Sir Gawain and the

Green Knight

Medieval European Studies XIII

Patrick W. Conner, Series Editor

Other Titles in the Series:

Via Crucis: Essays on Early Medieval Sources and Ideas

Thomas N. Hall, Editor, with assistance from Thomas D. Hill and Charles D. Wright

Hêliand: Text and Commentary

Edited by James E. Cathey

Naked Before God: Uncovering the Body in Anglo-Saxon England

Edited by Benjamin C. Withers and Jonathan Wilcox

Theorizing Anglo-Saxon Stone Sculpture

Edited by Catherine E. Karkov and Fred Orton

Old English Literature in its Manuscript Context

Edited by Joyce Tally Lionarons

Ancient Privileges: Beowulf, Law, and the Making of Germanic Antiquity

Stefan Jurasinski

Innovation and Tradition in the Writings of the Venerable Bede

Edited by Scott DeGregorio

The Power of Words: Anglo-Saxon Studies

Presented to Donald G. Scragg on his Seventieth Birthday Edited by Jonathan Wilcox and Hugh Magennis

Cædmon’s Hymn and Material Culture in the World of Bede

Edited by Allen J. Frantzen and John Hines

The Cross and Culture in Anglo-Saxon England

Edited by Karen Jolly, Catherine E. Karkov, and Sarah Larratt Keefer

Cross and Cruciform in the Anglo-Saxon World: Studies to Honor the Memory of Timothy Reuter

Edited by Sarah Larratt Keefer, Karen Louise Jolly, and Catherine E. Karkov

Perspectives on the Old Saxon Heliand: Introductory and Critical Essays, with an Edition of the Leipzig Fragment

Edited by Valentine A. Pakis

Sir Gawain

and the Green Knight

A Close Verse Translation

translated by Larry D. Benson

with a foreword and Middle English text edited by Daniel Donoghue

MORGANTOWN 2012

West Virginia University Press, Morgantown 26506

Copyright 2012 by West Virginia University Press

All rights reserved

First edition published 2012 by West Virginia University Press

Printed in the United States of America

20 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 12 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Paper: 978-1-933202-89-1

EPUB: 978-1-935978-10-7

PDF: 978-1-935978-63-3

Library of Congress Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

Benson, Larry D. 19–––

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight : a close verse translation / by Larry D. Benson. -- 1st ed.

p. cm. --  (Medieval European studies ; v. 13)

Includes both the modern English and the Middle English text.

Includes bibliographical references.

ISBN-13: 978-1-933202-89-1 (pbk. : alk. paper)

ISBN-13: 978-1-935978-10-7 (electronic)

ISBN-10: 1-933202-89-0 (pbk. : alk. paper)

ISBN-10: 1-935978-10-1 (electronic)

1.  Gawain (Legendary character)--Romances. 2.  Knights and knighthood--Poetry. 3.  Arthurian romances.  I. Benson, Larry Dean, 1929- II. Title.

PR2065.G3A332 2012

821’.1--dc23

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011018426

Contents

Acknowledgments

Foreword

Select Bibliography

A Note on the Middle English Original Text

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

Acknowledgments

Both of us owe thanks to Pat Conner for initiating the process by which West Virginia University Press undertook this publication. Daniel thanks Larry for the invitation to collaborate and for good conversations over Mexican food. Larry owes thanks to many, such as Jim Smith, who helped often without knowing it. But his greatest help came from Stephen A. Barney, who generously took the time to read and correct the whole manuscript. So too did Theodore M. Andersson, whose careful reading saved Larry from many blunders. Finally, the translation is dedicated to Gavin Benson, whose very name bears witness to his long and happy association with the best of knights.

Foreword

By Daniel Donoghue

When Larry Benson first described his project to translate Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, I was skeptical. It wasn’t just the thought that other translations have appeared in recent years. “Why another?” is easily answered if the translation is good, and Benson has every credential a translator needs, because his ties to the poem are deep and go back at least to his now-classic 1965 book, Art and Tradition in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. No, my skepticism had to do with the kind of translation he proposed, which keeps as much of the original language as possible but in modernized spelling, and which substitutes modern equivalents for words in the poem’s diction that have fallen out of use. Its adherence to the literal is what makes it a “Close Translation.” To me it seemed like a high-risk formula: neither fish nor fowl, a gallimaufry of modern and medieval, a mechanical process applied to a living work of art. Was it a real translation or a kind of aggressive normalization? On a more practical level, does modern English have suitable equivalents for the Gawain-poet’s famously rich word-hoard of synonyms?

Then I read it. My skepticism yielded to acceptance, acceptance to admiration, admiration to reading pleasure. This translation really is the closest thing to reading the Middle English poem because of its consistency in preserving the essential features of the original: its rhythm, its alliteration, and its unique syntax. Recent translations by Borroff, Tolkien, Merwin, and Armitage craft an alliterative verse line as an aesthetic echo and homage to the original; O’Donoghue’s does away with alliteration but keeps the pattern of four prominent stresses per line. No matter what style of verse line is chosen, each successful translation like these stands on its own two feet and invites the reader to enter into a temporary conspiracy to forget about the original. This amnesia is both a product of the poet’s craft and a sign of success. Benson’s literal translation, however, replaces this illusion with a sense of proximity. It never lets readers forget that they are reading a translation, because the original never seems out of earshot. While the meaning of each line is comprehensible even to students coming to the poem for the first time, the translation retains the essence of the poem’s alliterative lines (which in this edition are printed en face). Illustrative passages could be chosen almost at random, but the following description of Gawain and his guide making their predawn trip to the Green Chapel displays the main features:

They bound by banks              where boughs are bare,

They climb by cliffs              where clings the cold.

The heaven was up high              but ugly there-under;

Mist drizzled on the moor              melted on the mountains;

Each hill had a hat,              a huge mantle of mist;

Brooks boiled and broke              by banks about,

Brightly shattering on shores              where they shot down.

Well wild was the way              where they went by wood.  (2077–84)

It is all here: the visual images, the narrative control, the compact phrasing, the rhythm and alliteration. A poetic rendering today could not venture phrasings such as “where clings the cold” and “Well wild was the way,” but they rise naturally from the poem’s wellspring. To see this translation’s fidelity, compare the first two lines above with the original:

Þay bo?en bi bonkke? þer bo?e? ar bare,

Þay clomben bi clyffe? þer clenge? þe colde.

Benson’s translation also preserves what is called the historical present (illustrated here with “clings” as opposed to “clung”) as well as older word forms like “thou keepest”; it keeps original features of syntax such as multiple negatives and the inversion of word order. Poetic synonyms such as freke, gome, haþel, segge which have fallen out of the language are replaced with a modern word alliterating on the same sound: fighter, gallant, horseman, stalwart. The effect of preserving syntax and diction can be sensed in a line like “The gallant upon Gringolet galloped them under” (748), where “gallant” is an unintrusive substitute and “them under” preserves the original’s inversion of word order. Examining isolated instances does not do justice to the overall effect of reading passage after passage, where Benson’s literal translation shows its great advantage in conveying the medieval poem’s energy and excitement. It can be read for pure enjoyment, but it also appeals to those who want more direct engagement with the medieval text.

The Poem and the Poet

One of the masterpieces of Middle English, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight stands comparison with the greatest literature from any language and period. This critical reception, however, is fairly recent, because the poem did not come to the attention of a broad audience until the middle of the nineteenth century, when it was first edited and published. Unlike Chaucer, for example, whose poetic gifts were recognized in his lifetime and whose works survive in multiple copies, the Gawain-poet apparently never enjoyed wide circulation, and all that survives is contained in an unassuming manuscript, roughly the size of the book you are holding, now housed in the British Library with the shelf mark Cotton Nero A.x, Art 3. Besides the text translated here, the manuscript contains another three narrative poems almost certainly by the same author, which are known by their modern names Pearl, Cleanness, and Patience. The four poems’ relatively obscure dialect, not surprisingly, has conditioned their modern reception. Most readers today encounter them only in translation, while Chaucer’s London dialect, by contrast, is still relatively accessible to anyone familiar with Modern English.

Nothing is known of the Gawain-poet except what can be gleaned from his body of writings. They show he was a person of considerable learning. (I use “he” for convenience; among the things unknown is the poet’s gender.) Parts of the plot of Sir Gawain reveal a deep acquaintance with French romances; his other poems show familiarity with Latin theology and biblical exegesis. The literary sources of all four poems, taken together, suggest that he had training appropriate for the clergy, but we cannot be sure whether he took orders or, if he did, whether he remained in religious life. The poet’s imaginative world is vast and varied: Sir Gawain is a secular romance rather than a religious work; Pearl presents itself as a dream vision of a father who loses his daughter, yet this secular frame is used for a didactic message based on orthodox theology. Patience and Cleanness, by contrast, are more religious in a conventional sense. Even if the poet were ordained in higher orders, he knew enough about the outside world to write vivid scenes of boar hunting and sexual seduction. In thinking about this mixture of the sacred and profane from our historical remove, we need to remember that the secular and religious spheres in the Middle Ages existed in constant dynamic interaction. The clergy at this time could be quite worldly—worldly by our anachronistic standards.

Where did this cultivated poet live and write? The dialect of the four poems in Cotton Nero A.x point to Cheshire, not far from the where the northern borders of Wales touch England. In addition, some of the place names mentioned in Sir Gawain are found in northern Wales. Recent scholarship, however, has expanded the question of “where?” by pointing out that a number of the poem’s themes would find special resonance in Richard II’s royal court in London. Richard had long-standing ties to Cheshire and recruited hundreds of Cheshire men into his retinue (Mann 2009). While it is possible that the poem’s primary audience were London transplants, their regional dialect is preserved in the language of Sir Gawain and the other three poems, which is quite unlike the London dialect. Linguistic and other evidence points to a date in the latter half of the fourteenth century, which makes the poet a contemporary of Chaucer, Gower, and Langland. There is no evidence his path ever crossed theirs, as tantalizing as the prospect might be in light of the possible London connection.

They bound by banks              where boughs are bare,

They climb by cliffs              where clings the cold.

The heaven was up high              but ugly there-under;

Mist drizzled on the moor              melted on the mountains;

Each hill had a hat,              a huge mantle of mist;

Brooks boiled and broke              by banks about,

Brightly shattering on shores              where they shot down.

>Well wild was the way              where they went by wood.  (2077–84)

It is all here: the visual images, the narrative control, the compact phrasing, the rhythm and alliteration. A poetic rendering today could not venture phrasings such as “where clings the cold” and “Well wild was the way,” but they rise naturally from the poem’s wellspring. To see this translation’s fidelity, compare the first two lines above with the original:

Þay bo?en bi bonkke? þer bo?e? ar bare,

Þay clomben bi clyffe? þer clenge? þe colde.

Benson’s translation also preserves what is called the historical present (illustrated here with “clings” as opposed to “clung”) as well as older word forms like “thou keepest”; it keeps original features of syntax such as multiple negatives and the inversion of word order. Poetic synonyms such as freke, gome, haþel, segge which have fallen out of the language are replaced with a modern word alliterating on the same sound: fighter, gallant, horseman, stalwart. The effect of preserving syntax and diction can be sensed in a line like “The gallant upon Gringolet galloped them under” (748), where “gallant” is an unintrusive substitute and “them under” preserves the original’s inversion of word order. Examining isolated instances does not do justice to the overall effect of reading passage after passage, where Benson’s literal translation shows its great advantage in conveying the medieval poem’s energy and excitement. It can be read for pure enjoyment, but it also appeals to those who want more direct engagement with the medieval text.

The Verse Form

If you will listen to this lay             but a little while

I shall tell it at once,             as I in town heard

With tongue,

As it is set down and struck

In story stout and strong.

With true letters interlocked

In this land as has been long. (30–36)

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight is but one of a number of substantial poems assigned to the fourteenth-century “Alliterative Revival.” Most prevalent in the north and west of England, the Revival saw a flourishing of poems that use alliteration as an essential formal device. For centuries the alliterative line had been a traditional English verse form—as the quotation above puts it, “In this land as has been long”—as opposed to the rhyming iambic verse associated with French and other continental literatures. The alliterative line’s persistence within an English oral tradition, though virtually certain, is untraceable for the obvious reason that it was spoken, not written. It descends from Old English alliterative verse in ways that are not entirely clear because the literary record is fragmentary. We do know, however, that already by the end of the Old English period the strict metrical conventions were changing. And later, after more than two centuries when poems like SGGK re-emerge “with true letters interlocked,” the alliterative line has expanded and gained rhythmic flexiblity. Because Benson’s translation follows the original poem so closely, it can be used to illustrate Sir Gawain’s verse form.

The Gawain-poet’s basic line unfolds into two parts, divided by a pause called a caesura. A typical half-line has two syllables that receive a prominent stress (or accent), and the number of unstressed syllables between them can vary, so that while the rhythm will always change from one line to the next, the pattern of four stressed syllables gives shape to each line. Usually the first three of the stressed syllables will alliterate but not the final one. The following lines, coming shortly after the passage of the ride to the Green Chapel quoted earlier, show the alliterating syllables in bold type:

With that the warrior in the wood             wrenches his bridle,

Hit the horse with his heels             as hard as he could,

Leaps him over the land             and leaves the knight there

(2152-54)

The poet occasionally takes liberties so that, for example, some lines have only two alliterating syllables and others have four, as shown in the three lines immediately preceding the passage just quoted:

“Now farewell, by God’s wounds,             Gawain the noble!

For all the gold upon ground             I would not go with thee,

Nor bear thee fellowship through this forest             one foot further.” (2149–51)

Note how in the first line (2149) the first sounds of God’s and Gawain carry primary alliteration, while the w of farewell, wounds, and the second half of Gawain add a second, subtle layer of alliteration. In the third line (2151), four words alliterate on f, including the final word further, which by traditional rules should not alliterate. These two examples only scratch the surface of the variability in the alliteration and rhythm of the lines throughout the poem. Some lines, for example, have more stressed syllables without alliteration, and a few have no alliteration at all (Borroff 1962).

The long alliterative line, however, is not the only kind of line in Sir Gawain. Each of its stanzas closes with a five-line coda, called a “bob and wheel,” which begins with a two-syllable turn (the bob) leading to four trimeter lines (the wheel), which together follow the rhyme a-b-a-b-a. The following passage begins with the lines already given, which lead into the bob and wheel that ends the stanza:

“Now farewell, by God’s wounds             Gawain the noble!

For all the gold upon ground             I would not go with thee,

Nor bear thee fellowship through this forest             one foot further.”

With that the warrior in the wood             wrenches his bridle,

Hit the horse with his heels             as hard as he could,

Leaps him over the land             and leaves the knight there

Alone. a

“By God’s self,” quoth Gawain, b

“I will neither gripe nor groan; a

Of God’s will I am certain, b

And I know that I am His own.” a

(2149-59)

The alliterations and rhymes in the translation remain faithful wherever possible to the original Middle English, given here for the sake of comparison:

“Now fare? wel, on Gode? half,             Gawayn þe noble!

For alle þe golde vpon grounde             I nolde go wyth þe,

Ne bere þe fela?schip þur? þis fryth             on fote fyrre.”

Bi þat þe wy?e in þe wod             wende? his brydel,

Hit þe hors with þe hele?             as harde as he my?t,

Lepe? hym ouer þe launde,             and leue? þe kny?t þere

Alone. a

“Bi Godde? self,” quoþ Gawayn, b

“I wyl nauþer grete ne grone; a

To Godde? wylle I am ful bayn, b

And to Hym I haf me tone.” a

(2149-59)

Many of the words from the original are simply repackaged with modern spellings (e.g., nauþer becomes neither), but the translation necessarily must make some adjustments. Note, for example, that in modern English the w of wrenches (2152) does not actually alliterate—call it eye-alliteration—because the initial sound in the pronunciation of the word is r; and the rhymes in the bob and tail are sometimes inexact, as with Gawain and certain. In line after line, however, the translation preserves the essential texture of the original. If the alliterative line seems unfamiliar to the eyes of modern readers, we need to remember that the appearance on the page is deceptive because it is visual, not aural. The lines need to be heard. Follow the poet’s advice—“If you will listen to this lay . . . I shall tell it . . . With tongue”—and read it aloud. You will find the cadences familiar after all.

Compared with other poems in the Alliterative Revival, Sir Gawain shows a remarkably cavalier attitude toward the conventions of the alliterative line. Perhaps chief among these is the prohibition against alliteration on the final stressed syllable; yet we see an example with one foot further in the passage above, and there are many more such liberties. As mentioned earlier, some lines pile up more alliterative sounds than the three required in a conventional line, while others lack alliteration altogether. Even the hero’s name seems unstable; it is occasionally spelled Wawain and alliterates on w. Why this looseness? We can reject the idea that the poet lacked adequate control of his medium and wrote shabby lines because of inferior skills. Quite the opposite. The poem Pearl in the same manuscript is a masterpiece of versecraft, perhaps unequalled in all of English literature. Written in twelve-lines stanzas with precise alliteration and a demanding rhyme scheme (a-b-a-b-a-b-a-b-b-c-b-c), it repeats a key word at the first and last line of each stanza within a section; it has still other exacting formal features. Clearly the poet who wrote Pearl could adhere to the comparatively slight demands of the alliterative line in Gawain. It is as if in turning to Sir Gawain the poet says with a wink, “Let’s loosen things up.” Because poetic form, far from being mere window-dressing, serves to shape interpretation, Sir Gawain’s verse form sends a message that is full of energy, is somewhat whimsical, does not take itself too seriously, and toys with conventions without undermining them. It inserts itself into the alliterative tradition in a self-conscious, self-confident way.

This calculated looseness should not be taken to mean that the poem lacks formal control. Evidence of careful design is everywhere. In broad terms Sir Gawain and the Green Knight consists of 101 stanzas of varying length, most of which are between twenty and thirty lines including the bob and wheel. The manuscript divides the narrative into four sections of uneven length:

(I) lines 1 to 490, the initial challenge up to the end of the first year;

(II) 491 to 1125, Gawain’s journey and arrival at Hautdesert;

(III) 1126 to 1997, the hunting and bedroom scenes; and

(IV) 1998 to 2530, the episode at the Green Chapel and denouement.

In addition to these broad divisions, still other formal features show the hand of a poet sure of his narrative skills: repeated images, parallel scenes, numerical patternings, rich symbols, character development, and more. Because of this depth the poem has always provided fertile ground for literary close readings — which brings us from the poet as a master of versecraft to the poet as a master story-teller.

Genre and Sources

In creating Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, the poet turned to what was by the fourteenth century a shopworn genre in England. The high point of Arthurian romance came two centuries earlier, when Chrétien de Troyes and other authors swept onto the scene with the most innovative form of vernacular literature in Europe. They did so by yoking together the stories of Arthur and his court with the sensibility now known as courtly love or fin’amor. Along with amorous idolization, the ethos of courtly love exalted the importance of a knight’s honor and chivalrous code of conduct. That Chrétien and others wrote in French was no obstacle to the genre’s reception in England, where educated persons above a certain rung on the social ladder, from wealthy merchants to nobility, could be expected to have some command of the language. Over time the freshness of Arthurian romance subsided, and other genres began to take its place. Yet it never disappeared altogether (and aspects persist even today). Some of Chaucer’s works incorporate the conventions of courtly love, for example in Troilus and Criseyde and The Knight’s Tale, but it is telling that in The Canterbury Tales—and indeed in all of his works—the only Arthurian romance is the tale assigned to the Wife of Bath. However, even if poets rarely cultivated the genre in fourteenth-century England, an impressive number of manuscripts with older French Arthurian romances were owned by Englishmen. Two hundred years after Chrétien, “French Arthurian romances were still being read in bulk in England. . . . [They were] quite simply the most popular form of literary entertainment in the higher strata of society” (Putter 1995, 2).

When the Gawain-poet takes up the genre, it is old, familiar, and somewhat nostalgic. As an author his challenge is to breathe life back into it. The first two stanzas give a synopsis of the historical genealogy of Arthur going back to Brutus and Troy, and the poem’s final stanza circles back the same history, gesturing to “the best book of romance” and the “Brutus books” (2521, 2523) to lend ancient authority to the tale. This gesture to written authority (often an empty gesture, as here) is itself a time-honored convention, but in fact there are no known sources for the complete Sir Gawain. The poet took traditional materials and reworked them into a poem that resembles nothing else that comes before it.

The beheading scene, or more precisely the exchange of blows—a theme well-attested in folklore—seems to go back ultimately to a Celtic source, but the Gawain-poet most likely encountered it in Le Livre de Caradoc, which forms part of the First Continuation of Chrétien’s Perceval, which as with other French romances remained popular in England (Benson 1965, 16). What is most remarkable, however, are the systematic changes that the Gawain-poet makes to this source, so that little other than the basic framework of the exchange of blows remains. Even a quick glance at similar parts of Caradoc and Sir Gawain is enough to reveal the profound transformation.

On the other hand, the temptation scenes, the hunting scenes, and the exchange of winnings motif are less clearly dependent on any sources known to us. Even if there were sources now lost, it seems certain that the Gawain-poet reworked them as thoroughly for his purposes as he did Caradoc. Most significantly, he transforms each of these traditional sources or themes as he weaves them into a unified story in the service of a guiding artistic vision.

