[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’ aerial 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.