Now all events came to pass
just as Marke had commanded.
Tristan and his lady Isolt
bowed with but little concern
and no more than cool discomfort
before the king their lord
and then to the assembled courtiers.
The two close companions
took each other by the hand
and made their way out of the court.
They wished their consort Brangaene
good health and farewell,
earnestly entreating her
and bidding her to remain
awhile yet at court
until she should hear from them
how they both were faring.
Tristan took twenty marks
in gold from Isolt's treasury
to cover food and necessities
for himself and for her.
A servant also brought him
his harp and his sword, 
his horn and hunting crossbow,
which he needed for the journey.
In addition he had selected
one hound, small and handsome,
from the others in his pack,
which was named Hiudan,
and led it with his own hand.		16650
He commended his men to God,
sending them back home
to his father Rual
except for Curvenal,
whom he kept with him for the trip,
giving into his charge the harp.
He carried the crossbow and horn,
also leading the hound himself—
Hiudan, not Petitcreiu.
Thus these three rode out from court.
Brangaene the faithful and pure
was left behind quite alone
in much sorrow and anxiety.
The unhappy turn of events
and most regrettable parting
from her two closest friends
caused her such distress,
going straight to her heart
that it was a miracle
she survived such affliction.
The two lovers also parted
from her with deepest sorrow,
telling her the purpose was
that she should dwell there at court
only for a short time
to stay in contact with Marke
and try to persuade him
to restore them to his favor.
With this the three travelers
set out toward the wilderness,
through forest and over heath
for nearly two days' journey.

Tristan had long known about
a cave in a wild cliff
that he had once chanced upon
entirely by accident.
He had been riding to the hunt
whose course had brought him there.
This cavern had been cut
into the cliff long ago,
in the days of heathendom
before the time of Corineis
when giants still ruled.
Into it they would retire
when they wanted privacy
to enjoy the pleasures of love.
Wherever such a cave was found,
they closed it with a door of bronze,
and dedicated it to love:
la fossiure a la gent amant,		16700
meaning the hollow of lovers.
And well the name befitted it.

The story gives us the details—
the inside of this retreat
was round, broad, high, and upright,
snow-white, even, and smooth.
The dome of the ceiling
rose to an elegant boss,
forming a crown at the top
of ornamental beauty,
worked elaborately in gold
and thickly set with jewels.
Below it the pavement gleamed,
polished and costly,
of marble green as the grass.
In the center stood a bed,
finely and cleanly carved
from a crystalline stone,
rising nobly, high and broad,
engraved with letters all around
carrying the message
that the bed was dedicated
to the goddess of love.
High up in the fossiure,
gleaming here and there,
small openings had been cut
to let in the light.
A bronze door was hung
for access at the entrance,
outside of which, above the door,
three wide-branching lindens stood,
but no more, farther up.
All around and down the valley
grew trees in great number
shading the hillside with their leaves
and casting the shadow of their branches.
On one side lay a clearing
where a spring bubbled up,
a fresh and cooling fountain,
as clean and clear as sunlight.
Above it also stood three lindens,
with their spreading magnificence
shielding the fountain and its brook
from rain and heat of the sun.
Bright blossoms, green grass,
lending the glade their radiance,
competed sweetly among themselves,
each one trying to outshine
the brilliance of its neighbor.
There was heard in its season			16750
the beautiful tones of birdsong,
which was more than beautiful
only in that glade alone.
Eye and ear feasted there
deliciously and delighted—
the eye found its delicacy,
the ear heard its delight.
There was sunlight and shadow,
the softness of the air,
and the breeze's gentleness.

