
On Askalon's far shore, beneath my guardian care.'"
WIELAND, _Oberon_ (Sotheby's tr.).
[Sidenote: Oberon's warning.] When Huon and Rezia were about to embark at
Ascalon, Oberon appeared. He claimed his chariot, which had brought them
thither, and gave the knight a golden and jeweled casket, which contained
the teeth of the caliph and a lock of his beard. One last test of Huon's
loyalty was required, however; for Oberon, at parting, warned him to make
no attempt to claim Rezia as his wife until their union had been blessed at
Rome by the Pope.
"'And deep, O Huon! grave it in your brain!
Till good Sylvester, pious father, sheds
Heaven's holy consecration on your heads,
As brother and as sister chaste remain!
Oh, may ye not, with inauspicious haste,
The fruit forbidden prematurely taste!
Know, if ye rashly venture ere the time,
That Oberon, in vengeance of your crime,
Leaves you, without a friend, on life's deserted waste!'"
WIELAND, _Oberon_ (Sotheby's tr.).
The first part of the journey was safely accomplished; but when they
stopped at Lepanto, on the way, Huon insisted upon his mentor, Sherasmin,
taking passage on another vessel, which sailed direct to France, that he
might hasten ahead, lay the golden casket at Charlemagne's feet, and
announce Huon's coming with his Oriental bride.
[Illustration: HUON AND AMANDA LEAP OVERBOARD.--Gabriel Max.]
When Sherasmin had reluctantly departed, and they were again on the high
seas, Huon expounded the Christian faith to Rezia, who not only was
converted, but was also baptized by a priest on board. He gave her the
Christian name of Amanda, in exchange for her pagan name of Rezia or
Esclarmonde. This same priest also consecrated their marriage; and while
Huon intended to await the Pope's blessing ere he claimed Amanda as his
wife, his good resolutions were soon forgotten, and the last injunction of
Oberon disregarded.
[Sidenote: Disobedience and punishment.] This disobedience was immediately
punished, for a frightful tempest suddenly arose, threatening to destroy
the vessel and all on board. The sailors, full of superstitious fears, cast
lots to discover who should be sacrificed to allay the fury of the storm.
When the choice fell upon Huon, Amanda flung herself with him into the
tumultuous waves. As the lovers vanished overboard the storm was suddenly
appeased, and, instead of drowning together, Huon and Amanda, by the magic
of the ring she wore, drifted to a volcanic island, where they almost
perished from hunger and thirst.
Much search among the rocks was finally rewarded by the discovery of some
dates, which were particularly welcome, as the lovers had been bitterly
deluded by the sight of some apples of Sodom. The fruit, however, was soon
exhausted, and, after untold exertions, Huon made his way over the
mountains to a fertile valley, the retreat of Titania, queen of the
fairies, who had quarreled with Oberon, and who was waiting here until
recalled to fairyland.
The only visible inhabitant of the valley, however, was a hermit, who
welcomed Huon, and showed him a short and convenient way to bring Amanda
thither. After listening attentively to the story of Huon's adventures, the
hermit bade him endeavor to recover the favor of Oberon by voluntarily
living apart from his wife, and leading a life of toil and abstinence.
"'Blest,' says the hermit, 'blest the man whom fate
Guides with strict hand, but not unfriendly aim!
How blest! whose slightest fault is doom'd to shame!
Him, trained to virtue, purest joys await,--
Earth's purest joys reward each trying pain!
Think not the fairy will for aye remain
Inexorable foe to hearts like thine:
Still o'er you hangs his viewless hand divine;
Do but deserve his grace, and ye his grace obtain."
WIELAND, _Oberon_ (Sotheby's tr.).
[Sidenote: Huon's penance.] Huon was ready and willing to undergo any
penance which would enable him to deliver his beloved Amanda from the isle,
and after building her a little hut, within call of the cell he occupied
with the hermit, he spent all his time in tilling the soil for their
sustenance, and in listening to the teachings of the holy man.
Time passed on. One day Amanda restlessly wandered a little way up the
mountain, and fell asleep in a lovely grotto, which she now for the first
time discovered. When she awoke from a blissful dream she found herself
clasping her new-born babe, who, during her slumbers, had been cared for by
the fairies. This child, Huonet, was, of course, a great comfort to Amanda,
who was devoted to him.