For example, the opening two-stanza prologue emphasizes the chronological distance between the reader and Camelot. One way this is achieved is by making Arthur and his contemporaries child-like as they enjoy the innocent pleasures of their Yule festivities. Arthur is “youthful” and “juvenile” with “young blood”; and upon surveying the court, the Green Knight insults Arthur and his knights by calling them “beardless children.” This emphasis on human youthfulness superimposed on the chronological distance of Camelot reinforces the narrator’s judgment that “this fair folk” was “in their first age,” an age that, however noble and chivalric, is also naive in its remote innocence. The poet’s or the reader’s society, by contrast, may be older and wiser, but such experience comes at the cost of skepticism about the noblest human ideals. The important point, however, is that these details reveal the imaginative power of the Gawain-poet in manipulating traditional material. There is nothing like it in Caradoc.

Narrative Technique

The best way to introduce the poem’s narrative technique is to plunge into a sample passage. In the beheading scene at the Chapel, the Green Knight makes two feints with his ax before delivering a “snick” on Gawain’s neck. Upon seeing drops of his blood fall on the snow, Gawain springs away and turns in vigorous challenge, assuming a fighting stance. The Green Knight will have none of it, as is clear from what today we would call his body language:

The horseman held himself back,             and on his ax rested,

Set the shaft upon shore,             and on the sharp leaned,

And looked to the liegeman             that on the land went

How that doughty, dreadless,              dauntless there stands

Armed, full fearless:             in heart it pleases him. (2331–35)

The visual contrast of Bertilak’s leaning on his ax while looking with amused detachment at Gawain braced for a fight says more about their respective attitudes than dozens of lines of description possibly could. On the one side is a display of valor appropriate to an Arthurian knight, on the other a posture that is indifferent to that valor. The grisly ax becomes a prop for relaxation. Like a painting in two panels, the two images perform an important narrative function, because now the reader’s point of view begins to align with Bertilak’s. Up to this point the narrative has privileged Gawain’s experiences, his adherence to the chivalric code. But Bertilak’s relaxed pose subtly draws the reader away from Gawain’s perspective, especially after the potentially comic preparation to fight (he broad-jumps and claps his helmet on his head); yet Gawain’s reaction “pleases” the reader “in heart” as it does Bertilak. Despite the distancing, despite the fact that the poem does not simply celebrate chivalric ideals as would, say, a French romance from an earlier generation, the reader can nevertheless admire Gawain for his chivalry. To describe this complex yet deft narrative balancing act, Benson makes a useful distinction between unromantic and antiromantic sympathies (Benson 1965, 243). An antiromantic narrative criticizes the unrealistic ideals of pure romance, where rigid adherence to an idealized code of honor leads to self-destruction, as it does eventually to the entire Round Table. The unromantic merely adopts a point of view outside the romance’s frame of reference and accepts it as a literary convention. It says that romance is not to be mistaken for reality. Bertilak admires Gawain for the reasons that the poem’s readers have always done, but he holds back, leaning on his ax as he watches the action unfold, as if he were a character who can shift to a position outside of the romance genre. At this point it is as though he is in the romance but not of the romance.

This dichotomy between Bertilak’s detachment and Gawain’s earnestness continues in the following scene, when Bertilak reveals his admiration for Gawain’s exemplary character: compared with other knights he is like a pearl among white peas. But he “lacked a little” in upholding his oath, because he took the girdle. Gawain responds with an outburst condemning himself for cowardice, covetousness, and falseness. What is Bertilak’s response to Gawain’s self-condemnation? He laughs “lovingly.” In other words, Bertilak’s laughter does not spring from mockery or contempt but rather from a generosity of spirit because he can see beyond Gawain’s horizons of romance, or he finds himself on the outside looking in. Gawain’s earnest confession may be appropriate for a knight upholding the absolute ideals of chivalry, but from Bertilak’s unromantic point of view those ideals remain out of reach to fallible humans and so excessive that they can seem comic.

The diptych of the Green Knight leaning on his ax and Gawain braced to fight is but one example of the poet’s characteristic and pervasive use of concrete visual images. It is not the only such image from this scene, because Gawain leaps away only after seeing his blood shoot to the earth, where it lies in “bright” contrast to the snow on the ground (2314–15). For him, the red blood on white snow is a sign of life. An attentive reader might also be reminded of parallels to the Lady’s complexion “Both white and red in blend” (1205) when she first visits him in bed, or even the Green Knight’s red eyes (303) as he surveys Arthur’s court. Elsewhere, the detailed description of slaughtering and dressing the slain deer, for example, seems to relish visual detail for its own sake. Such emphasis on the concrete creates a sense of realism, making Gawain’s blood and the deer’s carcass each within imaginative grasp.

The poem’s expert use of visual detail contributes to the psychological portrayal of character. For the most part the narrative does not disclose the thoughts and emotions of Gawain or other characters via an omniscient narrator, yet there is no doubt about Gawain’s terror when he hears the loud noise of the grindstone sharpening the Green Knight’s ax, or his confusion when Lady Bertilak first approaches him in bed, because the concrete descriptions shade toward his point of view.

Another measure of the poem’s careful construction are the various symmetries built in to the narrative. Parallels abound: two castles and two courts, two beheading scenes, two confession scenes, a double identity for the Green Knight/Bertilak, and more. The three-part parallels are less frequent, but no less significant. Each of the three hunting scenes is interrupted by the bedroom scene of Lady Bertilak’s morning visits to Gawain, where (in a brilliant piece of narrative patterning) she is the hunter and he is her quarry. Even at a level as small as the verse line, the first half balances the second, linked by alliteration; and the syntax often works by juxtaposing one clause with another, which allows the reader to interpret what the pairing means. The poem’s architectural symmetry is pervasive, from the smallest detail to the largest elements of structure.

The poem is no less rich in symbolism, even if the values symbolized are often ambiguous. A partial list would include the intruding knight’s green color, the holly sprig he carries, the pentangle on Gawain’s shield (with its elaborate description), the animals hunted, the tumulus “chapel,” and the winter season — including the winter solstice, snow, the feast of Christmas, and New Year’s day. Might the snow, for example, signify innocence in its blankness? Or cold sterility? Or seasonal death? Or instead of death, does it become a sign of a fresh start in life, not unlike baptism, after Gawain’s blood hits it? Does it signify the soul’s purity after confession? The green girdle is richly malleable in what it signifies, because Lady Bertilak, the Green Knight, Gawain, and the Arthurian court each ascribe different values to it at different times. And the meaning ascribed is a sure indication of the lesson drawn from Gawain’s adventures by each interpreter.

Themes

As an Arthurian romance, the core themes revolve around Gawain’s reputation as a lover and as a fighter; the former is measured by his courtesy and the latter by his bravery. Today (not the fourteenth century) both aspects of the romance hero are conveyed by the term “chivalry.” On two occasions Gawain’s public reputation for chivalry is called into question. Although both are delivered in mock-seriousness, the accusation stings. “But that ye be Gawain,” accuses the Lady at the end of their first interview in the bedroom, “it goes against what I know.” (1293; similarly 1481) The real Gawain, the Gawain known through old romances, would not part company after spending so much time with a lady without craving a kiss “by his courtesy.” He apologizes, they kiss, and the game of exchanging kisses begins. “Thou art not Gawain,” accuses the Green Knight after Gawain flinches when the ax first comes down, because his courage has failed him: “thou fleest for fear ere thou feel harms!” (2270, 2272) These two accusations strike at the core of Gawain’s public reputation as a lover and a fighter, although each is less a serious accusation than a rhetorical ploy calculated to manipulate him.

What ultimately motivates Gawain’s reputation as a lover and a fighter is a sense of honor, or its more tangible manifestation known as trawþe in the original, which is here translated as troth. The word’s meaning in the fourteenth century has the practical connotations of keeping one’s word in society; it is both personal and public, yet the public aspect is indispensable (Green 1999). It is important to bear this in mind, because today “honor” can seem more of an abstraction, like an inner virtue somehow nurtured outside of public view, or like funds kept in a bank account ready for occasional withdrawals. In an Arthurian romance honor is nothing if it is not public; it is nothing if it is not displayed in action. After he is beheaded in Camelot, the Green Knight enjoins Gawain to seek him out in a year and a day bi þi trawþe, in the words of the original, and Gawain answers that he will, by my seker traweþ, “by my sure troth.” As important as it is that Gawain stakes his personal reputation on keeping his word, it is just as important that he declares it in a public setting. Later in the story, when the guide tries to dissuade Gawain from completing his quest at the green chapel, part of the shame of turning away would be the very unpublic nature of such a dishonorable course of action.

Honor, courtesy, and bravery are staples of almost any romance. Another prevalent theme in Sir Gawain involves game-playing. In any game, whether it is tic-tac-toe or the most complex role-playing game, the participants agree to abide by a set of rules that guides their actions. It is limited in having a beginning and an end, and its rules are typically separate from the usual rules of conduct in society. Unless something is amiss, people know when they are engaging in a game and when they are not, and playing it should give pleasure. Some games can be spontaneous, such as the exchange of blows proposed by the Green Knight on New Year’s Day in Camelot. Before Gawain swings the ax, he swears to abide by the agreement which, despite its formal language of “troth” and the like, is essentially a game. The pleasure derived from decapitating a giant may be doubtful; the onlookers in Camelot seemed stunned—what kind of game is this?—which is one reason that no knight accepts the challenge at first. Fear is another. But once shamed into action, first Arthur and then Gawain accept the challenge because the return blow seems highly unlikely; from Gawain’s perspective, how can he fail to win? Another spontaneous game is the exchange of winnings between Bertilak and Gawain. This one, by contrast, seems like frivolous fun, as host and guest publicly and ceremoniously exchange their winnings at the end of each day—such as three kisses for a fox skin—with much laughter. Its non-serious nature allows Gawain to convince himself to accept and conceal the green girdle in breach of the game’s rules. After all, it’s just a game. Yet these two games compose the plot of a poem with few peers: Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.

Select Bibliography

Verse translations

Armitage, Simon, trans. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight: A New Verse Translation. 1st American ed. New York: W.W. Norton, 2007.

Borroff, Marie, trans. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. A New Verse Translation. 1st ed. New York: Norton, 1967.

Merwin, W. S., trans. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight: A New Verse Translation. 1st ed. New York: Knopf, 2002.

O’Donoghue, Bernard, trans. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Penguin Classics. London: Penguin, 2006.

Tolkien, J. R. R., trans. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Pearl, and Sir Orfeo. 1st American ed. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1975.

Critical Studies

Benson, Larry Dean. Art and Tradition in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1965.

Borroff, Marie. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight: A Stylistic and Metrical Study, Yale Studies in English, V. 152. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1962.

Borroff, Marie, and Laura L. Howes, edd. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight: An Authoritative Translation, Contexts, Criticism. 1st ed, Norton Critical Edition. New York: W.W. Norton, 2010.

Green, Richard Firth. A Crisis of Truth: Literature and Law in Ricardian England, The Middle Ages Series. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1999.

Hanna, Ralph, III. “Unlocking What’s Locked: Gawain’s Green Girdle.” Viator: Medieval and Renaissance Studies 14 (1983): 289-302.

Heng, Geraldine. “A Woman Wants: The Lady, Gawain, and the Forms of Seduction.” The Yale Journal of Criticism: Interpretation in the Humanities 5, no. 3 (1992): 101-34.

Mann, Jill. “Courtly Aesthetics and Courtly Ethics in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.” Studies in the Age of Chaucer: The Yearbook of the New Chaucer Society 31 (2009): 231-65.

Putter, Ad. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight and French Arthurian Romance. Oxford: Clarendon Press; New York: Oxford University Press, 1995.

Spearing, A. C. The Gawain-Poet; a Critical Study. Cambridge [Eng.]: University Press, 1970.

Staley, Lynn. The Voice of the Gawain-Poet. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1984.

Stanbury, Sarah. Seeing the Gawain-Poet: Description and the Act of Perception, Middle Ages Series. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1991.

Editions

Andrew, Malcolm, and R. A. Waldron, edd. The Poems of the Pearl Manuscript: Pearl, Cleanness, Patience and Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. 5th ed., Exeter Medieval English Texts and Studies. Exeter: University of Exeter Press, 2007.

Tolkien, J. R. R., E. V. Gordon, and Norman Davis, ed. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. 2nd ed. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1967.

A Note on the Middle English Original Text

The Middle English text, edited by Donoghue, accepts for the most part the emendations found in Davis’s revision of Gordon and Tolkien’s edition (1967), with the following exceptions: Ticius (11), glaumande (line 46), cayre? (734), ny?t (929), ?if (2343). It retains the letter yogh <?> from the manuscript in word-final position when it conveys the sound [z], as in cayre?. Punctuation, capitalization, and word division have been changed throughout. The format of the alliterative lines follows the manuscript in leaving the mid-line caesura unmarked even though the rhythm of each line consistently breaks into two halves; the translation, however, indicates the caesura with a space as an aid to the reader.

A Note on the Electronic Text

In converting from a printed to an electronic format, some changes in presentation were necessary to allow for comparison between Larry D. Benson’s translation and the Middle English original. Rather than a facing-page translation, here each stanza of the modern translation is followed by the corresponding stanza of the Middle English. This way of alternating stanzas will allow readers to move efficiently through the narrative, while making it comparatively easy for them to consult the original text.

Sir Gawain and the

Green Knight

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

I.

1 Once the siege and assault            had ceased at Troy,

2 The burg battered and burned            to brands and ashes,

3 The trooper that the tricks            of treason there wrought

4 Was tried for his treachery,            the truest on earth.

5 It was Aeneas the noble            and his high-born kin

6 Who then despoiled provinces            and patrons became

7 Well nigh of all the wealth            of the West Isles.[1]

8 Then rich Romulus to Rome            rushes him swiftly,

9 With great splendor that burg            he builds at first,

10 And names it his own name,            as it now has.

11 Ticius to Tuscany            and towns he builds;

12 Longabeard in Lombardy            lifts up homes;

13 And far over the French Flood            Felix Brutus

14 On many banks full broad            Britain he sets

15 To begin.

16 Where war and wrack and wonder

17 Have often flourished there-in,

18 And oft both bliss and blunder

19 Have ruled in turn since then.

Sir Gawayn and þe Grene Knyght

I.

1 Siþen þe sege and þe assaut wat? sesed at Troye,

2 Þe bor? brittened and brent to bronde? and aske?,

3 Þe tulk þat þe trammes of tresoun þer wro?t

4 Wat? tried for his tricherie, þe trewest on erþe.

5 Hit wat? Ennias þe athel, and his highe kynde,

6 Þat siþen depreced prouinces, and patrounes bicome

7 Wel ne?e of al þe wele in þe West Iles.

8 Fro riche Romulus to Rome ricchis hym swyþe,

9 With gret bobbaunce þat bur?e he biges vpon fyrst,

10 And neuenes hit his aune nome, as hit now hat;

11 Ticius to Tuskan and teldes bigynnes,

12 Langaberde in Lumbardie lyftes vp homes,

13 And fer ouer þe French flod Felix Brutus

14 On mony bonkkes ful brode Bretayn he sette?

15 wyth wynne,

16 Where werre and wrake and wonder

17 Bi syþe? hat? wont þerinne,

18 And oft boþe blysse and blunder

19 Ful skete hat? skyfted synne.

20 And when this Britain was built            by this brave knight

21 Bold men bred there-in            —battles they loved—

22 Who in many a turbulent time            troubles have wrought.

23 More wonders on this field            have befallen here oft

24 Than on any other that I know            since that noble time.

25 But of all that here built            of British kings

26 Ever was Arthur the most elegant,            as I have heard tell.

27 Therefore an earthly adventure            I aim to show,

28 That a strange sight            some men it hold,

29 And an awesome adventure            of Arthur’s wonders.

30 If you will listen to this lay            but a little while

31 I shall tell it at once,            as I in town heard

32 With tongue,

33 As it is set down and struck

34 In story stout and strong.

35 With true letters interlocked

36 In this land as has been long.

20 Ande quen þis Bretayn wat? bigged bi þis burn rych,

21 Bolde bredden þerinne—baret þat lofden—

22 In mony turned tyme tene þat wro?ten.

23 Mo ferlyes on þis folde han fallen here oft

24 Þen in any oþer þat I wot, syn þat ilk tyme.

25 Bot of alle þat here bult, of Bretaygne kynges,

26 Ay wat? Arthur þe hendest, as I haf herde telle.

27 Forþi an aunter in erde I attle to schawe,

28 Þat a selly in si?t summe men hit holden,

29 And an outtrage awenture of Arthure? wondere?.

30 If ?e wyl lysten þis laye bot on littel quile,

31 I schal telle hit as-tit, as I in toun herde,

32 with tonge,

33 As hit is stad and stoken

34 In stori stif and stronge,

35 With lel letteres loken,

36 In londe so hat? ben longe.

37 This king lay at Camelot            upon Christmas time

38 With many loyal lords,            lads of the best,

39 Renowned of the Round Table            all those rich brethren,

40 With rich revel aright            and reckless mirth.

41 There tourneyed troopers            by times full many,

42 Jousted full jollily            these gentle knights,

43 Then came to the court            carols to make,

44 For there the feasting was the same            for a full fifteen days

45 With all the meals and the mirth            that man could devise;

46 Such gladness and glee            glorious to hear,

47 Dear din upon day,            dancing at night;

48 All was happiness on high            in halls and chambers,

49 With lords and ladies,            and most lovely it seemed.

50 With all the wealth of the world            they dwelt there together,

51 The best known knights            under Christ Himself,

52 And the loveliest ladies            that ever life had,

53 And he the comeliest king            that the court holds;

54 For all was this fair folk            in their first age,

55 And still

56 The most fortunate known to fame,

57 The king highest man of will.

58 It would now be hard to name

59 So hardy a host on hill.

37 Þis kyng lay at Camylot vpon Krystmasse

38 With mony luflych lorde, lede? of þe best,

39 Rekenly of þe Rounde Table alle þo rich breþer,

40 With rych reuel ory?t and rechles merþes.

41 Þer tournayed tulkes by tyme? ful mony,

42 Justed ful jolilé þise gentyle kni?tes,

43 Syþen kayred to þe court caroles to make.

44 For þer þe fest wat? ilyche ful fiften dayes,

45 With alle þe mete and þe mirþe þat men couþe avyse;

46 Such glaumande gle glorious to here,

47 Dere dyn vpon day, daunsyng on ny?tes,

48 Al wat? hap vpon he?e in halle? and chambre?

49 With lorde? and ladies, as leuest him þo?t.

50 With all þe wele of þe worlde þay woned þer samen,

51 Þe most kyd kny?te? vnder Krystes seluen,

52 And þe louelokkest ladies þat euer lif haden,

53 And he þe comlokest kyng þat þe court haldes;

54 For al wat? þis fayre folk in her first age,

55 on sille,

56 Þe hapnest vnder heuen,

57 Kyng hy?est mon of wylle;

58 Hit were now gret nye to neuen

59 So hardy a here on hille.

60 While New Year was so young,            since it was newly come,

61 That day with double portions            were the diners served,

62 For the king was come            with knights into the hall,

63 The chanting in the chapel            achieved an end.

64 Loud cries were there cast            by clerics and others,

65 “Noel” named anew,            announced full oft;

66 And then the rich run forth            to render presents

67 Yelled “Year’s gifts!” on high,            yielding them by hand,

68 Debated busily            about those gifts;

69 Ladies laughed full loud,            though they had lost,

70 And he that won was not wroth,            that may you well believe.

71 All this mirth they made            until the meal time.

72 When they had washed worthily,            they went to sit,

73 The best brave always above,            as it best seemed;

74 Queen Guenevere, full gay,            graced the middle,

75 Bedecked on the dear dais,            adorned all about,

76 Fine silk at her sides,            a ceiling above

77 Of rich cloth of Toulouse,            and of Tartary[2] many tapestries

78 Embroidered and bedecked            with the best gems

79 That might be proven in price            with pounds to buy

80 In our day.

81 The comeliest to see

82 There gleamed with eyes of gray;

83 A fairer that ever could be

84 In sooth might no man say.

60 Wyle Nw ?er wat? so ?ep þat hit wat? nwe cummen,

61 Þat day doubble on þe dece wat? þe douth serued,

62 Fro þe kyng wat? cummen with kny?tes into þe halle,

63 Þe chauntré of þe chapel cheued to an ende.

64 Loude crye wat? þer kest of clerke? and oþer,

65 “Nowel” nayted onewe, neuened ful ofte;

66 And syþen riche forth runnen to reche hondeselle,

67 ?e?ed “?eres-?iftes!” on hi?, ?elde hem bi hond,

68 Debated busyly aboute þo giftes;

69 Ladies la?ed ful loude, þo? þay lost haden,

70 And he þat wan wat? not wrothe, þat may ?e wel trawe.

71 Alle þis mirþe þay maden to þe mete tyme.

72 When þay had waschen worþyly þay wenten to sete,

73 Þe best burne ay abof, as hit best semed;

74 Whene Guenore, ful gay, grayþed in þe myddes,

75 Dressed on þe dere des, dubbed al aboute,

76 Smal sendal bisides, a selure hir ouer

77 Of tryed tolouse, and tars tapites innoghe,

78 Þat were enbrawded and beten wyth þe best gemmes

79 Þat my?t be preued of prys wyth penyes to bye,

80 in daye.