To reach this hill and its hollow
took a good day's ride
through unrelenting crags,
desolate and wild,
unbroken by convenience
of pathways or clearing,
and still this ruggedness
was never so forbidding
as to bar Tristan's entry
with his companion lover
to find their refuge there
among the cliffs and mountains.
Now having found a place to stay,
they had Curvenal return
to let it be known at court
and wherever else was necessary
that Tristan and the lovely Isolt
had made their way back to Irlant
under very trying conditions
in order to prove their innocence
before the people throughout that land.
He was furthermore instructed
to take up residence at court
as Brangaene might direct,
and try his best to assure
that true and steadfast
friend of them both
of their friendship and love.
Also, he should find out
what Marke's attitude was—
if perhaps he planned in anger
on some deed of revenge
that might cost them their lives,
he should inform them of this.
They also implored him
to think now and then
about Tristan and Isolt,
and return to deliver them
whatever news or developments
might help to raise their spirits		16800
at least once in twenty days.
What can I say, more than this?
He did the job he had been given.
Thus had Tristan and Isolt
taken up residence
in their wilderness cloister.

Now, many of you will be puzzled,
both curious and surprised,
and want very much to know
how Tristan and Isolt,
these two adventurers,
fed themselves in the wilds.
I am about to tell you,
to feed your curiosity.
They could gaze at each other,
which was enough to sustain them.
The harvest that the eye bore
was nourishment for them both.
They ate nothing while there
but desire and love.
This loving company
had very little concern
as to sustenance.
They carried with them
clothed there beneath their raiment
the very best provender
that can be had in the world.
It bore yield at no cost,
always fresh and anew—
this was their true devotion,
the sweet balm of love
which so deeply satisfies
both the body and the mind,
food for the heart and courage.
This was their best sustenance.
Surely, they took little notice
of any food except this,
by which the heart feeds desire,
the eye harvests its delight,
and which provides for the body.
Just with this they had their fill.
Love, the plough they were born to,
performed the cultivation
all the time, at every step,
yielding for them in fullness
whatever one can wish in life.
Nor did it trouble them
to be alone in the wilds,
entirely without human contact.
What need had they of that,			16850
or why should anyone come to them?
Together they made an even number,
nothing more than one plus one.
Had they included someone else
in their round-numbered group
the sum would then have come out odd,
and by that odd be in excess,
an unnecessary burden.
Just they two in company
made such a merry crowd
that King Arthur, bless him,
never in his finest castle
held so splendid a festival
as would have entertained them better
or given them more delight.
Not in any of the nations
could a pleasure have been found
that they two at that time
would have spent a glass jewel
to buy and have as their own.
Anything you could imagine
as adding to an ideal life
in any country anywhere,
that they had, all to themselves.
Not a bean would they have given
for a better life than that,
except for their name and honor.
What else more did they need?
They had their court, and everything
that goes to make up happiness.
As obedient attendants
they had the green lindens,
the cool shade and the sun,
the rivulet and its fountain,
flowers, grass, leaves, and blossoms,
ever soothing to the eye.
Birdsong rendered them service,
the slim, trim nightingale,
the thrush and the blackbird,
and other fowl of the forest.
Siskin and skylark
vied to provide them
with the most attentiveness.
This crew waited diligently
on their hearing and senses.
Their celebration was love,
the pinnacle of their joys,
which was pleased to bring before them
King Arthur's round table
a thousand times a day			16900
with all his splendid company.
What richer food did they need
for either mind or body?
There the man had his woman,
the woman was with her man.
What else could be wanting?
They had what they needed,
there where they wished to be.

Now, there are plenty of people
who tell improbable stories
that I prefer not to believe.
Such an existence, they say,
requires another kind of food.
I'm not so sure that it does—
this seems quite enough to me.
But if there is anyone
who has discovered
some better food in this life,
let him tell us what it is.
There was a time when I myself
lived in just this way,
and then it was enough for me.

