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.