81 Þe comlokest to discrye

82 Þer glent with y?en gray;

83 A semloker þat euer he sy?e

84 Soth mo?t no mon say.

85 But Arthur would not eat            until all were served,

86 He was so jolly and joyful,            and somewhat juvenile:

87 He liked his life light;            he loved least

88 Either too long to lie            or too long to sit

89 So busied him his young blood            and his brain wild.

90 And also another matter            moved him as well,

91 That he had adopted for nobility:            he would never eat

92 Upon such a dear day            ere he was told

93 Of some adventurous thing,            an astonishing tale

94 Of some mighty marvel            that he might believe

95 Of our elders, of arms,            of other adventures,

96 Or some stalwart besought him            for some true knight

97 To join with him in jousting,            in jeopardy to lay

98 At risk life for life,            each happy if the other

99 By Fortune was favored            the advantage to have.

100 This was the king’s custom            whenever he was in court

101 At each fine feast            among his fair retinue

102 In hall.

103 Therefore of face so fair

104 He stands strong at his stall.

105 Full youthful in that New Year,

106 Much mirth he makes with all.

85 Bot Arthure wolde not ete til al were serued,

86 He wat? so joly of his joyfnes, and sumquat childgered:

87 His lif liked hym ly?t; he louied þe lasse

88 Auþer to longe lye or to longe sitte,

89 So bisied him his ?onge blod and his brayn wylde.

90 And also an oþer maner meued him eke

91 Þat he þur? nobelay had nomen: he wolde neuer ete

92 Vpon such a dere day er hym deuised were

93 Of sum auenturus þyng, an vncouþe tale,

94 Of sum mayn meruayle þat he my?t trawe,

95 Of alderes, of armes, of oþer auenturus,

96 Oþer sum segg hym biso?t of sum siker kny?t

97 To joyne wyth hym in iustyng, in jopardé to lay

98 Lede lif for lyf, leue vchon oþer

99 As fortune wolde fulsun hom, þe fayrer to haue.

100 Þis wat? þe kynges countenaunce where he in court were,

101 At vch farand fest among his fre meny

102 in halle.

103 Þerfore of face so fere

104 He sti?tle? stif in stalle.

105 Ful ?ep in þat Nw ?ere

106 Much mirthe he mas withalle.

107 Thus there stands at his stall            the strong king himself,

108 Talking before the high table            of trifles full courtly.

109 There good Gawain was seated            Guenevere beside,

110 And Agravain of the Hard Hand            on that other side sits,

111 Both the king’s sister’s sons            and full sure knights.

112 Bishop Baldwin above            begins the table

113 And Ywain, Urien’s son,            ate with Arthur himself.

114 These were dining on the dais,            diligently served,

115 And next were many sure stalwarts            at the sideboards.

116 Then the first course came            with cracking of trumpets

117 With many banners full bright            that there-by hung;

118 New noise of drums            with the noble pipes,

119 Wild warbles and loud            wakened echoes,

120 That many hearts heaved            full high at their notes.

121 Dainties drummed in there-with            of many dear foods,

122 Full plenty of fresh food            and on so many fair dishes

123 That it was a pain to find place            the people before

124 To set the silver that held            the separate stews

125                  On cloth.

126 Each lad as he loved himself

127 There dined, nothing loath;

128 Each two had dishes twelve,

129 Good beer and bright wine both.

107 Thus þer stondes in stale þe stif kyng hisseluen,

108 Talkkande bifore þe hy?e table of trifles ful hende.

109 There gode Gawan wat? grayþed Gwenore bisyde,

110 And Agrauayn a la Dure Mayn on þat oþer syde sittes,

111 Boþe þe kynges sistersunes and ful siker kni?tes.

112 Bischop Bawdewyn abof bigine? þe table,

113 And Ywan, Vryn son, ette with hymseluen.

114 Þise were di?t on þe des and derworþly serued,

115 And siþen mony siker segge at þe sidborde?.

116 Þen þe first cors come with crakkyng of trumpes,

117 Wyth mony baner ful bry?t þat þerbi henged;

118 Nwe nakryn noyse with þe noble pipes,

119 Wylde werbles and wy?t wakned lote,

120 Þat mony hert ful hi?e hef at her towches.

121 Dayntés dryuen þerwyth of ful dere metes,

122 Foysoun of þe fresche, and on so fele disches

123 Þat pine to fynde þe place þe peple biforne

124 For to sette þe sylueren þat sere sewes halden

125 on clothe.

126 Iche lede as he loued hymselue

127 Þer la?t withouten loþe;

128 Ay two had disches twelue,

129 Good ber and bry?t wyn boþe.

130 Now will I of their service            say you no more,

131 For each warrior may well know            no want was there.

132 Another noise full new            quickly came nigh

133 That the lord might have leave            to lift up his food,

134 For hardly was the noise            not a while ceased,

135 And the first course in the court            courteously served,

136 There hastens in at the hall door            an awesome figure,

137 One of the most on earth            in measure of height,

138 From the neck to the waist            so well-built and square,

139 And his loins and his limbs            so long and so big

140 Half a giant in earth            I affirm that he was;

141 Yet man must I nonetheless            admit him to be

142 And that the merriest in his muchness            that might ride,

143 For though of back and of breast            his body was stout,

144 Both his belly and his waist            were worthily slim,

145 And all his features conforming,            in form that he had,

146 Full clean.

147 But great wonder of the hue men had

148 Set in his complexion seen:

149 He fared like a fighter to dread,

150 And over all deep green.

130 Now wyl I of hor seruise say yow no more,

131 For vch wy?e may wel wit no wont þat þer were.

132 An oþer noyse ful newe ne?ed biliue,

133 Þat þe lude my?t haf leue liflode to cach;

134 For vneþe wat? þe noyce not a whyle sesed,

135 And þe fyrst cource in þe court kyndely serued,

136 Þer hales in at þe halle dor an aghlich mayster,

137 On þe most on þe molde on mesure hyghe,

138 Fro þe swyre to þe swange so sware and so þik,

139 And his lyndes and his lymes so longe and so grete,

140 Half etayn in erde I hope þat he were;

141 Bot mon most I algate mynn hym to bene,

142 And þat þe myriest in his muckel þat my?t ride,

143 For of bak and of brest al were his bodi sturne,

144 Both his wombe and his wast were worthily smale,

145 And alle his fetures folyande, in forme þat he hade,

146 ful clene;

147 For wonder of his hwe men hade,

148 Set in his semblaunt sene:

149 He ferde as freke were fade,

150 And oueral enker grene.

151 And all garbed in green            this gallant and his clothes:

152 A straight coat full tight            that stuck to his sides,

153 A merry mantle above,            embellished within

154 With finely trimmed furs,            a facing full bright

155 Of handsome white ermine            and his hood as well,

156 That was lifted from his locks            and laid on his shoulders;

157 Neat well-fitting hose            of that same green

158 That covered his calves,            and shining spurs below

159 Of bright gold, on silken borders            embroidered full rich,

160 And with fine shoes below the shanks            the chevalier rides,

161 And all his vesture verily            was verdant green,

162 Both the bars of his belt            and other bright stones,

163 That were richly arranged            in his array completely

164 About himself and his saddle,            upon silk works

165 That would be too toilsome to tell            of trifles the half

166 That were embroidered above,            with insects, and birds

167 With gay gems of green,            and gold intermingled,

168 The pendants of his horse trappings,            the proud crupper;

169 His mount’s bit and all the metal            enamelled was then,

170 The stirrups that he stood on            colored the same,

171 And his saddle-bow next            and its elegant skirts

172 That ever glimmered and glowed            all of green stones.

173 The foal he fares on            fully of that same hue,

174 Certain:

175 A green horse great and thick,

176 A steed full stiff to restrain;

177 In embroidered bridle quick,

178 For the gallant who held the rein.

151 Ande al grayþed in grene þis gome and his wedes:

152 A strayte cote ful stre?t, þat stek on his sides,

153 A meré mantile abof, mensked withinne

154 With pelure pured apert, þe pane ful clene

155 With blyþe blaunner ful bry?t, and his hod boþe,

156 Þat wat? la?t fro his lokke? and layde on his schulderes;

157 Heme wel-haled hose of þat same,

158 Þat spenet on his sparlyr, and clene spures vnder

159 Of bry?t golde, vpon silk bordes barred ful ryche,

160 And scholes vnder schankes þere þe schalk rides,

161 And alle his vesture uerayly wat? clene verdure,

162 Boþe þe barres of his belt and oþer blyþe stones,

163 Þat were richely rayled in his aray clene

164 Aboutte hymself and his sadel, vpon silk werke?.

165 Þat were to tor for to telle of tryfles þe halue

166 Þat were enbrauded abof, wyth bryddes and fly?es,

167 With gay gaudi of grene, þe golde ay inmyddes,

168 Þe pendauntes of his payttrure, þe proude cropure;

169 His molaynes, and alle þe metail anamayld was þenne,

170 Þe steropes þat he stod on stayned of þe same,

171 And his arsoun? al after and his aþel skyrtes,

172 Þat euer glemered and glent al of grene stones.

173 Þe fole þat he ferkkes on fyn of þat ilke,

174 sertayn:

175 A grene hors gret and þikke,

176 A stede ful stif to strayne;

177 In brawden brydel quik,

178 To þe gome he wat? ful gayn.

179 Well gay was this gallant            and his gear in green,

180 And the hair of his head            matching his horse.

181 Fair fanning locks            enfold his shoulders,

182 A beard big as a bush            over his breast hangs

183 That with the noble hair            that from his head reaches

184 Was clipped all around            above his elbows

185 That half his arms there-under            were held in the manner

186 Of a king’s cape            that encloses his neck;

187 The mane of that mighty horse            much to it like,

188 Well curled and combed            with knots full many,

189 Tied in with gold thread            about the fair green,

190 Always one strand of hair,            another of gold,

191 His tail and his topknot            twisted in braids,

192 And both bound with a band            of bright green,

193 Adorned with full dear gems            to the top of the tuft,

194 Then bound tightly with a thong,            trickily knotted above,

195 Where many bells full bright            of burnished gold rang.

196 Such a foal in the field            nor fighter that rides him

197 Was never seen in that hall            with sight ere that time

198 With eye.

199 He looked like lightning as light,

200 Said all that saw him come nigh;

201 It seemed that no man might

202 Such blows as his defy.

179 Wel gay wat? þis gome gered in grene,

180 And þe here of his hed of his hors swete.

181 Fayre fannand fax vmbefoldes his schulderes,

182 A much berd as a busk ouer his brest henges

183 Þat wyth his hi?lich here þat of his hed reches

184 Wat? euesed al vmbetorne abof his elbowes,

185 Þat half his armes þer-vnder were halched in þe wyse

186 Of a kynge? capados þat closes his swyre;

187 Þe mane of þat mayn hors much to hit lyke,

188 Wel cresped and cemmed, wyth knottes ful mony,

189 Folden in wyth fildore aboute þe fayre grene,

190 Ay a herle of þe here, an oþer of golde,

191 Þe tayl and his toppyng twynnen of a sute,

192 And bounden boþe wyth a bande of a bry?t grene,

193 Dubbed wyth ful dere stone?, as þe dok lasted,

194 Syþen þrawen wyth a þwong a þwarle knot alofte,

195 Þer mony belle? ful bry?t of brende golde rungen.

196 Such a fole vpon folde ne freke þat hym rydes

197 Wat? neuer sene in þat sale wyth sy?t er þat tyme

198 With y?e.

199 He loked as layt so ly?t,

200 So sayd al þat hym sy?e;

201 Hit semed as no mon my?t

202 Vnder his dyntte? dry?e.

203 Yet he had no helmet            nor hauberk neither,

204 Nor any armor nor plate            that pertained to arms,

205 Nor any spear nor any shield            to shove nor to smite,

206 But in his one hand            he had a holly branch,

207 That is greatest in green   when groves are bare,

208 And an ax in his other,            awesome and monstrous,

209 A spiteful ax to describe in speech,            if anyone could.

210 Near four feet in length            the large head had,

211 With a spike of green steel            and of hammered gold.

212 The bit burnished bright            with a broad edge,

213 As well shaped to shear            as a sharp razor.

214 By the hilt of the strong shaft            that stern one it gripped

215 That was wound with iron            to the weapon’s end,

216 And all engraved with green            in gracious works;

217 By a lace sash, coiled about,            that was tied at the head

218 And so down the shaft            looped full oft,

219 With fine tassles there-to            attached there-by,

220 And buttons of bright green,            embroidered full rich.

221 This horseman held his way in            and the hall enters,

222 Driving to the high dais—            no danger he feared;

223 Hailed he never any one            but high he looked over.

224 The first word that he whipped out:            “Where is,” he said,

225 “The governor of this gang?            Gladly I would

226 See that stalwart in sight            and speak with himself

227 And reason.”

228 To knights he cast his eyes

229 And rolled them up and down;

230 He stopped and studied to surmise

231 Who wields there most renown.

203 Wheþer hade he no helme ne hawbergh nauþer,

204 Ne no pysan ne no plate þat pented to armes,

205 Ne no schafte ne no schelde to schwue ne to smyte,

206 Bot in his on honde he hade a holyn bobbe,

207 Þat is grattest in grene when greue? ar bare,

208 And an ax in his oþer, a hoge and vnmete,

209 A spetos sparþe to expoun in spelle, quoso my?t.

210 Þe lenkþe of an eln?erde þe large hede hade,

211 Þe grayn al of grene stele and of golde hewen.

212 Þe bit burnyst bry?t, with a brod egge

213 As wel schapen to schere as scharp rasores.

214 Þe stele of a stif staf þe sturne hit bi grypte,

215 Þat wat? wounden wyth yrn to þe wande? ende,

216 And al bigrauen with grene in gracios werkes;

217 A lace lapped aboute, þat louked at þe hede,

218 And so after þe halme halched ful ofte,

219 Wyth tryed tassele? þerto tacched inno?e

220 On botoun? of þe bry?t grene brayden ful ryche.

221 Þis haþel helde? hym in and þe halle entres,

222 Driuande to þe he?e dece — dut he no woþe;

223 Haylsed he neuer one, bot he?e he ouer loked.

224 Þe fyrst word þat he warp, “Wher is,” he sayd,

225 “Þe gouernour of þis gyng? Gladly I wolde

226 Se þat segg in sy?t, and with hymself speke

227 raysoun.”

228 To kny?te? he kest his y?e,

229 And reled hym vp and doun;

230 He stemmed, and con studie

231 Quo walt þer most renoun.

250 Then Arthur before the high dais            that adventure beholds

251 And rightly reverenced him,            for feared was he never,

252 And said “Warrior,            welcome indeed to this place;

253 The head of this hostel            Arthur I am called

254 Light lovely adown            and linger I pray thee

255 And whatever thy will is            we shall know later,”

256 “Nay, so help me,” quoth the horseman,            “He that on high sits,

257 To dwell any while in this dwelling            was not my errand;

258 But for the laud of thee, lad,            is lifted up so high,

259 And thy burg and thy braves            best are held,

260 Stoutest under steel gear            on steeds to ride,

261 The strongest and the worthiest            of this world’s kind,

262 With prowess in jousting            and other pure sports,

263 And here is famed courtesy,            as I have heard claimed,

264 And that has drawn me here,            indeed, at this time.

265 You may be sure by this branch            that I bear here

266 That I pass here in peace            and no peril seek,

267 For had I fared here with a force            for fighting ready,

268 I have a mail coat at home            and a helmet too,

269 A shield and a sharp spear,            shining bright,

270 And other weapons to wield            I know well also;

271 But since I want no war,            my weeds are softer.

272 But if thou be as bold            as all battlers tell,

273 Thou will grant me goodly            the game that I ask,

274 By right.”

275 Arthur gave answer

276 And said, “Sir courteous knight,

277 If thou crave battle of armor bare,

278 Here failest thou not to fight.”

250 Þenn Arþour bifore þe hi? dece þat auenture byholde?,

251 And rekenly hym reuerenced, for rad was he neuer,

252 And sayde, “Wy?e, welcum iwys to þis place;

253 Þe hede of þis ostel Arthour I hat;

254 Li?t luflych adoun and lenge, I þe praye,

255 And quat-so þy wylle is we schal wyt after.”

256 “Nay, as help me,” quoþ þe haþel, “he þat on hy?e syttes,

257 To wone any quyle in þis won, hit wat? not myn ernde;

258 Bot for þe los of þe, lede, is lyft vp so hy?e,

259 And þy bur? and þy burnes best ar holden,

260 Stifest vnder stel-gere on stedes to ryde,

261 Þe wy?test and þe worþyest of þe worldes kynde,

262 Preue for to play wyth in oþer pure layke?,

263 And here is kydde cortaysye, as I haf herd carp,

264 And þat hat? wayned me hider, iwyis, at þis tyme.

265 ?e may be seker bi þis braunch þat I bere here

266 Þat I passe as in pes, and no ply?t seche,

267 For had I founded in fere in fe?tyng wyse,

268 I haue a hauber?e at home and a helme boþe,

269 A schelde and a scharp spere, schinande bry?t,

270 Ande oþer weppenes to welde, I wene wel, als;

271 Bot for I wolde no were, my wede? ar softer.

272 Bot if þou be so bold as alle burne? tellen,

273 Þou wyl grant me godly þe gomen þat I ask,

274 bi ry?t.”

275 Arthour con onsware

276 And sayd, “Sir cortays kny?t,

277 If þou craue batayl bare,

278 Here fayle? þou not to fy?t.”

279 “Nay, I seek no fight,            in faith I thee tell.

280 Here about on this bench            are but beardless children.

281 If I were harnessed in armor            on a high steed

282 Here is no man to match me,            their mights are so weak.

283 Therefore I crave in this court            a Christmas game,

284 For it is Yule and New Year            and here are youths many.

285 If any so hardy in this house            holds himself,

286 Or is so bold in his blood,            brain-mad in his head

287 That dare stiffly strike            one stroke for another

288 I shall give him of my gift            this great battle-ax,

289 This ax, that is heavy enough,            to handle as he pleases,

290 And I shall abide the first blow            as bare as I sit.

291 If any fighter be so fierce            to test what I tell

292 Leap lightly to me            and lay hold of this weapon;

293 I quit-claim it forever;            let him keep it as his own,

294 And I shall stand one stroke from him,            stout on this floor,

295 If thou will grant me the right            to render him another.

296 —Time out today!—

297 And yet I give him respite,

298 A twelvemonth and a day.

299 Now hurry and let’s see aright

300 If any dare anything say.”

279 “Nay, frayst I no fy?t, in fayth I þe telle.

280 Hit arn aboute on þis bench bot berdle? chylder.

281 If I were hasped in armes on a he?e stede,

282 Here is no mon me to mach, for my?te? so wayke.

283 Forþy I craue in þis court a Crystemas gomen,

284 For hit is ?ol and Nwe ?er, and here ar ?ep mony.

285 If any so hardy in þis hous holde? hymseluen

286 Be so bolde in his blod, brayn in hys hede

287 Þat dar stifly strike a strok for an oþer

288 I schal gif hym of my gyft þys giserne ryche,

289 Þis ax, þat is heué innogh, to hondele as hym lykes,

290 And I schal bide þe fyrst bur as bare as I sitte.

291 If any freke be so felle to fonde þat I telle

292 Lepe ly?tly me to, and lach þis weppen;

293 I quit-clayme hit for euer, kepe hit as his auen,

294 And I schal stonde hym a strok, stif on þis flet,

295 Elle? þou wyl di?t me þe dom to dele hym an oþer

296 barlay —

297 And ?et gif hym respite,

298 A twelmonyth and a day.

299 Now hy?e, and let se tite

300 Dar any herinne o?t say.”

301 If he astounded them at first,            stiller were then

302 All the courtiers in the hall,            the high and the low;

303 The rider on his mount            moved him in his saddle

304 And roughly his red eyes            he rolled about,

305 Bent his bushy brows            brightly green,

306 Waved his beard to see            whoever would arise.

307 When none would keep him there with talk,            he coughed “ahem,”

308 And rose up full lordly            and readied himself to speak.

309 “What? Is this Arthur’s house”            quoth the horseman then,

310 “That all the renown runs            through realms so many?

311 Where is now your vainglory            and your victories,

312 Your ferocity and your grimness            and your great words?

313 Now is the revel and renown            of the Round Table

314 Overthrown by one word            of one warrior’s speech,

315 For all dither for dread            without deed shown!”

316 With this he laughs so loud            that the lord grieved.

317 The blood shot for shame            in his shining white face

318 So fair;

319 He waxed as wroth as wind,

320 So did all that were there.

321 The king, as keen by kind

322 Then strode that stout man nearer,

301 If he hem stowned vpon fyrst, stiller were þanne

302 Alle þe heredmen in halle, þe hy? and þe lo?e.

303 Þe renk on his rouncé hym ruched in his sadel,

304 And runischly his rede y?en he reled aboute,

305 Bende his bresed bro?e?, blycande grene,

306 Wayued his berde for to wayte quo-so wolde ryse.

307 When non wolde kepe hym with carp he co?ed ful hy?e,

308 Ande rimed hym ful richly, and ry?t hym to speke.

309 “What? Is þis Arthures hous,” quoþ þe haþel þenne,

310 “Þat al þe rous rennes of þur? ryalmes so mony?