Now, let it not try your patience
to hear an interpretation
of the various meanings
intended with the structure
of the fossiure there in the stone.
It was, as I have already said,
round, broad, high, and upright,
snow-white, even, and smooth.
The roundness of the interior
means, in love, simplicity.
Simplicity well accords with love,
which should be without kinks,
such as cunning and deception,
by which love is misshapen.
The breadth is the power love has,
which extends without limit.
The elevation means high spirits
which may rise into the clouds
and regard nothing as too much,
as long as they aspire to rise
toward that diadem of virtue
at the apex of the dome.
Thus it is we never fail
to raise and ennoble virtues
with jewel inlays and fine work.
Our praise of them gleams on high
while we, more lowly constituted,
whose spirits creep here below,			16950
floating just above the floor,
unable to rise or free themselves—
thus our gaze is directed
always upward toward that work,
placed so high by its virtues,
which descends to us through the praise
of those soaring above us,
showering us with their radiance.
We can only gaze in wonder.
It is by this we grow the wings
on which the mind takes flight,
and in its arc praises virtue.
The wall was white, even, and smooth,
as befits honesty.
Its whiteness, the same everywhere,
should never be discolored.
Suspicion can never take hold
on any hump or scratch there.
The smooth marble pavement
is an image of constancy
in its greenness and solidity,
the meaning best suited
to its color and evenness,
inasmuch as constancy
must be fresh and green as grass,
as hard, smooth, and clear as glass.
The bed of crystalline Love
standing in the middle
was so named with good reason.
He who had carved the crystal
for Love's bed and practice
understood her nature well.
She should be, as crystal is,
transparent and unflawed.
Two bolts passed across
the inside of the bronze door,
and a latch had been provided
with expert workmanship
through the wall to the outside,
where Tristan had found it.
It was controlled by a handle
that entered from the outside
which raised it and lowered it.
No lock or key was needed,
and I will tell you the reason.
No sort of lock was there
because providing a device
on the outside of a door
to open it and shut it
signifies treachery.			17000
If someone enters Love's door
without admission from within,
it is not a question of love,
but of treachery or violence.
That is why the gate of Love,
the bronze door, bars its entrance,
through which no one gains admittance
unless it be by means of love.
It is of bronze for this reason—
no possible implement
by sheer force or cleverness,
trickery or expertise,
dishonesty or deception,
is strong enough to breach it.
The two bolts on the inside,
each one a seal of love,
worked in opposite directions
from each side of the wall.
One of them was made of cedar,
the other carved out of ivory.

Now I will tell you what this means.
The one seal of cedar
signifies the wisdom
and understanding of love;
the other one of ivory,
its chastity and pureness.
These two insignia,
two barriers of purity,
secure the hall of Love
from assault and deceit.
The small, hidden handle
leading in from outside
and connected to the latch
was a spindle made of tin,
while the latch itself was of gold,
as properly it should have been.
Neither handle nor latch
could have been fashioned
from more suitable substance—
tin stands for devotion
to affairs kept secret,
and gold is the emblem of success.
Tin and gold thus belong here.
Anyone is able to forge
his devotion as he wishes—
to narrow or broaden it,
make it shorter or longer,
expand it or compress it,
this way, that way, or however
as easily as tin is worked		17050
almost without damaging it.
Surely, this slender handle
of tin, weak as it may be,
admits him who means well
in his earnest quest for love
through success' golden latch
into pleasure's adventure.

High up in the fossiure
only three little windows 
were cut through the solid stone,
cleanly and inconspicuously,
through which sunlight streamed in.
One of these is kindness,
the second is humility,
and nobility is the third.
Through them laughed the splendor
of honor, that blessed gleam,
the noblest of illuminations,
brightening the fossiure
of worldly adventure.
It also is significant
that this hidden fossiure
lay isolated in the wilds.
To this we may liken
the fact that love with its practices
is not exposed in the street
or on any gentle meadows.
It awaits in the wilderness,
where access to its cloister
is difficult and forbidding.
Mountain wastes surround it
with many a twist and turn
straying hither and thither.
Up and down the pathways
clefts and boulders so impede
all of us afflicted searchers
that unless we climb with great care
we may take one false step
which will leave us no chance
of ever coming through safely.
But whoever is so fortunate
as to make it through the wilds
will find that his labors
were well spent indeed.
There he'll find his heart's delight—
whatever the ear listens for
or the eye longs to see,
this retreat provides so freely
that he would not be elsewhere.

