Chapter V.
OF THE HERMIT AND OF HIS DEALING WITH YWAIN.
So within a while he got upon his feet and came to the door in the rock and called to the hermit; and the hermit came from within and stood shading his eyes with his hand, and asked him the reason of his calling. And Ywain answered him courteously, making as though to take his hat from off his head in sign of reverence: and the hermit lifted his eyes in the same moment and saw that the hat was the hat of a pilgrim, and yet of no accustomed pilgrim, for there were upon it neither shells nor images. Also he saw that Ywain’s cloak was not threadworn nor his shoes broken. And his face he could not well see for the brightness of the sunlight, but by his voice he might perceive him to be young and gentle, and none of the wandering rogues of whom all hermits dwell in dread. Then he brought him into his cave, that was as like a house as a cave may be, and he made him sit by a table, and gave him to eat and to drink. And when Ywain had well eaten and drunk the hermit asked him concerning the way by which he had come, and the way by which he would go forth again: but he would not ask of his name, nor in what house he was born, nor even of his pilgrimage, for he also was courteous, and his mind was to pleasure his guest and not himself only. Nevertheless he was not willing to lose the companionship that had fallen to him until he should have heard somewhat of the dealing of men, for it was long since he had had knowledge thereof by one of like breeding with himself. So he spoke to Ywain of to-morrow, and of certain things that he would show him, and Ywain heard him gladly enough, for his feet were now heavy with weariness and good eating. And the hermit knew this by the sound of his speech, and he laid him upon his own bed and bade him take his ease.
Now when Ywain awoke he looked first upon the wall of the chamber and saw that there was a glint of sunlight upon it high up, whereby he knew that the day was falling. Also he was aware that there was one watching him, and when he had turned his head he saw how it was the hermit who stood in the doorway of the chamber: and the man’s face seemed to him wise and quiet, as of one that had many thoughts and mastery therewith.
So they two went to supper, and this was the first time that they had eaten together. And at one time they remembered this, and at another they forgot it: for they spoke not of their doing but chiefly of their deeming, and often they would be eager the one to put question to the other, and often they would know before question put how the answer would be.
Then at the last Ywain was minded to ask counsel of the hermit, and in one tale he told him all, to wit, how that in a day his life had changed, and how that he had left his own house and the house of his fathers, and gone out to seek his desire, and again how that he had as yet no certainty of what his desire might be. Only he told nothing of the boy that had come and led him away: but he put his own desire in place of the boy, for he was willing rather to be counted a fool than a teller of marvels. And he thought that his adventure might be judged as well by the part as by the whole, for that which he would hold back was in no wise the marrow of it.
But the hermit said: Desire is a child: yet will he take a man by the hand and lead him away.
Then Ywain was astonished, for he said within himself, How can this hermit have knowledge of the child, seeing that I told him nothing?
Then the hermit said further, This is the part of a man, to know whether his desire be a wise child or a wayward. For the wayward will swiftly take him a-wandering, and swiftly in his wandering will leave him: but the wise will never leave him utterly.
Then Ywain asked him, By what reason may that be? And the hermit said, By nature: for every man is that which hath been and that which shall be.
Then Ywain was yet more astonished, and his mind swung backwards and he thought, Certainly I must have told him, for these words are every one of them the words of the boy. And instantly his mind swung again and he thought, But I told him not. And he looked at the hermit’s face and saw it hardly, for the twilight was covering it from him by little and little: but he saw the two eyes of him and they were not fainter but clearer, and Ywain’s heart lay open to them like water to the stars. And he said within himself, The words that I told not, he perceived them with his eyes.
Then the hermit rose up softly and went out, and when he came again he brought heather and fern, and he made Ywain a bed beyond his own, and they slept before it was dark.