311 Where is now your sourquydrye and your conquestes,

312 Your gryndellayk and your greme, and your grete wordes?

313 Now is þe reuel and þe renoun of þe Rounde Table

314 Ouerwalt wyth a worde of on wy?es speche,

315 For al dares for drede withoute dynt schewed!”

316 Wyth þis he la?es so loude þat þe lorde greued;

317 Þe blod schot for scham into his schyre face

318 and lere;

319 He wex as wroth as wynde,

320 So did alle þat þer were.

321 Þe kyng as kene bi kynde

322 Þen stod þat stif mon nere,

323 And said “Horseman, by heaven,            thine asking is foolish,

324 And as thou folly hast sought,            to find it thee behooves.

325 I know no gallant that is aghast            of thy great words.

326 Give me now thy great ax,            by God’s wounds,

327 And I shall bestow the boon            that thou hast begged.”

328 Lightly leaps he him to            and latches it from his hand

329 Then fiercely that other fighter            upon foot alights.

330 Now has Arthur his ax,            and the hilt grips,

331 And sternly swings it about,            and meant to strike with it;

332 The stout man before him            stood up straight,

333 Higher than any in the house,            by the head and more.

334 With stern stance where he stood            he stroked his beard,

335 And with a countenance dry            he drew down his coat,

336 No more moved nor dismayed            for his mighty blows

337 Than if any battler upon bench            had brought him a drink

338 Of wine.

339 Gawain, that sat by the queen,

340 To the king he did incline:

341 “I beseech now with plain speech

342 This melee may be mine.

323 Ande sayde, “Haþel, by heuen, þyn askyng is nys,

324 And as þou foly hat? frayst, fynde þe behoues.

325 I know no gome þat is gast of þy grete wordes.

326 Gif me now þy geserne, vpon Gode? halue,

327 And I schal bayþen þy bone þat þou boden habbes.”

328 Ly?tly lepe? he hym to, and la?t at his honde,

329 Þen feersly þat oþer freke vpon fote ly?tis.

330 Now hat? Arthure his axe, and þe halme grype?,

331 And sturnely sture? hit aboute, þat stryke wyth hit þo?t;

332 Þe stif mon hym bifore stod vpon hy?t,

333 Herre þen ani in þe hous by þe hede and more.

334 Wyth sturne schere þer he stod he stroked his berde,

335 And wyth a countenaunce dry?e he dro? doun his cote,

336 No more mate ne dismayd for hys mayn dinte?

337 Þen any burne vpon bench hade bro?t hym to drynk

338 of wyne.

339 Gawan, þat sate bi þe quene,

340 To þe kyng he can enclyne:

341 “I beseche now with sa?e? sene

342 Þis melly mot be myne.

343 “Would ye, worthy lord,”            quoth Wawain[3] to the king,

344 “Bid me bow from this bench            and stand by you there,

345 That I without vile manners            might vacate this table,

346 And providing my liege lady            be not ill pleased,

347 I would come to your counsel            before your rich court,

348 For I think it not seemly,            as it is sooth known

349 That such an asking be heaved up            so high in your hall,

350 Though you yourself be tempted            to take it to yourself

351 While so many bold about you            upon bench sit

352 That under heaven I hold            none hardier of will,

353 Nor better bodies on earth            where battle is reared.

354 I am the weakest, I know,            and of wit feeblest,

355 And my life would be the least loss,            to speak the sooth,

356 For only because you are my uncle            am I to be praised;

357 No goodness but your blood            I in my body know,

358 And since this business is so foolish,            it does not befit you,

359 And I have begged it of you first,            inflict it on me;

360 And if I speak not courteously,            let all this court rich

361 Me blame.”

362 Rich nobles gathered round

363 And they all advised the same:

364 To replace the king with crown,

365 And give Gawain the game.

343 “Wolde ?e, worþilych lorde,” quoþ Wawan to þe kyng,

344 “Bid me bo?e fro þis benche, and stonde by yow þere,

345 Þat I wythoute vylanye my?t voyde þis table,

346 And þat my legge lady lyked not ille,

347 I wolde com to your counseyl bifore your cort ryche,

348 For me þink hit not semly, as hit is soþ knawen,

349 Þer such an askyng is heuened so hy?e in your sale,

350 Þa? ?e ?ourself be talenttyf, to take hit to yourseluen,

351 Whil mony so bolde yow aboute vpon bench sytten,

352 Þat vnder heuen I hope non ha?erer of wylle,

353 Ne better bodyes on bent þer baret is rered.

354 I am þe wakkest, I wot, and of wyt feblest,

355 And lest lur of my lyf, quo laytes þe soþe;

356 Bot for as much as ?e ar myn em I am only to prayse;

357 No bounté bot your blod I in my bodé knowe,

358 And syþen þis note is so nys þat no?t hit yow falles,

359 And I haue frayned hit at yow fyrst, folde? hit to me;

360 And if I carp not comlyly, let alle þis cort rych

361 bout blame.”

362 Ryche togeder con roun,

363 And syþen þay redden alle same:

364 To ryd þe kyng wyth croun,

365 And gif Gawan þe game.

366 Then commanded the king            the knight for to rise,

367 And he full readily uprose            and arranged himself fairly,

368 Kneeled down before the king            and catches that weapon,

369 And Arthur lovingly left it to him            and lifted up his hands

370 And gave him God’s blessing            and gladly him bids

371 That his heart and his hands            should hardy be both.

372 “Take care, kinsman,” quoth the king,            “that thou cut but once.

373 And if thou deal with him rightly,            readily I believe

374 Thou shalt survive the blow            he shall bring there-after.”

375 Gawain goes to the gallant            with the great ax in hand,

376 And he boldly him abides;            he was abashed not at all.

377 Then calls out to Sir Gawain            the knight in the green,

378 “Let us affirm our pledge,            ere we further pace.

379 First I ask thee, horseman,            how thou art called;

380 That thou tell me truly,            so I can trust.”

381 “In good faith,” quoth the good knight,            “Gawain I am called,

382 Who grants thee this buffet,            whatever after befalls,

383 And from this time a twelvemonth            I will take from thee another,

384 With whatever weapon as thou wish            and with no other warrior

385 Alive.”

386 The other answers again:

387 “Sir Gawain, as I may thrive,

388 I am greatly glad, certain,

389 That thou this blow shalt drive.”

366 Þen comaunded þe kyng þe kny?t for to ryse,

367 And he ful radly vpros, and ruchched hym fayre,

368 Kneled doun bifore þe kyng, and cache? þat weppen,

369 And he luflyly hit hym laft, and lyfte vp his honde,

370 And gef hym Godde? blessyng, and gladly hym biddes

371 Þat his hert and his honde schulde hardi be boþe.

372 “Kepe þe, cosyn,” quoþ þe kyng, “þat þou on kyrf sette.

373 And if þou rede? hym ry?t, redly I trowe

374 Þat þou schal byden þe bur þat he schal bede after.”

375 Gawan got? to þe gome with giserne in honde,

376 And he baldly hym byde?, he bayst neuer þe helder.

377 Þen carppe? to Sir Gawan þe kny?t in þe grene,

378 “Refourme we oure forwardes, er we fyrre passe.

379 Fyrst I eþe þe, haþel, how þat þou hattes;

380 Þat þou me telle truly, as I tryst may.”

381 “In god fayth,” quoþ þe goode kny?t, “Gawan I hatte,

382 Þat bede þe þis buffet, quat-so bifalle? after,

383 And at þis tyme twelmonyth take at þe an oþer

384 Wyth what weppen so þou wylt, and wyth no wy? elle?

385 on lyue.”

386 Þat oþer onsware? agayn,

387 “Sir Gawan, so mot I þryue,

388 As I am ferly fayn

389 Þis dint þat þou schal dryue.

390 “By Gog!” quoth the green knight,            “Sir Gawain, I like it

391 That I shall feel from your fist,            the favor I have asked.

392 And thou hast readily rehearsed,            by reason full true,

393 Completely all the covenant            that I of the king asked,

394 Save that thou shall assure me,            good sir, by thy troth,

395 That thou shall seek me thyself,            wherever thou supposest

396 I may be found upon earth,            and fetch thee such wages

397 As thou dealest to me today            before this dear court.”

398 “Where should I wend to thee?” quoth Gawain,            “where is thy place?

399 I am not aware where thou dwellest,            by Him that me wrought,

400 Nor I know not thee, knight,            thy court nor thy name.

401 But teach me truly            and tell me how thou art called,

402 And I shall work with all my wit            to win my way thither,

403 And that I swear thee for sooth            and by my sure troth.”

404 “That is enough in the New Year;            it needs no more,”

405 Quoth the gallant in the green            to Gawain the courtier.

406 “If I tell thee truly            when I have tapped thee,

407 And thou me smoothly hast smitten,            smartly I will teach thee

408 Of my house and my home            and my own name.

409 Then may thou be my guest            and our agreements fulfill;

410 And if I cannot speak any speech,            then succeedest thou the better,

411 For thou may linger in thy land            and look no farther.

412 Thou spokest!

413 Take now thy grim tool, in truth,

414 And let’s see how thou pokest.”

415 “Gladly, sir, for sooth,”

416 Quoth Gawain; his ax he strokes.

390 “Bigog!” quoþ þe grene kny?t, “Sir Gawan, me lykes

391 Þat I schal fange at þy fust þat I haf frayst here.

392 And þou hat? redily rehersed, bi resoun ful trwe,

393 Clanly al þe couenaunt þat I þe kynge asked,

394 Saf þat þou schal siker me, segge, bi þi trawþe,

395 Þat þou schal seche me þiself, where-so þou hopes

396 I may be funde vpon folde, and foch þe such wages

397 As þou deles me to-day bifore þis douþe ryche.”

398 “Where schulde I wale þe,” quoþ Gauan, “where is þy place?

399 I wot neuer where þou wonyes, bi hym þat me wro?t,

400 Ne I know not þe, kny?t, þy cort ne þi name.

401 Bot teche me truly þerto, and telle me how þou hattes,

402 And I schal ware alle my wyt to wynne me þeder,

403 And þat I swere þe for soþe, and by my seker traweþ.”

404 “Þat is innogh in Nwe ?er; hit nedes no more,”

405 Quoþ þe gome in þe grene to Gawan þe hende.

406 “?if I þe telle trwly, quen I þe tape haue

407 And þou me smoþely hat? smyten, smartly I þe teche

408 Of my hous and my home and myn owen nome,

409 Þen may þou frayst my fare and forwarde? holde;

410 And if I spende no speche, þenne spede? þou þe better,

411 For þou may leng in þy londe and layt no fyrre —

412 bot slokes!

413 Ta now þy grymme tole to þe,

414 And let se how þou cnoke?.”

415 “Gladly, sir, for soþe,”

416 Quoþ Gawan; his ax he strokes.

417 This green knight upon ground            gracefully him readies,

418 A little bow with his head            the face he uncovers;

419 His long lovely locks            he laid over his crown

420 Let the naked neck            show to the nape.

421 Gawain gripped to his ax            and gathers it on high,

422 The left foot on the floor            he set before,

423 Let it down swiftly alight            on the naked skin

424 That the sharp of the chevalier            shattered the bones

425 And sheared through the shining flesh      and slashed it in two,

426 That the bit of the bright steel      bit on the ground.

427 The fair head from the neck      hit on the earth,

428 That full many it kicked with their feet,      where it forth rolled.

429 The blood poured from the body,            bright on the green,

430 And neither faltered nor fell            the fighter nonetheless,

431 But stoutly he starts forth            upon strong shanks,

432 And roughly he reached out            where riders stood,

433 Latched on to his lovely head,            and lifted it up soon;

434 And then bounded to his bronc,            the bridle he catches,

435 Steps into the stirrups,            strides aloft,

436 And his head by the hair            holds in his hand,

437 And as steadily the stalwart            sat him in his saddle,

438 As if no mishap had ailed him,            though headless now

439 Instead.

440 He twisted his trunk about,

441 That ugly body that bled;

442 Many feared the clout,

443 Ere his speech was said,

417 Þe grene kny?t vpon grounde grayþely hym dresses,

418 A littel lut with þe hede, þe lere he discouere?;

419 His longe louelych lokke? he layd ouer his croun,

420 Let þe naked nec to þe note schewe.

421 Gauan gripped to his ax, and gederes hit on hy?t,

422 Þe kay fot on þe folde he before sette,

423 Let him doun ly?tly ly?t on þe naked,

424 Þat þe scharp of þe schalk schyndered þe bones,

425 And schrank þur? þe schyre grece, and schade hit in twynne,

426 Þat þe bit of þe broun stel bot on þe grounde.

427 Þe fayre hede fro þe halce hit to þe erþe,

428 Þat fele hit foyned wyth her fete, þere hit forth roled.

429 Þe blod brayd fro þe body, þat blykked on þe grene,

430 And nawþer faltered ne fel þe freke neuer þe helder,

431 Bot styþly he start forth vpon styf schonkes,

432 And runyschly he ra?t out, þere as renkke? stoden,

433 La?t to his lufly hed, and lyft hit vp sone;

434 And syþen bo?e? to his blonk, þe brydel he cachche?,

435 Steppe? into stelbawe and stryde? alofte,

436 And his hede by þe here in his honde halde?,

437 And as sadly þe segge hym in his sadel sette

438 As non vnhap had hym ayled, þa? hedle? he were

439 in stedde.

440 He brayde his bulk aboute,

441 Þat vgly bodi þat bledde;

442 Moni on of hym had doute,

443 Bi þat his resoun? were redde,

444 For the head in his hand            he holds upright,

445 Toward the dearest on the dais            he addresses the face,

446 And it lifted up the eye-lids            and looked full widely about

447 And spoke thus much with its mouth,            as you may now hear:

448 “Look, Gawain, thou be prepared            to go as thou promised,

449 And look loyally till thou,            liegeman, find me,

450 As thou hast promised in this hall,            in these knights’ hearing;

451 To the Green Chapel choose the way,            I charge thee, to fetch

452 Such a dint as thou hast dealt            —thou hast deserved it—

453 To be promptly yielded            on New Year’s morn.

454 As the Knight of the Green Chapel,            men know me many.

455 Thus me for to find, if thou set forth,            failest thou never.

456 Therefore come or recreant            to be called thee deservest.”

457 With a rough roar            the reins he turns,

458 Hurried out at the hall door,            his head in his hand,

459 That the fire of the flint flew            from his foal’s hooves.

460 To what country that he came            knew none there,

461 No more than they knew            from whence he was come.

462 What then?

463 The king and Gawain there

464 At that green one they laugh and grin,

465 Yet recorded it was with care

466 As a marvel among those men.

444 For þe hede in his honde he halde? vp euen,

445 Toward þe derrest on þe dece he dresse? þe face,

446 And hit lyfte vp þe y?e-lydde? and loked ful brode,

447 And meled þus much with his muthe, as ?e may now here:

448 “Loke, Gawan, þou be grayþe to go as þou hette?,

449 And layte as lelly til þou me, lude, fynde,

450 As þou hat? hette in þis halle, herande þise kny?tes;

451 To þe grene chapel þou chose, I charge þe, to fotte

452 Such a dunt as þou hat? dalt—disserued þou habbe?—

453 To be ?ederly ?olden on Nw ?eres morn.

454 Þe Kny?t of þe Grene Chapel men knowen me mony;

455 Forþi me for to fynde if þou frayste?, fayle? þou neuer.

456 Þerfore com, oþer recreaunt be calde þe behoues.”

457 With a runisch rout þe rayne? he torne?,

458 Halled out at þe hal dor, his hed in his hande,

459 Þat þe fyr of þe flynt fla?e fro fole houes.

460 To quat kyth he becom knwe non þere,

461 Neuer more þen þay wyste from queþen he wat? wonnen.

462 What þenne?

463 Þe kyng and Gawen þare

464 At þat grene þay la?e and grenne,

465 ?et breued wat? hit ful bare

466 A meruayl among þo menne.

467 Though Arthur, the elegant king,            at heart had wonder,

468 He let no sign be seen,            but said full high

469 To the comely queen            with courteous speech,

470 “Dear dame, today            dismay you never;

471 Well becomes such craft            upon Christmas,

472 Playing of interludes            to laugh and to sing,

473 Among these courtly carols            of knights and ladies.

474 Nonetheless to my meal            I may me well address,

475 For I have seen a strange sight;            I can not gainsay it.”

476 He glanced at Sir Gawain            and goodly he said,

477 “Now sir, hang up thine ax,            that has enough hewed”;

478 And it was done, above the dais            on the tapestry hanging,

479 Where all men for a marvel            might look on it

480 And be truly entitled there-of            to tell the wonder.

481 Then they bounded to the board,            these battlers together,

482 The king and the good knight,            and keen men them served

483 With all dainties double,            as to the dearest should befall;

484 With all manner of meat            and minstrelsy both,

485 With wealth dwelt they that day,            until it went to an end

486 In land.

487 Now, think well, Sir Gawain,

488 Lest for fear of what thou began,

489 Thou from this adventure refrain

490 That thou hast taken in hand.

467 Þa? Arþer, þe hende kyng, at hert hade wonder,

468 He let no semblaunt be sene, bot sayde ful hy?e

469 To þe comlych quene wyth cortays speche,

470 “Dere dame, to-day demay yow neuer;

471 Wel bycommes such craft vpon Cristmasse,

472 Laykyng of enterlude?, to la?e and to syng,

473 Among þise kynde caroles of kny?te? and ladye?.

474 Neuer þe lece to my mete I may me wel dres,

475 For I haf sen a selly, I may not forsake.”

476 He glent vpon Sir Gawen and gaynly he sayde,

477 “Now, sir, heng vp þyn ax, þat hat? inno? hewen”;

478 And hit wat? don abof þe dece on doser to henge,

479 Þer alle men for meruayl my?t on hit loke,

480 And bi trwe tytel þerof to telle þe wonder.

481 Þenne þay bo?ed to a borde þise burnes togeder,

482 Þe kyng and þe gode kny?t, and kene men hem serued

483 Of alle dayntye? double, as derrest my?t falle;

484 Wyth alle maner of mete and mynstralcie boþe,

485 Wyth wele walt þe day, til worþed an ende

486 in londe.

487 Now þenk wel, Sir Gawan,

488 For woþe þat þou ne wonde

489 Þis auenture for to frayn

490 Þat þou hat? tan on honde.

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

II

491 This gift has Arthur            of adventures at first

492 In the young year,            for he yearned to hear challenges.

493 Though words were wanting            when they went to sit,

494 Now are they stocked with stern work,            stuffed full their hands.

495 Gawain was glad to begin            those games in hall,

496 But though the end be heavy,            have ye no wonder;

497 For though men are merry in mind            when they have much drink,

498 A year runs full swiftly,            and yields never the same;

499 The first part with the finish            fits full seldom.

500 Thus this Yule passed by,            and the year after,

501 And each season separately            ensued after other:

502 After Christmas came            the crabbed Lent,

503 That tests the flesh with fish            and food more simple;

504 But then the weather of the world            wrangles with winter;

505 Cold clings down,            clouds uplift,

506 Shining sheds the rain            in showers full warm,

507 Falls upon fair fields;            flowers there show.

508 In both ground and the groves            green are their weeds;

509 Birds bustle to build,            and beautifully sing

510 For solace of the soft summer            that ensues there-after

511                  With thanks;

512 And blossoms begin to swell

513 By hedge-rows rich and rank,

514 Then noble notes in the dell

515 Are heard in brush and banks.

Sir Gawayn and þe Grene Knyght

II

491 This hanselle hat? Arthur of auenturus on fyrst

492 In ?onge ?er, for he ?erned ?elpyng to here.

493 Tha? hym worde? were wane when þay to sete wenten,

494 Now ar þay stoken of sturne werk, stafful her hond.

495 Gawan wat? glad to begynne þose gomne? in halle,

496 Bot þa? þe ende be heuy haf ?e no wonder;

497 For þa? men ben mery in mynde quen þay han mayn drynk,

498 A ?ere ?ernes ful ?erne, and ?elde? neuer lyke;

499 Þe forme to þe fynisment folde? ful selden.

