Chapter XXVIII.
HOW THE MOON CHANGED, AND HOW YWAIN BROKE FORTH FROM THE CITY OF THE SAINTS.

So when the evening was come Ywain and Bartholomy accompanied together; and they went through the city darkling, for the moon was now in umbrage. And when they came to the Abbey where was the Golden Bell, they found a crowd gathered thereabout, and the gate well guarded: and within the gate was Vincent with certain others. And there was a great lanthorn above, and when they came beneath the light of the lanthorn Vincent saw them who they were: and he greeted them and brought them to the Chapel.

Now the manner of the chapel was this: and it was by repute as proper a chapel as any in that city. For it was thrice as long as wide, and the roof was of white stone, high embowed and carven with spreading ribs. And the walls were of white stone also, but overlaid below with cedar wood: and the wood was ancient and empanelled with many rich devices. And upon the walls were canopies with carven tracery above, and stalls of dignity thereunder: and below the stalls were other stalls and again other, so that there were of them three several rows on this side and on that. And they which sat therein were set over against each other: and beside every man in every stall there was a fair white candle burning. And with the light of those candles the whole place was lit and glorified: yet there was a darkness also within it, for the cedar work was wellnigh black with ancientry. Also the floor was of marble, lozengy black and white, and in the candle-shine it glimmered sombrely.

So they came within the chapel, and Vincent showed them where they should be seated. And to Bartholomy he showed a seat among the lowest, but Ywain he set in a high stall beneath a canopy, among those which were great ones in the Abbey and in the city. And when he was come to his place Ywain looked adown the chapel, and he saw how Vincent had bestowed himself: for he was set fast by the doorway, on the one side of it, and on the other side was set the Lord Abbot in his state.

Then when all men were in place the doors were closed, both the outer and the inner, and the Lord Abbot gave command and the Golden Bell began to ring. And at the sound of that bell the hearts of all that heard it were comforted exceedingly, and they folded their hands to rest: for that which they heard was as a sweetness poured out upon all things, whereby the wrongs of men were hidden and their crying drowned. And Ywain also forgot in that instant all the ills that he had suffered in all his life: and of the morrow he dreamed without desire. For the fights wherein he had made forfeit and the hopes which he had never achieved, he remembered them but with tenderness, as shames and perils of childhood, nothing great: and in likewise he thought carelessly on all that was to come. And he knew not how long he sat there musing: for the blood lulled idly in his pulse as the sea water lulls before the turning of the tide.

Then upon a sudden his eyes opened and he beheld a marvel. For over against him there came upon the air the semblance of a man’s hand: and the hand was great and black, and habited in a manch of black. And it came slowly along the chapel, by no motion that might be perceived: and as it came the lights perished dead before it by stall and by stall. And the lowest row were those which perished first, and then those next above them: and last of all the lights that were before the canopies. And Ywain knew not what had befallen him, for he felt in his heart a lifting of heaviness: and he looked about to see his fellows, and when he saw them he was astonished. For they started up stiffly and yet they moved not: but they sat every one in his place with his eyes staring and his mouth misshapen. And the hand went towards Vincent and towards the Lord Abbot: and their lights also perished, and the bell clanked brokenly and fell to silence.

Then came upon Ywain both memory and understanding: and joy leapt from within him fiercely, as the tide leaps beneath the wind. And he rose up and made to go forth, and they that were near him clung about him and entreated him, for they were in terror of darkness. And he tossed them from him and came striding to the door: and Vincent cried out that all should stay him. But Ywain said: Let be, your light is out: and he smote him endlong and went on and left him lying. And he came forth to the gate and burst it, and the crowd stood without wondering. And Ywain saw them as a city of sluggards and slumberers, dead before their time: and he cried, The Moon is changed, and he went through them as the wind will go through standing corn. And by what way he knew not he came to what gate he recked not: and he smote the porter with his own keys and went forth shouting into the darkness.