Well do I know this. I have been there.		17100
I, too, in that fastness
have followed and pursued
the birds and the game,
the stag and the quarry,
across many a preserve
but always spent my time in vain,
never having seen the kill.
All my labors and exertions
remained entirely without event.
At the fossiure I discovered
the handle and saw the latch.
At times I even managed
to approach the crystalline bed.
Again and again I have danced
my way to it, there and back,
yet never on it had repose.
That fine pavement surrounding it—
hard as marble it may be,
but so pounded by my steps 
that unless saved by its greenness,
in which its greatest virtue lies
and by which it grows afresh,
you would see, worn into it,
the authentic track of love.
My eyes have also feasted
avidly on those bright walls.
I have gazed earnestly,
at that artifact on high,
at the dome and at the latch,
and nearly worn out my sight
on those ornaments above
that sparkle so praiseworthily.
Those windows like little suns—
they have often pierced my heart
with their bright shafts of light.
I have known that fossiure
ever since my eleventh year
and have never been to Curnewal.

Its faithful residents,
Tristan and his amie,
took their pleasures and diversions
with the greatest delight
there in the wilderness,
the forest and the fields.
Constantly they remained
at each other's side.
Through the dews of morning
they slipped out to the meadow,
covered both with grass and blossoms,
cooled by the early moisture.			17150
On this gentle clearing
they found their recreation.
Strolling here and there,
together in conversation,
they listened while they walked
to the sweet bird chorus.
Then they took a path aside
to where the clear fountain played
and listening to its music,
its gentle rush as it flowed
out across to reach the plain,
they sat down to rest
and heard its gentle sound
as they watched it coursing,
much to their further pleasure.
But when the brightening sun
began to rise higher
and its warmth grew stronger,
they made their way to the lindens
for the soft breezes there
which again provided them delights
without and within the breast.
Eyes and senses knew joy—
the sweet linden sweetened
air and shade with its leaves,
the winds became in its shadow
sweeter, softer, cooler.
The couch beneath the linden
was of blossoms and grass,
more brightly painted 
than any a linden ever.
There they sat together,
devotees of yearning,
and recalled yearning tales
of those who, in early years,
had by yearning been destroyed.
They recited and retold,
regretted and lamented,
what Phyllis of Thrace
and misfortunate Canache
had suffered for the sake of love,
and how Byblis' heart broke
in passion for her brother,
and the fate that the queen
of Sidon and Tyre,
the yearning Dido,
had earned, yearning miserably.
On stories such as these
they dwelt now and then.
But when between themselves		17200
they wanted to forget them,
the slipped away into their cloister
and took into their hands
their favorite instruments,
which afforded them much pleasure,
and let harp and song ring out
in all the sweetness of yearning.
They alternated busying 
their hands and their voices—
they fingered and they sang
lays and tunes of love.
As their fancy took them,
they exchanged their performance.
Whichever of them held the harp,
the other, by their custom,
sang with sweet yearning
the accompanying melody.
Each of these contributions,
from the harp and the voice,
when they were produced together,
harmonized with such sweetness
as well befitted that Love
for whom the cloister had been named
la fossiure a la gent amant.

Well did they commemorate
what had long been handed down
concerning the fossiure
in all the ancient legends.
Its true custodian
only now began fully
to exercise her office there.
Whatever had been done before
as to diversion or play
did not come up to their mark.
Never before was its meaning
so purely or so well enacted
as by the pastimes they enjoyed.
They whiled away the hours of love
more expertly than former lovers.
What they did was limited
only by their hearts' desires.
They suffered no lack of diversions
to enjoy in their time there—
they rode to the hunt
whenever the whim took them,
employing the crossbow
to pursue in the wilds
fowl and other game,
and on occasional days
to course the red stag			17250
with their hound Hiudan,
which had as yet not learned
to trail without giving tongue.
Tristan, however, very soon
had succeeded in training him
to follow up the spoor
of stag and other game,
whatever sort of quarry,
over fields and through forest
without making any sound.
At this they spent many a day,
Not for the sake of any kill
that one harvests in this way,
but only for the pleasure of sport
that is to be had in the pursuit.
They hunted, as I well know,
using both hound and crossbow
more for their hearts' delight
and for sheer recreation
than out of any need of meat.
Their occupation and practice
at all times, in all ways,
was only what they chose to do
and happened to appeal to them.