500 Forþi þis ?ol ouer?ede, and þe ?ere after,

501 And vche sesoun serlepes sued after oþer:

502 After Crystenmasse com þe crabbed lentoun,

503 Þat frayste? flesch wyth þe fysche and fode more symple;

504 Bot þenne þe weder of þe worlde wyth wynter hit þrepe?;

505 Colde clenge? adoun, cloude? vplyften,

506 Schyre schede? þe rayn in schowre? ful warme,

507 Falle? vpon fayre flat, flowre? þere schewen.

508 Boþe grounde? and þe greue? grene ar her wede?;

509 Brydde? busken to bylde, and bremlych syngen

510 For solace of þe softe somer þat sues þerafter

511 bi bonk;

512 And blossume? bolne to blowe

513 Bi rawe? rych and ronk,

514 Þen note? noble inno?e

515 Ar herde in wod so wlonk.

516 After the season of summer            with the soft winds

517 When Zephyrus[4] settles himself            on seeds and herbs,

518 Very well is the worthy plant            that waxes there-about,

519 When the drenching dew            drops from the leaves,

520 To abide a blissful blush            of the bright sun.

521 But then hurries in Harvest,            and hardens him soon,

522 Warns him for the winter            to wax full ripe;

523 He drives with drought            the dust for to rise,

524 From the face of the field            to fly full high;

525 Wrathful wind of the heavens            wrestles with the sun,

526 The leaves launch from the limbs            and alight on the ground,

527 And all grays the grass            that green was before;

528 Then all ripens and rots            that arose at first,

529 And thus yields the year            in yesterdays many,

530 And winter winds back again,            as the world asks

531 For its age,

532 Until Michaelmas moon[5]

533 Was come with winter’s wage;

534 Then thinks Gawain full soon

535 Of his anxious voyage.

516 After þe sesoun of somer wyth þe soft wynde?

517 Quen ?eferus syfle? hymself on sede? and erbe?,

518 Wela wynne is þe wort þat waxes þeroute,

519 When þe donkande dewe drope? of þe leue?,

520 To bide a blysful blusch of þe bry?t sunne.

521 Bot þen hy?es Heruest, and hardenes hym sone,

522 Warne? hym for þe wynter to wax ful rype;

523 He dryues wyth dro?t þe dust for to ryse,

524 Fro þe face of þe folde to fly?e ful hy?e;

525 Wroþe wynde of þe welkyn wrastele? with þe sunne,

526 Þe leue? lancen fro þe lynde and ly?ten on þe grounde,

527 And al grayes þe gres þat grene wat? ere;

528 Þenne al rype? and rote? þat ros vpon fyrst,

529 And þus ?erne? þe ?ere in ?isterdaye? mony,

530 And wynter wynde? a?ayn, as þe worlde aske?,

531 no fage,

532 Til Me?elmas mone

533 Wat? cumen wyth wynter wage;

534 Þen þenkke Gawan ful sone

535 Of his anious uyage.

536 Yet until All Saints’ Day[6]            with Arthur he lingers;

537 And he made a festival and a feast            for the fighter’s sake,

538 With much revel and richness            of the Round Table.

539 Knights full courteous            and comely ladies

540 All for love of that lad            in longing they were,

541 But never the less nor the latter            they spoke only of mirth.

542 Many joyless for that gentle one            jests there made.

543 At after-meal with mourning            he communes with his uncle,

544 And speaks of his passage,            and plainly he said,

545 “Now, liege lord of my life,            leave I ask you;

546 Ye know the cost of this case,            care I no more;

547 To tell you troubles there-of            is nothing but trifle;

548 But I am bound to go            for the blow on tomorrow

549 To seek the gallant of the green,            as God will me guide.”

550 Then the best of the burg            banded together:

551 Ywain and Eric,            and others full many,

552 Sir Dodinal de Savage,            the duke of Clarence,

553 Launcelot and Lionel,            and Lucan the good,

554 Sir Bors and Sir Bedivere,            big men both,

555 And many other men of worth,            with Mador de la Port.

556 All the company of court            came to the king nearer

557 For to counsel the knight,            with care at their hearts.

558 There was much secret sadness            suffered in the hall

559 That one so worthy as Wawain            should wend on that errand,

560 To endure a doleful dint,            and deal blows no more

561 But die.

562 The knight made ever good cheer,

563 And said, “Why should I fly?

564 Of destinies dreary or dear

565 What can man do but try?”

536 ?et quyl Al-Hal-Day with Arþer he lenges;

537 And he made a fare on þat fest for þe freke? sake,

538 With much reuel and ryche of þe Rounde Table.

539 Kny?te? ful cortays and comlych ladies

540 Al for luf of þat lede in longynge þay were,

541 Bot neuer þe lece ne þe later þay neuened bot merþe.

542 Mony ioyle? for þat ientyle iape? þer maden.

543 For aftter mete with mournyng he mele? to his eme,

544 And speke? of his passage, and pertly he sayde,

545 “Now, lege lorde of my lyf, leue I yow ask;

546 ?e knowe þe cost of þis cace, kepe I no more;

547 To telle yow tene? þerof neuer bot trifel;

548 Bot I am boun to þe bur barely to-morne

549 To sech þe gome of þe grene, as God wyl me wysse.”

550 Þenne þe best of þe bur? bo?ed togeder,

551 Aywan, and Errik, and oþer ful mony,

552 Sir Doddinaual de Sauage, þe duk of Clarence,

553 Launcelot, and Lyonel, and Lucan þe gode,

554 Sir Boos, and Sir Byduer, big men boþe,

555 And mony oþer menskful, with Mador de la Port.

556 Alle þis compayny of court com þe kyng nerre

557 For to counseyl þe kny?t, with care at her hert.

558 Þere wat? much derue doel driuen in þe sale

559 Þat so worthé as Wawan schulde wende on þat ernde,

560 To dry?e a delful dynt, and dele no more

561 wyth bronde.

562 Þe kny?t mad ay god chere,

563 And sayde, “Quat schuld I wonde?

564 Of destinés derf and dere

565 What may mon do bot fonde?”

566 He dwells there all that day,            and dresses on the morn,

567 Asks early his arms,            and they were all brought.

568 First a red silk tapestry            spread tight on the floor,

569 And much was the gilded gear            that gleamed there-on;

570 The stout man steps upon it,            and the steel handles,

571 Adorned in a doublet            of a dear Turkish silk,

572 And next a clever leather cape,            closed at the throat,

573 That with bright white ermine            was bound within.

574 Then set they the steel shoes            upon the stalwart’s feet,

575 His legs lapped in steel            with lovely armor,

576 With knee-plates placed there-to,            polished full bright,

577 About his knees knitted            with knots of gold;

578 Clear plate then,            that cleverly enclosed

579 His thick sinewed thighs,            with thongs attached;

580 And next the braided mail shirt            of bright steel rings

581 Enclosed that warrior            and his costly clothes,

582 And well burnished bracers            on both his arms,

583 With good elbow-guards and gay,            and gloves of steel,

584 And all the goodly gear            that should be gainful to him,

585 At that tide;

586 With rich coat of arms

587 His gold spurs affixed with pride,

588 Girt with a sword full sure,

589 With silken sash round his side.

566 He dowelle? þer al þat day, and dresse? on þe morn,

567 Aske? erly hys arme?, and alle were þay bro?t.

568 Fyrst a tulé tapit ty?t ouer þe flet,

569 And miche wat? þe gyld gere þat glent þeralofte;

570 Þe stif mon steppe? þeron, and þe stel hondele?,

571 Dubbed in a dublet of a dere tars,

572 And syþen a crafty capados, closed aloft,

573 Þat wyth a bry?t blaunner was bounden withinne.

574 Þenne set þay þe sabatoun? vpon þe segge fote?,

575 His lege? lapped in stel with luflych greue?,

576 With polayne? piched þerto, policed ful clene,

577 Aboute his kne? knaged wyth knote? of golde;

578 Queme quyssewes þen, þat coyntlych closed

579 His thik þrawen þy?e? with þwonges to tachched;

580 And syþen þe brawden bryné of bry?t stel rynge?

581 Vmbeweued þat wy? vpon wlonk stuffe,

582 And wel bornyst brace vpon his boþe armes,

583 With gode cowters and gay, and gloue? of plate,

584 And alle þe godlych gere þat hym gayn schulde

585 þat tyde;

586 Wyth ryche cote-armure,

587 His gold spore spend with pryde,

588 Gurde wyth a bront ful sure

589 With silk sayn vmbe his syde.

590 When he was clasped in armor,            his harness was rich:

591 The least lacing or loop            gleamed of gold.

592 So, harnessed as he was,            he hears his mass,

593 Offered and honored            at the high altar.

594 Then he comes to the king            and to his court-fellows,

595 Takes lovingly his leave            from lords and ladies;

596 And they him kissed and took leave,            entrusting him to Christ.

597 By then was Gringolet ready,            and girt with a saddle

598 That gleamed full gaily            with many gold fringes,

599 Everywhere riveted full new,            ready for that work;

600 The bridle with bars about,            with bright gold bound;

601 The apparel of the trappings            and of its proud skirts,

602 The crupper and the covering            accord with the saddle-bows;

603 And all was arrayed            on rich red gold studs,

604 That all glittered and glowed            as gleam of the sun.

605 Then takes he the helmet,            and hastily it kisses,

606 That was stapled securely,            and stuffed with padding.

607 It was high on his head,            held by a hasp behind,

608 With a light silk band            over the neck piece,

609 Embroidered and bedecked            with the best gems

610 On broad silken borders,            and birds on the seams,

611 Such as parrots painted            preening there-about,

612 Turtle-doves and true-love knots            portrayed so thick

613 As if many maids there-upon            had worked seven winters

614 In town.

615 The circlet was worth more,

616 That enclasped his crown,

617 For diamonds by the score

618 Shone brightly all around.

590 When he wat? hasped in armes, his harnays wat? ryche:

591 Þe lest lachet ouer loupe lemed of golde.

592 So harnayst as he wat? he herkne? his masse,

593 Offred and honoured at þe he?e auter.

594 Syþen he come? to þe kyng and to his cort-fere?,

595 Lache? lufly his leue at lorde? and ladye?;

596 And þay hym kyst and conueyed, bikende hym to Kryst.

597 Bi þat wat? Gryngolet grayth, and gurde with a sadel

598 Þat glemed ful gayly with mony golde frenges,

599 Ayquere naylet ful nwe, for þat note ryched;

600 Þe brydel barred aboute, with bry?t golde bounden;

601 Þe apparayl of þe payttrure and of þe proude skyrte?,

602 Þe cropore and þe couertor, acorded wyth þe arsoune?;

603 And al wat? rayled on red ryche golde nayle?,

604 Þat al glytered and glent as glem of þe sunne.

605 Þenne hentes he þe helme, and hastily hit kysses,

606 Þat wat? stapled stifly, and stoffed wythinne.

607 Hit wat? hy?e on his hede, hasped bihynde,

608 Wyth a ly?tly vrysoun ouer þe auentayle,

609 Enbrawden and bounden wyth þe best gemme?

610 On brode sylkyn borde, and brydde? on seme?,

611 As papiaye? paynted peruyng bitwene,

612 Tortors and trulofe? entayled so þyk

613 As mony burde þeraboute had ben seuen wynter

614 in toune.

615 Þe cercle wat? more o prys

616 Þat vmbeclypped hys croun,

617 Of diamaunte? a deuys

618 Þat boþe were bry?t and broun.

619 Then they showed him the shield,            that was of shining red

620 With the pentangle depicted            in pure gold hues.

621 He seizes it by the baldric,            about the neck casts;

622 That well suits the stalwart            so seemly fair.

623 And why the pentangle pertains            to that noble prince

624 I intend you to tell,            though tarry me it should:

625 It is a sign that Solomon            set some time ago

626 In betokening of troth,            that it truly has,

627 For it is a figure            that holds five points,

628 And each line embraces            and locks in the other,

629 And everywhere it is endless;            and the English call it

630 All over, as I hear,            the endless knot.

631 Therefore it accords to this knight            and to his bright arms,

632 For ever faithful in five ways            and five times in each way:

633 Gawain was for good known,            and as gold purified,

634 Devoid of each villainy,            with virtues endowed

635 And devoted;

636 Therefore the pentangle new

637 He bore on shield and coat,

638 As man of tale most true

639 And gentlest knight of note.

619 Then þay schewed hym þe schelde, þat was of schyr goule?

620 Wyth þe pentangel depaynt of pure golde hwe?.

621 He brayde? hit by þe bauderyk, aboute þe hals kestes;

622 Þat bisemed þe segge semlyly fayre.

623 And quy þe pentangel apende? to þat prynce noble

624 I am in tent yow to telle, þof tary hyt me schulde:

625 Hit is a syngne þat Salamon set sumquyle

626 In bytoknyng of trawþe, bi tytle þat hit habbe?,

627 For hit is a figure þat halde? fyue poynte?,

628 And vche lyne vmbelappe? and louke? in oþer,

629 And ayquere hit is endele?; and Englych hit callen

630 Oueral, as I here, þe endeles knot.

631 Forþy hit acorde? to þis kny?t and to his cler arme?,

632 For ay faythful in fyue and sere fyue syþe?:

633 Gawan wat? for gode knawen, and as golde pured,

634 Voyded of vche vylany, wyth vertue? ennourned

635 in mote;

636 Forþy þe pentangel nwe

637 He ber in schelde and cote,

638 As tulk of tale most trwe

639 And gentylest kny?t of lote.

640 First he was found faultless            in his five wits,

641 And also failed never the fighter            in his five fingers,

642 And all his faith in the field            was in the five wounds

643 That Christ caught on the cross,            as the Creed tells;

644 And where-so-ever this man            in melee took a stand,

645 His steadfast thought was in that,            over all other things,

646 That all his courage he took            from the Five Joys

647 That the courteous heaven-queen            had of her child;

648 For this cause            the comely knight had

649 On the inside of his shield            her image depicted,

650 That when he looked there-to            he never lacked boldness.

651 The fifth five that I find            that the fighter used

652 Was generosity and fellowship            before all things,

653 His purity and his courtesy            crooked were never,

654 And pity, that passes all points;            these pure five

655 Were more heartily heaped            on that horseman than any other.

656 Now all these five fives, forsooth,            were fixed on this knight,

657 And each one woven into other,            so that no end it had,

658 And fixed upon five points,            that failed never,

659 Not assembled ever on one side,            nor separated neither,

660 Without end at any angle            anywhere, I find,

661 Wherever the game began,            or had gone to an end.

662 Therefore on his shining shield            shaped was the knot

663 Royally with bright gold            upon a red background,

664 That is the pure pentangle            by the people called

665 With lore.

666 Now gracefully Gawain gay

667 Latched on to his lance for war,

668 And gave them all good day—

669 He thought for evermore.

640 Fyrst he wat? funden fautle? in his fyue wytte?,

641 And efte fayled neuer þe freke in his fyue fyngres,

642 And alle his afyaunce vpon folde wat? in þe fyue wounde?

643 Þat Cryst ka?t on þe croys, as þe Crede telle?;

644 And quere-so-euer þys mon in melly wat? stad,

645 His þro þo?t wat? in þat, þur? alle oþer þynge?,

646 Þat alle his forsnes he feng at þe Fyue Joye?

647 Þat þe hende heuen-quene had of hir chylde;

648 At þis cause þe kny?t comlyche hade

649 In þe inore half of his schelde hir ymage depaynted,

650 Þat quen he blusched þerto his belde neuer payred.

651 Þe fyft fyue þat I finde þat þe frek vsed

652 Wat? fraunchyse and fela?schyp forbe al þyng,

653 His clannes and his cortaysye croked were neuer,

654 And pité, þat passe? alle poynte?, þyse pure fyue

655 Were harder happed on þat haþel þen on any oþer.

656 Now alle þese fyue syþe?, for soþe, were fetled on þis kny?t,

657 And vchone halched in oþer, þat non ende hade,

658 And fyched vpon fyue poynte?, þat fayld neuer,

659 Ne samned neuer in no syde, ne sundred nouþer,

660 Withouten ende at any noke I oquere fynde,

661 Whereeuer þe gomen bygan, or glod to an ende.

662 Þerfore on his schene schelde schapen wat? þe knot

663 Ryally wyth red golde vpon rede gowle?,

664 Þat is þe pure pentaungel wyth þe peple called

665 with lore.

666 Now grayþed is Gawan gay,

667 And la?t his launce ry?t þore,

668 And gef hem alle goud day —

669 He wende for euermore.

670 He spurred the steed with the spurs            and sprang on his way,

671 So strong that the stone-fire            struck out there-after.

672 All that saw that seemly            sighed in heart,

673 And soothly all the same            said stalwarts to each other,

674 Caring for that comely:            “By Christ, it is a calamity

675 That thou, liegeman, shall be lost,            that art of life noble!

676 To find his fellow upon field,            in faith, is not easy.

677 More warily to have worked            had been more wise,

678 And to have designated yonder dear            a duke to have become;

679 An illustrious leader of lads            in land could well be,

680 And had better have been that            than battered to nothing,

681 Beheaded by a monstrous man,            for arrogant pride.

682 Who knew ever any king            such counsel to take

683 As from knights quibbling            about Christmas games?”

684 Well much was the warm water            that weltered from eyes,

685 When that seemly sire            set out from those dwellings

686 That day.

687 He turned to the road,

688 And stoutly went his way;

689 Many bewildering routes he rode,

690 The book as I heard say.

670 He sperred þe sted with þe spure? and sprong on his way,

671 So stif þat þe ston-fyr stroke out þerafter.

672 Al þat se? þat semly syked in hert,

673 And sayde soþly al same segges til oþer,

674 Carande for þat comly: “Bi Kryst, hit is scaþe

675 Þat þou, leude, schal be lost, þat art of lyf noble!

676 To fynde hys fere vpon folde, in fayth, is not eþe.

677 Warloker to haf wro?t had more wyt bene,

678 And haf dy?t ?onder dere a duk to haue worþed;

679 A lowande leder of lede? in londe hym wel seme?,

680 And so had better haf ben þen britned to no?t,

681 Hadet wyth an aluisch mon, for angarde? pryde.

682 Who knew euer any kyng such counsel to take

683 As kny?tes in cauelacioun? on Crystmasse gomne??”

684 Wel much wat? þe warme water þat waltered of y?en,

685 When þat semly syre so?t fro þo wone?

686 þad daye.

687 He made non abode,

688 Bot wy?tly went hys way;

689 Mony wylsum way he rode,

690 Þe bok as I herde say.

691 Now rides this rider            through the realm of Logres[7],

692 Sir Gawain, by God’s wounds,            though to him no game it seemed.

693 Oft friendless alone            he lingers by night

694 Where he found not before him            the fare that he liked.

695 Had he no friend but his foal            by forests and downs,

696 Nor no gallant but God            to speak with by the way,

697 Till that he nighed full nigh            into the North Wales.

698 All the isles of Anglesey            on left side he holds,

699 And fares over the fords            by the forelands,

700 Over by the Holyhead,            until he again had the shore

701 In the wilderness of Wirral;            dwelt there but few

702 That neither God nor man            with good heart loved.

703 And ever he asked, as he fared,            from folk that he met,

704 If they had heard any talk            of a green knight,

705 On any ground there-about,            or of a Green Chapel;

706 And all denied it with “nay,”            that never in their lives

707 They ever saw any stalwart            that was of such hues

708 Of green.

709 The knight took ways strange

710 In many a bank between;

711 His mood full oft did change

712 Ere that chapel might be seen.

691 Now ride? þis renk þur? þe ryalme of Logres,

692 Sir Gauan, on Gode? halue, þa? hym no gomen þo?t.

693 Oft leudle? alone he lenge? on ny?te?

694 Þer he fonde no?t hym byfore þe fare þat he lyked.

695 Hade he no fere bot his fole bi frythe? and doune?,

696 Ne no gome bot God bi gate wyth to karp,

697 Til þat he ne?ed ful ne?e into þe Norþe Wale?.

698 Alle þe iles of Anglesay on lyft half he halde?,

699 And fare? ouer þe forde? by þe forlonde?,

700 Ouer at þe Holy Hede, til he hade eft bonk

701 In þe wyldrenesse of Wyrale; wonde þer bot lyte

702 Þat auþer God oþer gome wyth goud hert louied.

703 And ay he frayned, as he ferde, at freke? þat he met,

704 If þay hade herde any karp of a kny?t grene,

705 In any grounde þeraboute, of þe Grene Chapel;

706 And al nykked hym wyth “nay,” þat neuer in her lyue

707 Þay se?e neuer no segge þat wat? of suche hwe?

708 of grene.

709 Þe kny?t tok gates straunge

710 In mony a bonk vnbene;

711 His cher ful oft con chaunge

712 Þat chapel er he my?t sene.

