The end of it all was that no more than three great hearts pursued the
black ram with its wagging burden into the forest. Of whom one,
feeling the fatuity of slaying the slain, or having, it may be, some
lurking seed of nominalism fomenting within, beat off the others and
unstrapped the victim's arms and legs.
"Though you are a wanton, God knows," he said, "you are flesh and
blood, or were so an hour ago. Be off with you now, and learn honest
living."
This was irony of fact, though not of intention. It was prompted by
that need which we all have of fortifying ourselves. But it probably
saved the girl's life. The men withdrew, and she lay there quiet
enough, with a bloody foam on her mouth, for two nights and a day.
It is said, I know not how truly, that the ram stayed by her, was
found standing there when she was found. It is like enough; there was
a good deal of the animal, beyond the wild-beast savour, about Isoult.
She was certainly no formularist; nor had she the reward of those who
do well to be angry, which lies, I suppose, in being able to drub with
a whole heart.