[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.