713 Many a cliff he overclimbed            in countries strange,

714 Far flown from his friends            as a foreigner he rides.

715 At each shore or water            where the warrior passed

716 He found a foe before him            —else a wonder it was—

717 And that so foul and so fierce            that to fight him behooved.

718 So many marvels by mountains            there the man finds,

719 It were too toilsome for to tell            of the tenth part.

720 Sometimes with dragons he wars,            and with wolves also,

721 Sometimes with wild men,            that dwelt in the woods,

722 Both with bulls and bears,            and boars at other times,

723 And ogres, that him annoyed            from the high rocks;

724 Had he not been doughty and enduring,            and the dear Lord served,

725 Doubtless he had been dead            and done for full oft.

726 For war worried him not so much;            that winter was worse,

727 When the cold clear water            from the clouds shed,

728 And froze ere it fall might            to the faded earth;

729 Nearly slain with the sleet            he slept in his iron armor

730 More nights than enough            in naked rocks,

731 Where clattering from the crest            the cold brook runs,

732 And hanged high over his head            in hard icicles.

733 Thus in peril and pain            and plights full hard

734 Through the country comes this knight,            til Christmas eve,

735 Alone;

736 The knight well that tide

737 To Mary made his moan,

738 That she reveal where to ride

739 That some dwelling him be shown.

713 Mony klyf he ouerclambe in contraye? straunge,

714 Fer floten fro his frende? fremedly he ryde?.

715 At vche warþe oþer water þer þe w?ye passed

716 He fonde a foo hym byfore — bot ferly hit were —

717 And þat so foule and so felle þat fe?t hym byhode.

718 So mony meruayl bi mount þer þe mon fynde?,

719 Hit were to tore for to telle of þe tenþe dole.

720 Sumwhyle wyth worme? he werre?, and with wolues als,

721 Sumwhyle wyth wodwos, þat woned in þe knarre?,

722 Boþe wyth bulle? and bere?, and bore? oþerquyle,

723 And etayne?, þat hym anelede of þe he?e felle;

724 Nade he ben du?ty and dry?e, and Dry?tyn had serued,

725 Douteles he hade ben ded and dreped ful ofte.

726 For werre wrathed hym not so much þat wynter nas wors,

727 When þe colde cler water fro þe cloude? schadde,

728 And fres er hit falle my?t to þe fale erþe;

729 Ner slayn wyth þe slete he sleped in his yrnes

730 Mo ny?te? þen inno?e in naked rokke?,

731 Þer as claterande fro þe crest þe colde borne renne?,

732 And henged hege ouer his hede in hard iisse-ikkles.

733 Þus in peryl and payne and plytes ful harde

734 Bi contray cayre? þis kny?t, tyl Krystmasse euen,

735 al one;

736 Þe kny?t wel þat tyde

737 To Mary made his mone,

738 Þat ho hym red to ryde

739 And wysse hym to sum wone.

740 By a mount on the morn            merrily he rides

741 Into a forest full deep,            that was fabulously wild,

742 Tall hills on each side,            and high woods as well

743 Of hoar oaks full huge,            a hundred in all;

744 The hazel and the hawthorn            were tangled all together,

745 With rough ragged moss            arrayed everywhere,

746 With many birds unblithe            upon bare twigs,

747 That piteously there piped            for pain of the cold.

748 The gallant upon Gringolet            galloped them under,

749 Through many a morass and mire,            a man all alone,

750 Caring for his duties,            lest he should not come

751 To see the service of that Sire            that on that same night

752 Of a maiden was born            our troubles to abate;

753 And there-for sighing he said,            “I beseech thee, Lord,

754 And Mary, that is mildest            mother so dear,

755 For some harborage where holily            I might hear mass,

756 And thy matins in the morning,            meekly I ask,

757 And there-to promptly I pray            my ‘Our Father’ and ‘Hail Mary’

758 And ‘Creed.’”

759 He rode in his prayer,

760 And cried for his misdeed;

761 He signed himself repeatedly there,

762 And said “Cross of Christ me lead!”

740 Bi a mounte on þe morne meryly he rydes

741 Into a forest ful dep, þat ferly wat? wylde,

742 Hi?e hille? on vche a halue, and holtwode? vnder

743 Of hore oke? ful hoge a hundreth togeder;

744 Þe hasel and þe ha?þorne were harled al samen,

745 With ro?e raged mosse rayled aywhere,

746 With mony brydde? vnblyþe vpon bare twyges,

747 Þat pitosly þer piped for pyne of þe colde.

748 Þe gome vpon Gryngolet glyde? hem vnder,

749 Þur? mony misy and myre, mon al hym one,

750 Carande for his costes, lest he ne keuer schulde

751 To se þe seruyse of þat Syre, þat on þat self ny?t

752 Of a burde wat? borne oure baret to quelle;

753 And þerfore sykyng he sayde, “I beseche þe, Lorde,

754 And Mary, þat is myldest moder so dere,

755 Of sum herber þer he?ly I my?t here masse,

756 Ande þy matyne? tomorne, mekely I ask,

757 And þerto prestly I pray my Pater and Aue

758 and Crede.”

759 He rode in his prayere,

760 And cryed for his mysdede;

761 He sayned hym in syþes sere,

762 And sayde “Cros Kryst me spede!”

763 He had not signed himself,            that stalwart, but thrice,

764 Ere he was aware in the wood            of a dwelling within a moat,

765 Above an open lawn, on a low hill,            locked under boughs

766 By many burly branches            about by the ditches:

767 A castle the comeliest            that ever knight commanded,

768 Placed on an open meadow,            a park all around,

769 With a spiked palisade            penned in full thick,

770 That enclosed many trees            more than two miles.

771 That hold on that one side            the horseman observed,

772 As it shimmered and shone            through sheltering oaks;

773 Then has he courteously doffed his helmet,            and holily he thanks

774 Jesus and Saint Julian,            that gentle are both,

775 Who courteously recognized him,            and his cry hearkened.

776 “Now for good lodging,” quoth the brave,            “I beseech you yet!”

777 Then he gives spur to Gringolet            with the gilded heels,

778 And he fully by chance has chosen            the chief path,

779 That quickly brought the brave            to the bridge’s end

780 In haste.

781 The bridge was firmly raised,

782 The gates were shut up fast.

783 The walls were mightily made;

784 They feared no windy blast.

763 Nade he sayned hymself, segge, bot þrye,

764 Er he wat? war in þe wod of a won in a mote,

765 Abof a launde, on a lawe, loken vnder bo?e?

766 Of mony borelych bole aboute bi þe diches:

767 A castel þe comlokest þat euer kny?t a?te,

768 Pyched on a prayere, a park al aboute,

769 With a pyked palays pyned ful þik,

770 Þat vmbete?e mony tre mo þen two myle.

771 Þat holde on þat on syde þe haþel auysed,

772 As hit schemered and schon þur? þe schyre oke?;

773 Þenne hat? he hendly of his helme, and he?ly he þonke?

774 Jesus and Sayn Gilyan, þat gentyle ar boþe,

775 Þat cortaysly had hym kydde, and his cry herkened.

776 “Now bone hostel,” coþe þe burne, “I beseche yow ?ette!”

777 Þenne gerde? he to Gryngolet with þe gilt hele?,

778 And he ful chauncely hat? chosen to þe chef gate,

779 Þat bro?t bremly þe burne to þe bryge ende

780 in haste.

781 Þe bryge wat? breme vpbrayde,

782 Þe ?ate? wer stoken faste.

783 Þe walle? were wel arayed,

784 Hit dut no wynde? blaste.

785 The brave abided on his bronc,            that hovered on the bank

786 Of the deep double ditch            that defended the place;

787 The wall went into the water            wonderfully deep,

788 And then a full huge height            it had upon loft

789 Of hard hewed stone            high up to the cornices

790 With ledges under the battlements            in the best style;

791 And then towers full gay            placed goodly between

792 With many lovely windows            that locked completely;

793 A better defense that brave            looked upon never.

794 And further in he beheld            that hall full high,

795 Towers between them,            pinnacles full thick,

796 Fair spires that befitted them,            and fabulously high,

797 With curiously carved tops,            craftily made.

798 Chalk-white chimneys,            many choice ones

799 On the burg’s roofs,            that shone bright white.

800 So many painted pinnacles            were put about everywhere,

801 About the castle embrasures            clustered so thick,

802 That pared out of paper            surely it seemed.

803 The fighter on his foal            thought it fair indeed,

804 If he could have leave to come            the cloister within,

805 To have harbor in that hostel            while the holy days last,

806 As at present.

807 He called, and soon there came

808 A porter purely pleasant,

809 On the wall his duty to proclaim

810 And hail the knight errant.

785 Þe burne bode on blonk, þat on bonk houed

786 Of þe depe double dich þat drof to þe place;

787 Þe walle wod in þe water wonderly depe,

788 Ande eft a ful huge he?t hit haled vpon lofte

789 Of harde hewen ston vp to þe table?,

790 Enbaned vnder þe abataylment in þe best lawe;

791 And syþen garyte? ful gaye gered bitwene,

792 Wyth mony luflych loupe þat louked ful clene;

793 A better barbican þat burne blusched vpon neuer.

794 And innermore he behelde þat halle ful hy?e,

795 Towres telded bytwene, trochet ful þik,

796 Fayre fylyole? þat fy?ed, and ferlyly long,

797 With coruon coprounes craftyly sle?e.

798 Chalkwhyt chymnees þer ches he inno?e

799 Vpon bastel roue?, þat blenked ful quyte.

800 So mony pynakle payntet wat? poudred ayquere,

801 Among þe castel carnele? clambred so þik,

802 Þat pared out of papure purely hit semed.

803 Þe fre freke on þe fole hit fayr inno?e þo?t,

804 If he my?t keuer to com þe cloyster wythinne,

805 To herber in þat hostel whyl halyday lested,

806 auinant.

807 He calde, and sone þer com

808 A porter pure plesaunt,

809 On þe wal his ernd he nome

810 And haylsed þe kny?t erraunt.

811 “Good sir,” quoth Gawain,            “wouldst thou go my errand

812 To the high lord of this house,            lodging to crave?”

813 “Yea, Peter,” quoth the porter,            “and surely I suppose

814 That ye be, warrior, welcome            to dwell while you like.”

815 Then went the warrior eagerly            and came again quickly,

816 And folk courteously with him,            to accompany the knight.

817 They let down the great draw-bridge            and decorously went out,

818 And kneeled down on their knees            upon the cold earth

819 To welcome this same warrior            as worthy they thought;

820 They yield to him the broad gate,            gaping up wide,

821 And he bad them rise readily,            and rode over the bridge.

822 Several stalwarts held his saddle,            while he stepped down,

823 And then stabled his steed            stout men many.

824 Knights and squires            came down then

825 For to bring this brave            with bliss into hall;

826 When he heaved up his helmet,            there hastened many

827 For to have it from his hand,            the courtier to honor;

828 His broad sword and his blazoned shield            both they took.

829 Then hailed he full courteously            those horsemen each one,

830 And many proud men there pressed in,            that prince to honor.

831 All harnessed in his high armor            to hall they bring him

832 Where fair fire upon floor            fiercely burned.

833 Then the lord of the lads            leaves his chamber

834 For to meet with good manners            the man on the floor;

835 He said, “Ye are welcome,            to wield what you like

836 All that is here is your own,            to have at your will

837 And hold.”

838 “Great thanks,” quoth Gawain,

839 “May Christ you uphold.”

840 As fighters that do not feign

841 Each other in arms did enfold.

811 “Gode sir,” quoþ Gawan, “wolde? þou go myn ernde

812 To þe he? lorde of þis hous, herber to craue?”

813 “?e, Peter,” quoþ þe porter, “and purely I trowee

814 Þat ?e be, wy?e, welcum to won quyle yow lyke?.”

815 Þen ?ede þe wy?e ?erne and com a?ayn swyþe,

816 And folke frely hym wyth, to fonge þe kny?t.

817 Þay let doun þe grete dra?t and derely out ?eden,

818 And kneled doun on her knes vpon þe colde erþe

819 To welcum þis ilk wy? as worþy hom þo?t;

820 Þay ?olden hym þe brode ?ate, ?arked vp wyde,

821 And he hem raysed rekenly, and rod ouer þe brygge.

822 Sere segge? hym sesed by sadel, quel he ly?t,

823 And syþen stabeled his stede stif men inno?e.

824 Kny?te? and swyere? comen doun þenne

825 For to bryng þis buurne wyth blys into halle;

826 Quen he hef vp his helme, þer hi?ed innoghe

827 For to hent hit at his honde, þe hende to seruen;

828 His bronde and his blasoun boþe þay token.

829 Þen haylsed he ful hendly þo haþele? vchone,

830 And mony proud mon þer presed þat prynce to honour.

831 Alle hasped in his he? wede to halle þay hym wonnen,

832 Þer fayre fyre vpon flet fersly brenned.

833 Þenne þe lorde of þe lede loute? fro his chambre

834 For to mete wyth menske þe mon on þe flor;

835 He sayde, “?e ar welcum to welde as yow lyke?

836 Þat here is; al is yowre awen, to haue at yowre wylle

837 and welde.”

838 “Graunt mercy,” quoþ Gawayn,

839 “Þer Kryst hit yow for?elde.”

840 As freke? þat semed fayn

841 Ayþer oþer in arme? con felde.

842 Gawain gazed on the gallant            that goodly him greeted,

843 And thought it a bold brave            that the burg owned,

844 A huge horseman for battling,            and in his best years;

845 Broad, bright, was his beard,            and all beaver-colored,

846 Stern, strong in his stance            on stalwart shanks,

847 Face fierce as the fire,            and fair in his speech;

848 And well him suited, for sooth,            as the stalwart thought,

849 To lead a lordship in a castle            of liegemen full good.

850 The lord conducts him to a chamber,            and quickly commands

851 To assign him a lad,            loyally to serve;

852 And there were ready at his bidding            many brave knights,

853 That brought him to a bright bower,            where bedding was noble,

854 Of curtains of glowing silk            with gleaming gold hems,

855 And covers full curious            with comely panels

856 Of bright white fur above,            embroidered round about,

857 Curtains running on ropes,            with red gold rings,

858 Stretched on the wall tapestries            of Toulouse and Turkestan,

859 And under foot, on the floor,            of a matching form.

860 There he was disarmed,            with speeches of mirth,

861 The brave of his mail            and of his bright armor.

862 Rich robes full readily            servants him brought,

863 For to choose one, and to change,            and rejoice in the best.

864 As soon as he has picked one,            and is apparelled within

865 One that sat on him seemly            with spreading skirts,

866 The verdant Spring by his visage            verily it seemed

867 Well nigh to each horsemen,            for all its hues

868 Glowing and lovely,            and all his limbs covered,

869 That a comelier knight            never Christ made,

870 They thought.

871 Wherever in world he were,

872 It seemed as if he ought

873 Be prince without peer

874 In field where fierce men fought.

842 Gawayn gly?t on þe gome þat godly hym gret,

843 And þu?t hit a bolde burne þat þe bur? a?te,

844 A hoge haþel for þe none?, and of hyghe eldee;

845 Brode, bry?t, wat? his berde, and al beuer-hwed,

846 Sturne, stif on þe stryþþe on stalworth schonke?,

847 Felle face as þe fyre, and fre of hys speche;

848 And wel hym semed, for soþe, as þe segge þu?t,

849 To lede a lortschyp in lee of leude? ful gode.

850 Þe lorde hym charred to a chambre, and chefly cumaunde?

851 To delyuer hym a leude, hym lo?ly to serue;

852 And þere were boun at his bode burne? inno?e,

853 Þat bro?t hym to a bry?t boure, þer beddyng wat? noble,

854 Of cortynes of clene sylk wyth cler golde hemme?,

855 And couertore? ful curious with comlych pane?

856 Of bry?t blaunner aboue, enbrawded bisyde?,

857 Rudele? rennande on rope?, red golde rynge?,

858 Tapite? ty?t to þe wo?e of Tuly and Tars,

859 And vnder fete, on þe flet, of fol?ande sute.

860 Þer he wat? dispoyled, wyth speche? of myerþe,

861 Þe burn of his bruny and of his bry?t wede?.

862 Ryche robes ful rad renkke? hym bro?ten,

863 For to charge, and to chaunge, and chose of þe best.

864 Sone as he on hent, and happed þerinne,

865 Þat sete on hym semly wyth saylande skyrte?,

866 Þe ver by his uisage verayly hit semed

867 Welne? to vche haþel, alle on hwes

868 Lowande and lufly alle his lymme? vnder,

869 Þat a comloker kny?t neuer Kryst made

870 hem þo?t.

871 Wheþen in worlde he were,

872 Hit semed as he mo?t

873 Be prynce withouten pere

874 In felde þer felle men fo?t.

875 A chair before the chimney,            where charcoal burned,

876 Was arrayed for Sir Gawain            gracefully with cloths,

877 Cushions upon quilts            that were all cleverly made;

878 And then a merry mantle            was on that man cast

879 Of a bright silk fabric,            embroidered full rich

880 And fair furred within            with the finest of pelts,

881 All with ermine adorned,            his hood of the same;

882 And he sat in that seat,            sumptuously rich,

883 And warmed himself quickly,            and then his mood changed.

884 Soon was set up a table            on trestles full fair,

885 Clad with a gleaming cloth            that clear white shone,

886 Place-mats, and saltcellars,            and silver spoons.

887 The warrior washed, as he wished,            and went to his meal.

888 Stalwarts him served            seemly indeed

889 With many excellent stews,            seasoned of the best,

890 Double portions, as was fitting,            and fish of many kinds,

891 Some baked in bread,            some broiled on the coals,

892 Some seethed, some in stews            savored with spices,

893 And always subtle sauces            that the stalwart liked.

894 The fighter called it a feast            full freely and oft

895 Full courteously, when all the horsemen            a reply at once

896 Extended:

897 “This penance now ye take,

898 And soon it shall be amended.”

899 That man much mirth did make,

900 For wine in his head that wended.

875 A cheyer byfore þe chemné, þer charcole brenned,

876 Wat? grayþed for Sir Gawan grayþely with cloþe?,

877 Whyssynes vpon queldepoyntes þat koynt wer boþe;

878 And þenne a meré mantyle wat? on þat mon cast

879 Of a broun bleeaunt, enbrauded ful ryche

880 And fayre furred wythinne with felle? of þe best,

881 Alle of ermyn in erde, his hode of þe same;

882 And he sete in þat settel semlych ryche,

883 And achaufed hym chefly, and þenne his cher mended.

884 Sone wat? telded vp a tabil on treste? ful fayre,

885 Clad wyth a clene cloþe þat cler quyt schewed,

886 Sanap, and salure, and syluerin spone?.

887 Þe wy?e wesche at his wylle, and went to his mete.

888 Segge? hym serued semly inno?e

889 Wyth sere sewes and sete, sesounde of þe best.

890 Double-felde, as hit falle?, and fele kyn fische?,

891 Summe baken in bred, summe brad on þe glede?,

892 Summe soþen, summe in sewe sauered with spyces,

893 And ay sawes so sleye þat þe segge lyked.

894 Þe freke calde hit a fest ful frely and ofte

895 Ful hendely, quen alle þe haþeles rehayted hym at one?,

896 as hende,

897 “Þis penaunce now ?e take,

898 And eft hit schal amende.”

899 Þat mon much merþe con make,

900 For wyn in his hed þat wende.

901 Then was spied out and asked            in subtle ways

902 By privy questions of that prince,            put to himself,

903 That he admitted courteously            that he was of the court

904 That Arthur the elegant            holds as his own,

905 He who is the rich royal king            of the Round Table,

906 And it was Gawain himself            that in that hall sits,

907 Come to that Christmas,            as the case then befell.

908 When the lord had learned            that he this liegeman had,

909 Loud laughed he there-at,            so lovely it seemed to him,

910 And all the men inside that moat            made much joy

911 To appear in his presence            promptly that time,

912 Since all price and prowess            and pure manners

913 Append to his person,            and praised are ever;

914 Before all men upon earth            his honor is the most.

915 Each stalwart full softly            said to his fellow:

916 “Now shall we surely see            the skills of good manners

917 And the faultless terms            of talking noble.

918 What success is in speech            without asking we can learn,

919 Since we have found here            that fine father of nurture.

920 God has given us his grace            goodly for sooth,

921 Who such a guest as Gawain            grants us to have,

922 When blithe braves            of his birth shall sit

923 And sing.

924 To understand good manners here

925 This brave now shall us bring;

926 I hold that he who may him hear

927 Shall learn of love-talking.”

901 Þenne wat? spyed and spured vpon spare wyse

902 Bi preué poynte? of þat prynce, put to hymseluen,

903 Þat he beknew cortaysly of þe court þat he were

904 Þat aþel Arthure þe hende halde? hym one,

905 Þat is þe ryche ryal kyng of þe Rounde Table,

906 And hit wat? Wawen hymself þat in þat won sytte?,

907 Comen to þat Krystmasse, as case hym þen lymped.

908 When þe lorde hade lerned þat he þe leude hade,

909 Loude la?ed he þerat, so lef hit hym þo?t,

910 And alle þe men in þat mote maden much joye

911 To apere in his presense prestly þat tyme,

912 Þat alle prys and prowes and pured þewes

913 Apendes to hys persoun, and praysed is euer;

914 Byfore alle men vpon molde his mensk is þe most.

915 Vch segge ful softly sayde to his fere:

916 “Now schal we semlych se sle?te? of þewe?

917 And þe teccheles termes of talkyng noble,

918 Wich spede is in speche vnspurd may we lerne,

919 Syn we haf fonged þat fyne fader of nurture.

920 God hat? geuen vus his grace godly for soþe,

921 Þat such a gest as Gawan graunte? vus to haue,

922 When burne? blyþe of his burþe schal sitte

923 and synge.