When the babe was a little more than a year old the aged monk died. Huon
and Amanda, despairing of release from the desert island, were weary of
living apart; and Titania, who foresaw that Oberon would send new
misfortunes upon them to punish them in case they did not stand the second
test, carried little Huonet off to fairyland, lest he should suffer for his
parents' sins.
[Sidenote: Amanda and the pirates.] Huon and Amanda, in the mean time,
searched frantically for the missing babe, fancying it had wandered off
into the woods. During their search they became separated, and Amanda,
while walking along the seashore, was seized by pirates. They intended to
carry her away and sell her as a slave to the Sultan. Huon heard her cries
of distress, and rushed to her rescue; but in spite of his utmost efforts
to join her he saw her borne away to the waiting vessel, while he was bound
to a tree in the woods, and left there to die.
"Deep in the wood, at distance from the shore,
They drag their victim, that his loudest word
Pour'd on the desert air may pass unheard.
Then bind the wretch, and fasten o'er and o'er
Arm, leg, and neck, and shoulders, to a tree.
To heaven he looks in speechless agony,
O'ercome by woe's unutterable weigfit.
Thus he--the while, with jocund shout elate
The crew bear off their prey, and bound along the sea."
WIELAND, _Oberon_ (Sotheby's tr.).
Oberon, however, had pity at last upon the unfortunate knight, and sent one
of his invisible servants, who not only unbound him, but transported him,
with miraculous rapidity, over land and sea, and deposited him at the door
of a gardener's house in Tunis.
[Sidenote: Sherasmin's search.] After parting from his master at Lepanto,
Sherasmin traveled on until he came to the gates of the palace with his
precious casket. Then only did he realize that Charlemagne would never
credit his tale unless Huon were there with his bride to vouch for its
truth. Instead of entering the royal abode he therefore hastened back to
Rome, where for two months he awaited the arrival of the young couple.
Then, sure that some misfortune had overtaken them, the faithful Sherasmin
wandered in pilgrim guise from place to place seeking them, until he
finally came to Tunis, where Fatima, Amanda's maid, had been sold into
slavery, and where he sorrowfully learned of his master's death.
To be near Fatima, Sherasmin took a gardener's position in the Sultan's
palace, and when he opened the door of his humble dwelling one morning he
was overjoyed to find Huon, who had been brought there by the messenger of
Oberon. An explanation ensued, and Huon, under the assumed name of Hassan,
became Sherasmin's assistant in the Sultan's gardens.
The pirates, in the mean while, hoping to sell Amanda to the Sultan
himself, had treated her with the utmost deference; but as they neared the
shore of Tunis their vessel suffered shipwreck, and all on board perished
miserably, except Amanda. She was washed ashore at the Sultan's feet.
Charmed by her beauty, the Sultan conveyed her to his palace, where he
would immediately have married her had she not told him that she had made a
vow of chastity which she was bound to keep for two years.
[Sidenote: Huon and Amanda reunited.] Huon, unconscious of Amanda's
presence, worked in the garden, where the Sultan's daughter saw him and
fell in love with him. As she failed to win him, she became very jealous.
Soon after this Fatima discovered Amanda's presence in the palace, and
informed Huon, who made a desperate effort to reach her. This was
discovered by the jealous princess, and since Huon would not love her, she
was determined that he should not love another. She therefore artfully laid
her plans, and accused him of a heinous crime, for which the Sultan,
finding appearances against him, condemned him to death. Amanda, who was
warned by Fatima of Huon's danger, rushed into the Sultan's presence to
plead for her husband's life; but when she discovered that she could obtain
it only at the price of renouncing him forever and marrying the Sultan, she
declared that she preferred to die, and elected to be burned with her
beloved. The flames were already rising around them both, when Oberon,
touched by their sufferings and their constancy, suddenly appeared, and
again hung his horn about Huon's neck.
The knight hailed this sign of recovered favor with rapture, and, putting
the magic horn to his lips, showed his magnanimity by blowing only a soft
note and making all the pagans dance.
"No sooner had the grateful knight beheld,
With joyful ardor seen, the ivory horn,
Sweet pledge of fairy grace, his neck adorn,
Than with melodious whisper gently swell'd,
His lip entices forth the sweetest tone
That ever breath'd through magic ivory blown:
He scorns to doom a coward race to death.
