Sir Huon thought he had never in his life tasted any fare so good. The
old lady talked while her guests ate. She doubted not, she said, they
had come to be present at the great feast in honor of the marriage of
the Sultan's daughter, which was to take place on the morrow. They
asked who the bridegroom was to be, and the old lady answered, "The
Prince of Hyrcania," but added, "Our princess hates him, and would
rather wed a dragon than him." "How know you that?" asked Huon; and the
dame informed him that she had it from the princess herself, who was
her foster-child. Huon inquired the reason of the princess's aversion;
and the woman pleased to find her chat excite so much interest, replied
that it was all in consequence of a dream. "A dream!" exclaimed Huon.
"Yes! a dream. She dreamed that she was a hind, and that the Prince, as
a hunter, was pursuing her, and had almost overtaken her, when a
beautiful dwarf appeared in view, drawn in a golden car, having by his
side a young man of yellow hair and fair complexion, like one from a
foreign land. She dreamed that the car stopped where she stood, and
that, having resumed her own form, she was about to ascend it, when
suddenly it faded from her view, and with it the dwarf and the
fair-haired youth. But from her heart that vision did not fade, and
from that time her affianced bridegroom, the Hyrcanian prince, had
become odious to her sight. Yet the Sultan, her father, by no means
regarding such a cause as sufficient to prevent the marriage, had named
the morrow as the time when it should be solemnized, in presence of his
court and many princes of the neighboring countries, whom the fame of
the princess's beauty and the bridegroom's splendor had brought to the
scene."
We may suppose this conversation woke a tumult of thoughts in the
breast of Huon. Was it not clear that Providence led him on, and
cleared the way for his happy success? Sleep did not early visit the
eyes of Huon that night; but, with the sanguine temper of youth, he
indulged his fancy in imagining the sequel of his strange experience.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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