924 In menyng of manere? mere

925 Þis burne now schal vus bryng;

926 I hope þat may hym here

927 Schal lerne of luf-talkyng.”

928 When dinner was done            and the dear Gawain up

929 It was nigh to that time            that night neared.

930 Chaplains to the chapels            chose the direct way,

931 Rang full richly,            right as they should,

932 To the holy Evensong            of the high season.

933 The lord leads there-to,            and the lady also;

934 Into a comely enclosed pew            gracefully she enters.

935 Gawain goes full gay            and gets thither soon;

936 The lord snatches him by the sleeve            and leads him to sit,

937 And cordially with him converses            and calls him by his name,

938 And said he was the welcomest            warrior in the world;

939 And he him thanked thoroughly,            and either hugged the other,

940 And sat soberly together            during the service.

941 Then desired the lady            to look on the knight,

942 Then came she from her enclosed pew            with many glowing maidens.

943 She was the fairest in complexion,            of flesh and of skin,

944 And of stature and color and customs,            compared to all others,

945 And more lovely than Guenevere,            as the warrior thought.

946 He chose his way through the sanctuary            to salute that lady.

947 Another lady her led            by the left hand,

948 That was older than she,            an ancient it seemed,

949 And highly honored            by horsemen about.

950 But unlike to look on            those ladies were,

951 For if the young was fresh,            yellowed was that other;

952 Rich red on that one            arrayed everywhere,

953 Rough wrinkled cheeks            rolled on that other;

954 Kerchiefs on that one,            with many clear pearls,

955 Her breast and her bright throat            bare displayed,

956 Shone more shining than snow            that sheds on hills;

957 That other with a collar            had covered all her neck,

958 Enclosed her black chin            with chalk-white veils,

959 Her forehead covered and adorned,            enfolded everywhere,

960 Bedecked and tricked out            bejeweled all round,

961 That nothing was bare of that woman            but the black brows,

962 The two eyes and the nose,            the naked lips,

963 And those were sour to see            and exceedingly bleared;

964 An honorable lady on earth            men may her call,

965 For God!

966 Her body was short and thick,

967 Her buttocks big and broad;

968 A more luscious one to pick

969 Was she with whom she trod.

928 Bi þat þe diner wat? done and þe dere vp

929 Hit wat? ne? at þe ny?t ne?ed þe tyme.

930 Chaplayne? to þe chapeles chosen þe gate,

931 Rungen ful rychely, ry?t as þay schulden,

932 To þe hersum euensong of þe hy?e tyde.

933 Þe lorde loutes þerto, and þe lady als;

934 Into a cumly closet coyntly ho entre?.

935 Gawan glyde? ful gay and gos þeder sone;

936 Þe lorde laches hym by þe lappe and lede? hym to sytte,

937 And couþly hym knowe? and calle? hym his nome,

938 And sayde he wat? þe welcomest wy?e of þe worlde;

939 And he hym þonkked þroly, and ayþer halched oþer,

940 And seten soberly samen þe seruise quyle.

941 Þenne lyst þe lady to loke on þe kny?t,

942 Þenne com ho of hir closet with mony cler burde?.

943 Ho wat? þe fayrest in felle, of flesche and of lyre,

944 And of compas and colour and costes, of alle oþer,

945 And wener þen Wenore, as þe wy?e þo?t.

946 He ches þur? þe chaunsel to cheryche þat hende.

947 An oþer lady hir lad bi þe lyft honde,

948 Þat wat? alder þen ho, an auncian hit semed,

949 And he?ly honowred with haþele? aboute.

950 Bot vnlyke on to loke þo ladyes were,

951 For if þe ?onge wat? ?ep, ?ol?e wat? þat oþer;

952 Riche red on þat on rayled ayquere,

953 Ru? ronkled cheke? þat oþer on rolled;

954 Kerchofes of þat on, wyth mony cler perle?,

955 Hir brest and hir bry?t þrote bare displayed,

956 Schon schyrer þen snawe þat schede? on hille?;

957 Þat oþer wyth a gorger wat? gered ouer þe swyre,

958 Chymbled ouer hir blake chyn with chalkquyte vayles,

959 Hir frount folden in sylk, enfoubled ayquere,

960 Toreted and treleted with tryfle? aboute,

961 Þat no?t wat? bare of þat burde bot þe blake bro?es,

962 Þe tweyne y?en and þe nase, þe naked lyppe?,

963 And þose were soure to se and sellyly blered;

964 A mensk lady on molde mon may hir calle,

965 for Gode!

966 Hir body wat? schort and þik,

967 Hir buttoke? bal? and brode;

968 More lykkerwys on to lyk

969 Wat? þat scho hade on lode.

970 When Gawain glanced on that gay,            that graciously looked,

971 With leave allowed by the lord            the ladies he greets.

972 The elder he hails,            bowing full low;

973 The more lovely he laps            a little in arms,

974 He kisses her comely,            and knightly he speaks.

975 They request his acquaintance,            and he quickly asks

976 To be their servant soothly,            if they so pleased.

977 They take him between them,            with talking him lead

978 To chamber, to chimney,            and cheerfully order

979 Spices, that unsparingly            men sped them to bring,

980 And the excellent wine            there-with each time.

981 The lord lively aloft            leaps full oft,

982 Commanded mirth to be made            many a time,

983 Hastily doffed his hood,            and on a spear hanged it,

984 And waved them to win            the worship there-of,

985 Who most mirth might move            that Christmas time;

986 “And I shall try, by my faith,            to contend with the best

987 Lest I lose the hood,            with help of my friends.”

988 Thus with laughing speech            the lord makes merry,

989 For to gladden Sir Gawain            with games in hall

990 That night,

991 Till it was late eve;

992 The lord commanded light;

993 Sir Gawain takes his leave,

994 And then to bed aright.

970 When Gawayn gly?t on þat gay, þat graciously loked,

971 Wyth leue la?t of þe lorde he lent hem a?aynes.

972 Þe alder he haylses, heldande ful lowe;

973 Þe loueloker he lappe? a lyttel in arme?,

974 He kysses hir comlyly, and kny?tly he mele?.

975 Þay kallen hym of aquoyntaunce, and he hit quyk aske?

976 To be her seruaunt sothly, if hemself lyked.

977 Þay tan hym bytwene hem, wyth talkyng hym leden

978 To chambre, to chemné, and chefly þay asken

979 Spyce?, þat vnsparely men speded hom to bryng,

980 And þe wynnelych wyne þerwith vche tyme.

981 Þe lorde luflych aloft lepe? ful ofte,

982 Mynned merthe to be made vpon mony syþe?,

983 Hent he?ly of his hode, and on a spere henged,

984 And wayned hom to wynne þe worchip þerof,

985 Þat most myrþe my?t meue þat Crystenmas whyle;

986 “And I schal fonde, bi my fayth, to fylter wyth þe best

987 Er me wont þe wede, with help of my frende?.”

988 Þus wyth la?ande lote? þe lorde hit tayt make?,

989 For to glade Sir Gawayn with gomne? in halle

990 þat ny?t,

991 Til þat hit wat? tyme

992 Þe lord comaundet ly?t;

993 Sir Gawen his leue con nyme

994 And to his bed hym di?t.

995 On the morn, as each man            remembers that time

996 That Dear God for our destiny            to die was born,

997 Joy waxes in each dwelling            in world for His sake;

998 So did it there on that day            through dainties many:

999 Both at breakfast and at dinner            dishes full elaborate;

1000 Doughty men upon dais            dined on the best;

1001 The old ancient wife            highest she sits,

1002 The lord attentively by her lounged,            as I believe;

1003 Gawain and the gay lady            together they sat,

1004 Right in the middle,            where the meals first come,

1005 And are then served to all,            as to them best seemed;

1006 Each good man, by his degree,            graciously was served.

1007 There were meals, there was mirth,            there was much joy,

1008 That for to tell there-of            would be trouble for me,

1009 And to compose it just now            pained me indeed.

1010 But yet I know well that Wawain            and the winsome lady

1011 Such comfort of their company            caught together

1012 Through the dear dalliance            of their secret words,

1013 With clean courteous discourse            clear from filth,

1014 And their play surpassed            each princely game,

1015 And fair.

1016 Trumpets and drummers the best.

1017 Much piping there repairs;

1018 Each man tends his business,

1019 And those two tended theirs.

995 On þe morne, as vch mon myne? þat tyme

996 Þat Dry?tyn for oure destyné to de?e wat? borne,

997 Wele waxe? in vche a won in worlde for His sake;

998 So did hit þere on þat day þur? dayntés mony:

999 Boþe at mes and at mele messes ful quaynt

1000 Derf men vpon dece drest of þe best.

1001 Þe olde auncian wyf he?est ho sytte?,

1002 Þe lorde lufly her by lent, as I trowe;

1003 Gawan and þe gay burde togeder þay seten,

1004 Euen inmydde?, as þe messe metely come,

1005 And syþen þur? al þe sale as hem best semed;

1006 Bi vche grome at his degré grayþely wat? serued

1007 Þer wat? mete, þer wat? myrþe, þer wat? much ioye,

1008 Þat for to telle þerof hit me tene were,

1009 And to poynte hit ?et I pyned me parauenture.

1010 Bot ?et I wot þat Wawen and þe wale burde

1011 Such comfort of her compaynye ca?ten togeder

1012 Þur? her dere dalyaunce of her derne worde?,

1013 Wyth clene cortays carp closed fro fylþe,

1014 Þat hor play wat? passande vche prynce gomen,

1015 in vayres.

1016 Trumpe? and nakerys,

1017 Much pypyng þer repayres;

1018 Vche mon tented hys,

1019 And þay two tented þayres.

1020 Much delight was there driven            that day and the next,

1021 And the third as delightful            thrust in there-after;

1022 The joy of Saint John’s Day[8]            was gentle to hear,

1023 And was the last of the feasting,            liegemen there thought.

1024 There were guests to go            upon the gray morn,

1025 Therefore long they stayed awake,            and the wine drank,

1026 Danced all unceasingly            with dear carols.

1027 At the last, when it was late,            they took their leave,

1028 Each one to wend on his way            that was a guest warrior.

1029 Gawain gave him good day,            the good man him grabs,

1030 Leads him to his own chamber,            the chimney beside,

1031 And there he draws him aside,            and dearly him thanks

1032 For the noble worship            that he had shown him,

1033 As to honor his house            on that high season,

1034 And embellish his burg            with his buoyant good cheer:

1035 “Indeed sir, while I live,            I will be the better

1036 That Gawain has been my guest            at God’s own feast.”

1037 “Great thanks, sir,” quoth Gawain,            “in good faith it is yours;

1038 All the honor is your own;            may the High King reward you!

1039 And I am warrior at your will            to work your command,

1040 As I am beholden there-to,            in high and in low,

1041 By right.”

1042 The lord fast did him strain

1043 To hold longer that knight;

1044 To him answers Gawain

1045 That in no way he might.

1020 Much dut wat? þer dryuen þat day and þat oþer,

1021 And þe þryd as þro þronge in þerafter;

1022 Þe ioye of Sayn Jone? Day wat? gentyle to here,

1023 And wat? þe last of þe layk, leude? þer þo?ten.

1024 Þer wer gestes to go vpon þe gray morne,

1025 Forþy wonderly þay woke, and þe wyn dronken,

1026 Daunsed ful dre?ly wyth dere carole?.

1027 At þe last, when hit wat? late, þay lachen her leue,

1028 Vchon to wende on his way þat wat? wy?e stronge.

1029 Gawan gef hym god day, þe godmon hym lachche?,

1030 Ledes hym to his awen chambre, þe chymné bysyde,

1031 And þere he dra?e? hym on dry?e, and derely hym þonkke?

1032 Of þe wynne worschip þat he hym wayued hade,

1033 As to honour his hous on þat hy?e tyde,

1034 And enbelyse his bur? with his bele chere:

1035 “Iwysse sir, quyl I leue, me worþe? þe better

1036 Þat Gawayn hat? ben my gest at Godde? awen fest.”

1037 “Grant merci, sir,” quoþ Gawayn, “in god fayth hit is yowre?,

1038 Al þe honour is your awen; þe He?e Kyng yow ?elde!

1039 And I am wy?e at your wylle to worch youre hest,

1040 As I am halden þerto, in hy?e and in lo?e,

1041 bi ri?t.”

1042 Þe lorde fast can hym payne

1043 To holde lenger þe kny?t;

1044 To hym answare? Gawayn

1045 Bi non way þat he my?t.

1046 Then asked the fighter            full fair of himself

1047 What doughty deed had him driven            at that dear time

1048 So keenly from the king’s court            to canter all alone,

1049 Ere the holidays wholly            were hurried out of town.

1050 “For sooth, sir,” quoth the stalwart,            “ye say but the truth,

1051 A high errand and an important            haled me from those dwellings,

1052 For I myself am summoned            to search for a place,

1053 I know not in this world which way            to wend to find it.

1054 I want nothing but that I nigh it might be            on New Year’s morn.

1055 For all the land within Logres,            so help me Our Lord!

1056 Therefore, sir, this request            I require of you here,

1057 That ye me tell with truth            if ever ye tale heard

1058 Of the Green Chapel,            where it on ground stands,

1059 And of the knight that it keeps,            of color of green.

1060 There was established by agreement            a day arranged between us

1061 To meet that man at that landmark,            if I might last;

1062 And of that same New Year            but little now lacks,

1063 And I would look on that lad,            if God would let me,

1064 More gladly, by God’s Son,            than any good wield!

1065 Therefore, indeed, with your permission,            to wend me behooves.

1066 Nor have I now to be busy            but bare three days,

1067 And I as eager to fall dead            as fail of mine errand.”

1068 Then laughing quoth the lord,            “Now linger thee behooves,

1069 For I shall teach you to that place            by the time’s end,

1070 Let the Green Chapel upon ground            grieve you no more;

1071 And ye shall be in your bed,            brave, at thine ease;

1072 Wile forth the days, and fare            on the first of the year,

1073 And come to that place at midmorning,            to do what you please

1074 In defense;

1075 Dwell until New Year’s day,

1076 And rise, and ride thence.

1077 We shall set you on the way;

1078 It is not two miles hence.”

1046 Then frayned þe freke ful fayre at himseluen

1047 Quat derue dede had hym dryuen at þat dere tyme

1048 So kenly fro þe kynge? kourt to kayre al his one,

1049 Er þe halidaye? holly were halet out of toun.

1050 “For soþe, sir,” quoþ þe segge, “?e sayn bot þe trawþe,

1051 A he?e ernde and a hasty me hade fro þo wone?,

1052 For I am sumned myselfe to sech to a place,

1053 I ne wot in worlde whederwarde to wende hit to fynde.

1054 I nolde bot if I hit negh my?t on Nw ?eres morne

1055 For alle þe londe inwyth Logres, so me oure Lorde help!

1056 Forþy, sir, þis enquest I require yow here,

1057 Þat ?e me telle with trawþe if euer ?e tale herde

1058 Of þe Grene Chapel, quere hit on grounde stonde?,

1059 And of þe kny?t þat hit kepes, of colour of grene.

1060 Þer wat? stabled bi statut a steuen vus bytwene

1061 To mete þat mon at þat mere, ?if I my?t last;

1062 And of þat ilk Nw ?ere bot neked now wonte?,

1063 And I wolde loke on þat lede, if God me let wolde,

1064 Gladloker, bi Godde? sun, þen any god welde!

1065 Forþi, iwysse, bi yowre wylle, wende me bihoues,

1066 Naf I now to busy bot bare þre daye?,

1067 And me als fayn to falle feye as fayly of myyn ernde.”

1068 Þenne la?ande quoþ þe lorde, “Now leng þe byhoues,

1069 For I schal teche yow to þat terme bi þe tyme? ende,

1070 Þe Grene Chapayle vpon grounde greue yow no more;

1071 Bot ?e schal be in yowre bed, burne, at þyn ese;

1072 Quyle forth daye?, and ferk on þe fyrst of þe ?ere,

1073 And cum to þat merk at mydmorn, to make quat yow like?

1074 in spenne;

1075 Dowelle? whyle New ?eres daye,

1076 And rys, and rayke? þenne.

1077 Mon schal yow sette in waye;

1078 Hit is not two myle henne.”

1079 Then was Gawain full glad,            and gleefully he laughed:

1080 “Now I thank you abundantly            over all other things.

1081 Now achieved is my quest!            I shall at your will

1082 Dwell, and else do            whatever ye decide.”

1083 Then the sire seized him            and sat him beside,

1084 Let the ladies be fetched            to please them the better.

1085 There was seemly pleasure,            in privacy by themselves;

1086 The lord used for love            language so merry,

1087 Like a warrior that went out of his wit,            nor knew what he did.

1088 Then he called to the knight,            crying loud,

1089 “Ye have decided to do            the deed that I bid;

1090 Will ye hold this promise            here for this once?”

1091 “Yea, sir, for sooth,”            said the stalwart true,

1092 “While I bide in your burg,            I am bound to your command.”

1093 “For ye have travelled,” quoth the true knight,            “a trip from so far,

1094 And then stayed up late with me;            ye are not well restored,

1095 Neither of sustenance nor of sleep,            soothly I know;

1096 Ye shall linger in your loft,            and lie in your ease

1097 Tomorrow during the mass-time,            and to meal wend

1098 When ye will, with my wife,            that with you shall sit

1099 And comfort you with company,            till I to court return;

1100 Linger herein;

1101 And I shall early rise;

1102 On hunting will I wend.”

1103 Gawain grants this likewise,

1104 Holding him his friend.

1079 Þenne wat? Gawan ful glad, and gomenly he la?ed:

1080 “Now I þonk yow þryuandely þur? alle oþer þynge.

1081 Now acheued is my chaunce, I schal at your wylle

1082 Dowelle, and elle? do quat ?e demen.”

1083 Þenne sesed hym þe syre and set hym bysyde,

1084 Let þe ladie? be fette to lyke hem þe better.

1085 Þer wat? seme solace by hemself stille;

1086 Þe lorde let for luf lote? so myry,

1087 As wy? þat wolde of his wyte, ne wyst quat he my?t.

1088 Þenne he carped to þe kny?t, criande loude,

1089 “?e han demed to do þe dede þat I bidde;

1090 Wyl ?e halde þis hes here at þys one??”

1091 “?e, sir, for soþe,” sayd þe segge trwe,

1092 “Whyl I byde in yowre bore, be bayn to yowre hest.”

1093 “For ?e haf trauayled,” quoþ þe tulk, “towen fro ferre,

1094 And syþen waked me wyth, ?e arn not wel waryst

1095 Nauþer of sostnaunce ne of slepe, soþly I knowe;

1096 ?e schal lenge in your lofte, and ly?e in your ese

1097 To-morn quyle þe messequyle, and to mete wende

1098 When ?e wyl, wyth my wyf, þat wyth yow schal sitte

1099 And comfort yow with compayny, til I to cort torne;

1100 ?e lende,

1101 And I schal erly ryse;

1102 On huntyng wyl I wende.”

1103 Gauayn grante? alle þyse,

1104 Hym heldande, as þe hende.

1105 “Yet further,” quoth that fighter,            “first let’s agree:

1106 Whatsoever I win in the wood            will be yours;

1107 And what ye achieve here            exchange it with me for that.

1108 Sweet, swap we so,            swear with truth,

1109 Whatever, liegemen, so befalls,            loss or gain.”

1110 “By God,” quoth Gawain the good,            “I grant that,

1111 And that you like such amusements,            seems laudable to me.”

1112 “Let someone bring us this beverage;            this bargain is made.”

1113 So said the lord of that land;            they laughed each one,

1114 They drank, and dallied,            and dealt unrestrained,

1115 These lords and ladies,            while they pleased;

1116 And then in the French fashion            and many fair words

1117 They stood and stayed            and softly spoke,

1118 Kissed full comely            and caught their leave.

1119 By many liegemen with light            and gleaming torches

1120 Each brave to his bed            was brought at the last

1121 Full soft.

1122 To bed yet ere they wend,

1123 They repeated covenants oft;

1124 The old lord of that land

1125 Could well hold play aloft.

1105 “?et firre,” quoþ þe freke, “a forwarde we make:

1106 Quat-so-euer I wynne in þe wod hit worþe? to youre?;

1107 And quat chek so ?e acheue chaunge me þerforne.

1108 Swete, swap we so, sware with trawþe,

1109 Queþer, leude, so lymp, lere oþer better.”

1110 “Bi God,” quoþ Gawayn þe gode, “I grant þertylle,

1111 And þat yow lyst for to layke, lef hit me þynkes.”

1112 “Who brynge? vus þis beuerage, þis bargayn is maked.”

1113 So sayde þe lorde of þat lede; þay la?ed vchone,

1114 Þay dronken and daylyeden and dalten vnty?tel,

1115 Þise lorde? and ladye?, quyle þat hem lyked;

1116 And syþen with Frenkysch fare and fele fayre lote?

1117 Þay stoden and stemed and stylly speken,

1118 Kysten ful comlyly and ka?ten her leue.

1119 With mony leude ful ly?t and lemande torches

1120 Vche burne to his bed wat? bro?t at þe laste,

1121 ful softe.

1122 To bed ?et er þay ?ede,

1123 Recorded couenaunte? ofte;

1124 Þe olde lorde of þat leude

1125 Cowþe wel halde layk alofte.

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

III

1126 Full early before the day            the folk get up,

1127 Guests that would go            called their grooms,

1128 And they bustle up busily            broncos to saddle,

1129 Tighten their tackle,            truss up their bags,

1130 The richest ready themselves            to ride all arrayed;

1131 They leap up lightly,            lay hold of their bridles,

1132 Each warrior on his way            where he well pleased.

1133 The lively lord of the land            was not the last

1134 Arrayed for the riding,            with riders full many;

1135 Had a snack hastily,            when he had heard mass,

1136 With bugle to the field            he briskly bounds.

1137 Before any daylight            gleamed upon earth

1138 He with his horsemen            on high horses mounted.

1139 Then these crafty handlers            coupled hounds in pairs,

1140 Unclosed the kennel door            and called them there-out,

1141 Blew boldly in bugles            three long notes;

1142 Big hounds bayed there-at            and brave noise made;

1143 Handlers whipped and turned back            those chasing false scents,

1144 A hundred of hunters,            as I have heard tell,

1145 Of the best.

1146 To their stations handlers strode;

1147 Leashes huntsmen off cast;

1148 There rose for horn-blasts good

1149 Great noise in that forest.

Sir Gawayn and þe Grene Knyght

III

1126 Ful erly bifore þe day þe folk vprysen,

1127 Gestes þat go wolde hor grome? þay calden,

1128 And þay busken vp bilyue blonkke? to sadel,

1129 Tyffen her takles, trussen her males,

1130 Richen hem þe rychest, to ryde alle arayde;

1131 Lepen vp ly?tly, lachen her brydeles,

1132 Vche wy?e on his way þer hym wel lyked.

1133 Þe leue lorde of þe londe wat? not þe last

1134 Arayed for þe rydyng, with renkke? ful mony;

1135 Ete a sop hastyly, when he hade herde masse,

1136 With bugle to bent-felde he buske? bylyue.

1137 By þat any dayly?t lemed vpon erþe

1138 He with his haþeles on hy?e horsses weren.

1139 Þenne þise cacheres þat couþe cowpled hor hounde?,

1140 Vnclosed þe kenel dore and calde hem þeroute,

1141 Blwe bygly in bugle? þre bare mote;

1142 Braches bayed þerfore and breme noyse maked;

1143 And þay chastysed and charred on chasyng þat went,

1144 A hundreth of hunteres, as I haf herde telle,

1145 of þe best.