'Dance! till ye weary gasp, depriv'd of breath--
Huon permits himself this slight revenge alone'"
WIELAND, _Oberon_ (Sotheby's tr.).
[Sidenote: Huon and Amanda in fairyland.] While all were dancing, much
against their will, Huon and Amanda, Sherasmin and Fatima, promptly stepped
into the silvery car which Oberon placed at their disposal, and were
rapidly transported to fairyland. There they found little Huonet in perfect
health. Great happiness now reigned, for Titania, having secured the ring
which Amanda had lost in her struggle with the pirates on the sandy shore,
had given it back to Oberon. He was propitiated by the gift, and as the
sight of Huon and Amanda's fidelity had convinced him that wives could be
true, he took Titania back into favor, and reinstated her as queen of his
realm.
When Huon and Amanda had sojourned as long as they wished in fairyland,
they were wafted in Oberon's car to the gates of Paris. There Huon arrived
just in time to win, at the point of his lance, his patrimony of Guienne,
which Charlemagne had offered as prize at a tournament. Bending low before
his monarch, the young hero then revealed his name, presented his wife,
gave him the golden casket containing the lock of hair and the four teeth,
and said that he had accomplished his quest.
"Our hero lifts the helmet from his head;
And boldly ent'ring, like the god of day,
His golden ringlets down his armor play.
All, wond'ring, greet the youth long mourn'd as dead,
Before the king his spirit seems to stand!
Sir Huon with Amanda, hand in hand,
Salutes the emperor with respectful bow--
'Behold, obedient to his plighted vow,
Thy vassal, sovereign liege, returning to thy land!
"'For by the help of Heaven this arm has done
What thou enjoin'dst--and lo! before thine eye
The beard and teeth of Asia's monarch lie,
At hazard of my life, to please thee, won;
And in this fair, by every peril tried,
The heiress of his throne, my love, my bride!'
He spoke; and lo! at once her knight to grace,
Off falls the veil that hid Amanda's face,
And a new radiance gilds the hall from side to side."
WIELAND, _Oberon_ (Sotheby's tr.).
The young couple, entirely restored to favor, sojourned a short time at
court and then traveled southward to Guienne, where their subjects received
them with every demonstration of extravagant joy. Here they spent the
remainder of their lives together in happiness and comparative peace.
[Sidenote: An earlier version of the story.] According to an earlier
version of the story, Esclarmonde, whom the pirates intended to convey to
the court of her uncle, Yvoirin of Montbrand, was wrecked near the palace
of Galafre, King of Tunis, who respected her vow of chastity but
obstinately refused to give her up to her uncle when he claimed her. Huon,
delivered from his fetters on the island, was borne by Malebron, Oberon's
servant, to Yvoirin's court, where he immediately offered himself as
champion to defy Galafre and win back his beloved wife at the point of the
sword. No sooner did Huon appear in martial array at Tunis than Galafre
selected Sherasmin (who had also been shipwrecked off his coast, and had
thus become his slave) as his champion. Huon and Sherasmin met, but,
recognizing each other after a few moments' struggle, they suddenly
embraced, and, joining forces, slew the pagans and carried off Esclarmonde
and Fatima. They embarked upon a swift sailing vessel, and soon arrived at
Rome, where Huon related his adventures to the Pope, who gave him his
blessing.
As they were on their way to Charlemagne's court, Girard, a knight who had
taken possession of Huon's estates, stole the golden casket from Sherasmin,
and sent Huon and Esclarmonde in chains to Bordeaux. Then, going to court,
he informed Charlemagne that although Huon had failed in his quest, he had
dared to return to France. Charlemagne, whose anger had not yet cooled,
proceeded to Bordeaux, tried Huon, and condemned him to death. But just as
the knight was about to perish, Oberon appeared, bound the emperor and
Girard fast, and only consented to restore them to freedom when Charlemagne
promised to reinstate Huon.
Oberon then produced the missing casket, revealed Girard's treachery, and,
after seeing him punished, bore Huon and Esclarmonde off to fairyland. Huon
eventually became ruler of this realm in Oberon's stead; and his daughter,
Claretie, whose equally marvelous adventures are told at great length in
another, but far less celebrated, _chanson de geste_, is represented as the
ancestress of all the Capetian kings of France.