1146 To trystors vewters ?od,

1147 Couples huntes of kest;

1148 Þer ros for blaste? gode

1149 Gret rurd in þat forest.

1150 At the first sound of the quest            quaked wild beasts;

1151 Deer drove through the dale,            doddered for dread,

1152 Hied to the heights,            but hurriedly they were

1153 Restrained by the beaters,            that sternly shouted.

1154 They let the harts pass by,            with their high horns,

1155 The brave bucks also            with their broad antlers;

1156 For the fine lord had forbidden            in closed-season time

1157 That any man there should move            on the male deer.

1158 The hinds were held in            with “hey!” and “be ware!”

1159 The does driven with great din            to the deep valley;

1160 There might man see, as they slipped by,            slanting arrows:

1161 At each path in the woods            an arrow whipped by

1162 That boldly bit on the brown            with broad arrowheads.

1163 Hey! they bellow, and bleed,            by banks they die,

1164 And ever bloodhounds in a rush            rapidly them follow;

1165 Hunters with high horns            hastened them after

1166 With such a crackling cry            as if cliffs had burst.

1167 Whatever wild that escaped            the warriors who shot

1168 Dogs pulled down and tore            at the hunt station,

1169 When they were harassed at the heights            and harried to the waters;

1170 The lads were so well trained            at the low hunt-stations,

1171 And the greyhounds so great,            that got them quickly

1172 And filched them faster            than fighters could look

1173 There aright.

1174 The lord his bliss to enjoy

1175 Did oft race ahead and alight,

1176 And drove that day with joy

1177 Thus to the dark night.

1150 At þe fyrst quethe of þe quest quaked þe wylde;

1151 Der drof in þe dale, doted for drede,

1152 Hi?ed to þe hy?e, bot heterly þay were

1153 Restayed with þe stablye, þat stoutly ascryed.

1154 Þay let þe hertte? haf þe gate, with þe hy?e hedes,

1155 Þe breme bukke? also with hor brode paume?;

1156 For þe fre lorde hade defende in fermysoun tyme

1157 Þat þer schulde no mon meue to þe male dere.

1158 Þe hinde? were halden in with “hay!” and “war!”

1159 Þe does dryuen with gret dyn to þe depe slade?;

1160 Þer my?t mon se, as þay slypte, slentyng of arwes:

1161 At vche wende vnder wande wapped a flone

1162 Þat bigly bote on þe broun with ful brode hede?.

1163 What! þay brayen, and bleden, bi bonkke? þay de?en,

1164 And ay rachches in a res radly hem fol?es,

1165 Huntere? wyth hy?e horne hasted hem after

1166 Wyth such a crakkande kry as klyffes haden brusten.

1167 What wylde so atwaped wy?es þat schotten

1168 Wat? al toraced and rent at þe resayt,

1169 Bi þay were tened at þe hy?e and taysed to þe wattre?;

1170 Þe lede? were so lerned at þe lo?e trysteres,

1171 And þe grehounde? so grete, þat geten hem bylyue

1172 And hem tofylched, as fast as freke? my?t loke,

1173 þer ry?t.

1174 Þe lorde for blys abloy

1175 Ful oft con launce and ly?t,

1176 And drof þat day wyth joy

1177 Thus to þe derk ny?t.

1178 Thus gallops this lord            by a linden-wood’s edges,

1179 And Gawain the good man            in gay bed lies,

1180 Lurks while the daylight            gleamed on the walls,

1181 Under glowing coverings,            curtained about;

1182 And as in slumbering he slid,            slightly he heard

1183 A little din at his door,            and stealthily done;

1184 And he lifts up his head            out of the bedclothes,

1185 A corner of the curtain            he caught up a little,

1186 And looks warily thitherward            what it might be.

1187 It was the lady,            loveliest to behold,

1188 That drew the door after her,            full stealthy and still,

1189 And moved toward the bed;            and the brave shammed,

1190 And laid him down cautiously,            and let on that he slept;

1191 And she stepped stilly            and stole to his bed,

1192 Cast up the curtain            and crept within,

1193 And set her full softly            on the bed-side,

1194 And lingered there very long            to look when he wakened.

1195 The lad lay lurking            a full long while,

1196 Considered in his conscience            to what that case might

1197 Move or amount to;            a marvel he thought,

1198 But yet he said in himself,            “More seemly it would be

1199 To inquire with my speech            openly what she wants.”

1200 Then he awakened, and twisted,            and toward her turned,

1201 And unlocked his eye-lids,            and let on that he wondered,

1202 And signed himself, as if by his speech            the safer he would be,

1203 With hand.

1204 With chin and cheek full sweet,

1205 Both white and red in blend;

1206 Full lovingly did she him greet

1207 With small laughing lips, as a friend.

1178 Þus layke? þis lorde by lynde-wode? eue?,

1179 And Gawayn þe god mon in gay bed lyge?,

1180 Lurkke? quyl þe dayly?t lemed on þe wowes,

1181 Vnder couertour ful clere, cortyned aboute;

1182 And as in slomeryng he slode, sle?ly he herde

1183 A littel dyn at his dor, and dernly vpon;

1184 And he heue? vp his hed out of þe cloþes,

1185 A corner of þe cortyn he ca?t vp a lyttel,

1186 And wayte? warly þiderwarde quat hit be my?t.

1187 Hit wat? þe ladi, loflyest to beholde,

1188 Þat dro? þe dor after hir ful dernly and stylle,

1189 And bo?ed towarde þe bed; and þe burne schamed,

1190 And layde hym doun lystyly, and let as he slepte;

1191 And ho stepped stilly and stel to his bedde,

1192 Kest vp þe cortyn and creped withinne,

1193 And set hir ful softly on þe bed-syde,

1194 And lenged þere selly longe to loke quen he wakened.

1195 Þe lede lay lurked a ful longe quyle,

1196 Compast in his concience to quat þat cace my?t

1197 Meue oþer amount; to meruayle hym þo?t,

1198 Bot ?et he sayde in hymself, “More semly hit were

1199 To aspye wyth my spelle in space quat ho wolde.”

1200 Þen he wakenede, and wroth, and to hir warde torned,

1201 And vnlouked his y?e-lydde?, and let as hym wondered,

1202 And sayned hym, as bi his sa?e þe sauer to worthe,

1203 with hande.

1204 Wyth chynne and cheke ful swete,

1205 Boþe quit and red in blande;

1206 Ful lufly con ho lete

1207 Wyth lyppe? smal la?ande.

1208 “Good morrow, Sir Gawain,”            said that gay lady,

1209 “Ye are not a sly sleeper,            that one may slip hither;

1210 Now are ye taken in a trice!            But a truce we may shape:

1211 I shall bind you in your bed,            that be ye sure”:

1212 All laughing the lady            launched those jests.

1213 “Good morrow, gay,”            quoth Gawain the blithe,

1214 “I shall work at your will,            and that I well like,

1215 For I yield me utterly,            and yearn for grace,

1216 And that is best, as I believe,            for I am obliged by need.”

1217 And thus he jested in turn            with many a jolly laugh:

1218 “But would ye, lady lovely,            then grant me leave,

1219 And parole your prisoner,            and pray him to rise,

1220 I would bound from this bed,            and prepare me better;

1221 I should have the more comfort            to converse with you.”

1222 “Nay for sooth, beau sir,”            said that sweet,

1223 “Ye shall not rise from your bed;            I will arrange things better;

1224 I shall lock you here,            on that other side also,

1225 And then converse with my knight            that I have caught;

1226 For I well know, indeed,            Sir Wawain ye are,

1227 That all the world worships            where-ever ye ride;

1228 Your honor, your courtesy,            is courteously praised

1229 By lords, by ladies,            by all that bear life.

1230 And now ye are here, indeed,            and we but ourselves alone;

1231 My lord and his lads            are a long way off,

1232 Other braves in their beds,            and my bonnie maids as well,

1233 The door drawn and locked            with a doughty hasp;

1234 And since I have in this house            him that all pleases,

1235 I shall wile my while well,            while it lasts,

1236 With tale.

1237 You are welcome to my body,

1238 Your own will to avail;

1239 It behooves me of pure force

1240 Your servant be, and I shall.”

1208 “God moroun, Sir Gawayn,” sayde þat gay lady,

1209 “?e ar a sleper vnsly?e, þat mon may slyde hider;

1210 Now ar ?e tan as-tyt! Bot true vus may schape:

1211 I schal bynde yow in your bedde, þat be ?e trayst”:

1212 Al la?ande þe lady lanced þo bourde?.

1213 “Goud moroun, gay,” quoþ Gawayn þe blyþe,

1214 “Me schal worþe at your wille, and þat me wel lyke?,

1215 For I ?elde me ?ederly, and ?e?e after grace,

1216 And þat is þe best, be my dome, for me byhoue? nede”:

1217 And þus he bourded a?ayn with mony a blyþe la?ter;

1218 “Bot wolde ?e, lady louely, þen leue me grante,

1219 And deprece your prysoun, and pray hym to ryse,

1220 I wolde bo?e of þis bed, and busk me better;

1221 I schulde keuer þe more comfort to karp yow wyth.”

1222 “Nay for soþe, beau sir,” sayd þat swete,

1223 “?e schal not rise of your bedde; I rych yow better;

1224 I schal happe yow here þat oþer half als,

1225 And syþen karp wyth my kny?t þat I ka?t haue;

1226 For I wene wel, iwysse, Sir Wowen ?e are,

1227 Þat alle þe worlde worchipe? quere-so ?e ride;

1228 Your honour, your hendelayk is hendely praysed

1229 With lorde?, wyth ladyes, with alle þat lyf bere.

1230 And now ?e ar here, iwysse, and we bot oure one;

1231 My lorde and his lede? ar on lenþe faren,

1232 Oþer burne? in her bedde, and my burde? als,

1233 Þe dor drawen and dit with a derf haspe;

1234 And syþen I haue in þis hous hym þat al lyke?,

1235 I schal ware my whyle wel, quyl hit laste?,

1236 with tale.

1237 ?e ar welcum to my cors,

1238 Yowre awen won to wale;

1239 Me behoue? of fyne force

1240 Your seruaunt be, and schale.”

1241 “In good faith,” quoth Gawain,            “gainful it seems to me,

1242 Though I be not now he            of whom ye speak

1243 To reach such reverence            as ye rehearse here

1244 I am a warrior unworthy,            I know well myself.

1245 By God, I would be glad,            and if it seemed good to you,

1246 That my speech or my service            I might set

1247 To the pleasure of your self;            it would be a pure joy.”

1248 “In good faith, Sir Gawain,”            quoth the gay lady,

1249 “The praise and the prowess            that pleases all others,

1250 If I blamed it or slighted its value,            it would be little pleasure;

1251 But there are many ladies            that would rather now

1252 Have thee, handsome, in their hold,            as I have thee here,

1253 Dearly to dally            with your dainty words,

1254 Cover them with comfort            and cool their cares,

1255 Than much of the goods            or gold that they have.

1256 But as I love that same Lord            That lifts up the heavens,

1257 I have it wholly in my hand            that all desire,

1258 Through grace.”

1259 She made him much good cheer,

1260 Who was so fair of face;

1261 The knight with speeches pure

1262 Answered to every case.

1241 “In god fayth,” quoþ Gawayn, “gayn hit me þynkke?,

1242 Þa? I be not now he þat ?e of speken

1243 To reche to such reuerence as ?e reherce here

1244 I am wy?e vnworþy, I wot wel myseluen.

1245 Bi God, I were glad, and yow god þo?t,

1246 At sa?e oþer at seruyce þat I sette my?t

1247 To þe plesaunce of your prys; hit were a pure ioye.”

1248 “In god fayth, Sir Gawayn,” quoþ þe gay lady,

1249 “Þe prys and þe prowes þat plese? al oþer,

1250 If I hit lakked oþer set at ly?t, hit were littel daynté;

1251 Bot hit ar ladyes inno?e þat leuer wer nowþe

1252 Haf þe, hende, in hor holde, as I þe habbe here,

1253 To daly with derely your daynté worde?,

1254 Keuer hem comfort and colen her care?,

1255 Þen much of þe garysoun oþer golde þat þay hauen.

1256 Bot I louue þat ilk Lorde þat þe lyfte halde?,

1257 I haf hit holly in my honde þat al desyres,

1258 þur?e grace.”

1259 Scho made hym so gret chere,

1260 Þat wat? so fayr of face;

1261 Þe kny?t with speches skere

1262 Answared to vche a cace.

1263 “Madame,” quoth the merry man,            “May Mary reward you,

1264 For I have found, in good faith,            your free nobility,

1265 And full many from other folk            find praise for their deeds,

1266 But the honor that they do to me,            does not equal my deserts;

1267 It is the worship of yourself,            who know nothing but good.”

1268 “By Mary,” quoth the mannerly one,            “To me it seems otherwise;

1269 For were I worth all the multitude            of women alive,

1270 And all the wealth of the world            were in my hand,

1271 And I should shop and choose            to purchase me a lord,

1272 For the qualities that I have known,            in thee, knight, here,

1273 Of beauty and good manners            and blithe demeanor,

1274 And what I have ere heard            and hold it here true,

1275 There should no fighter upon field            before you be chosen.”

1276 “Indeed, worthy,” quoth the warrior,            “ye have chosen well better;

1277 But I am proud of the price            that ye put on me,

1278 And, soberly your servant,            my sovereign I hold you,

1279 And your knight I become,            and Christ you reward.”

1280 Thus they talked of this and that            till midmorning passed,

1281 And ever the lady let on            that she him loved much;

1282 The fighter fared with defense,            and feigned full fair.

1283 “Though I were the brightest,”            the beauty had in mind,

1284 “The less room for love in his luggage            till the journey he sought

1285 Is begun,

1286 For the dint that shall him grieve,

1287 And now it must be done.”

1288 The lady then spoke of leave;

1289 He granted it at once.

1263 “Madame,” quoth the myry man, “Mary yow ?elde,

1264 For I haf founden, in god fayth, yowre fraunchis nobele

1265 And oþer ful much of oþer folk fongen bi hor dede?,

1266 Bot þe daynté þat þay delen, for my disert nys euen;

1267 Hit is þe worchyp of yourself, þat no?t bot wel conne?.”

1268 “Bi Mary,” quoþ þe menskful, “me þynk hit an oþer;

1269 For were I worth al þe wone of wymmen alyue,

1270 And al þe wele of þe worlde were in my honde,

1271 And I schulde chepen and chose to cheue me a lorde,

1272 For þe costes þat I haf knowen vpon þe, kny?t, here,

1273 Of bewté and debonerté and blyþe semblaunt,

1274 And þat I haf er herkkened and halde hit here trwee,

1275 Þer schulde no freke vpon folde bifore yow be chosen.”

1276 “Iwysse, worþy,” quoþ þe wy?e, “?e haf waled wel better;

1277 Bot I am proude of þe prys þat ?e put on me,

1278 And, soberly your seruaunt, my souerayn I holde yow,

1279 And yowre kny?t I becom, and Kryst yow foryelde.”

1280 Þus þay meled of muchquat til mydmorn paste,

1281 And ay þe lady let lyk as hym loued mych;

1282 Þe freke ferde with defence, and feted ful fayre.

1283 “Þa? I were burde bryt?est,” þe burde in mynde hade,

1284 “Þe lasse luf in his lode for lur þat he so?t

1285 boute hone,

1286 Þe dunte þat schulde hym deue,

1287 And nede? hit most be done.”

1288 Þe lady þenn spek of leue,

1289 He granted hir ful sone.

1290 Then she gave him good day,            and with a glance laughed,

1291 And as she stood, she astonished him            with full strong words:

1292 “Now He that sustains each speech            for this sport reward you!

1293 But that ye be Gawain,            it goes against what I know.”

1294 “Wherefore?” quoth the fighter,            and quickly he asks,

1295 Feared lest he had failed            in the form of his speech;

1296 But the lady him blessed,            and said “For this reason:

1297 One so good as Gawain            is rightly considered,

1298 And courtesy enclosed            so completely in himself,

1299 Could not easily have lingered            so long with a lady,

1300 But he had craved a kiss,            by his courtesy,

1301 By some touch of some trifle            at some tale’s end.”

1302 Then quoth Wawain: “Indeed,            work as you like;

1303 I shall kiss at your commandment,            as a knight should,

1304 And more, lest he displease you,            so plead it no more.”

1305 She comes nearer with that,            and catches him in arms,

1306 Bows lovingly down            and the liegeman kisses.

1307 Either the other they courteously            entrust to Christ.

1308 She goes forth to the door            without din more,

1309 And he prepares him to rise            and rushes him soon,

1310 Calls to his servant,            selects his clothes,

1311 Bounds forth, when he was ready,            blithely to mass;

1312 And then he moved to his meal            that worthily him awaited,

1313 And made merry all day,            till the moon rose,

1314 With game.

1315 Was never fair fighter so well

1316 Received by such worthy dames,

1317 The elder and the belle;

1318 Much pleasure and ever the same.

1290 Þenne ho gef hym god day, and wyth a glent la?ed,

1291 And as ho stod, ho stonyed hym wyth ful stor worde?:

1292 “Now He þat spede? vche spech þis disport ?elde yow!

1293 Bot þat ?e be Gawan, hit got? in mynde.”

1294 “Querfore?” quoþ þe freke, and freschly he aske?,

1295 Ferde lest he hade fayled in fourme of his castes;

1296 Bot þe burde hym blessed, and “Bi þis skyl” sayde:

1297 “So god as Gawayn gaynly is halden,

1298 And cortaysye is closed so clene in hymseluen,

1299 Couth not ly?tly haf lenged so long wyth a lady,

1300 Bot he had craued a cosse, bi his courtaysye,

1301 Bi sum towch of summe tryfle at sum tale? ende.”

1302 Þen quoþ Wowen: “Iwysse, worþe as yow lyke?;

1303 I schal kysse at your comaundement, as a kny?t falle?,

1304 And fire, lest he displese yow, so plede hit no more.”

1305 Ho comes nerre with þat, and cache? hym in arme?,

1306 Loute? luflych adoun and þe leude kysse?.

1307 Þay comly bykennen to Kryst ayþer oþer;

1308 Ho dos hir forth at þe dore withouten dyn more,

1309 And he ryches hym to ryse and rapes hym sone,

1310 Clepes to his chamberlayn, choses his wede,

1311 Bo?e? forth, quen he wat? boun, blyþely to masse;

1312 And þenne he meued to his mete þat menskly hym keped,

1313 And made myry al day, til þe mone rysed,

1314 with game.

1315 Wat? neuer freke fayrer fonge

1316 Bitwene two so dyngne dame,

1317 Þe alder and þe ?onge;

1318 Much solace set þay same.

1319 And ever the lord of the land            is intent on his game,

1320 To hunt in woods and heath            at barren hinds;

1321 Such a sum he there slew            till the sun went down,

1322 Of does and of other deer,            wondrous to declare.

1323 Then fiercely the folk            flocked in at the last,

1324 And quickly of the quelled deer,            their quarry, made a pile,

1325 The best bounded there-to            with many braves,

1326 Gathered the greatest in grease            that were there,

1327 And had them carefully cut open,            as the art requires;

1328 Searched out at the assessment            some that were there;

1329 Two fingers of fat they found            in the least of their quarry.

1330 Next they slit the slot of the throat,            seized the stomach,

1331 Shaved it with a sharp knife,            and the shining flesh tied back;

1332 Next they ripped off the four legs,            and rent off the hide,

1333 Then they broke open the belly,            took out the bowels

1334 Carefully, to avoid loosening,            tied back the flesh;

1335 They proceeded to the throat,            and mannerly parted

1336 The gullet from the windpipe,            and threw out the guts;

1337 Then shear they out the shoulders            with their sharp knives,

1338 Hauled them out by a little hole            to keep the sides whole.

1339 Next broke they the breast            and pulled it in two,

1340 And then again begins            one at the throat,

1341 Rips it up quickly            right to the fork,

1342 Voids out the waste parts,            and verily there-after

1343 All the membranes by the ribs            rapidly they loosen;

1344 So correctly they cleaned            the back bones,

1345 All the way to the haunch,            that it hanged all together,

1346 And they heave it up all whole,            and hew it off there,

1347 And that they take for “the numbles”            by name, as I believe,

1348 Assigned;

1349 By the thigh-bones they placed

1350 The flesh they loosened behind;

1351 To hew it in two they haste,

1352 The backbone to unbind.

1319 And ay þe lorde of þe londe is lent on his gamne?,

1320 To hunt in holte? and heþe at hynde? barayne;

1321 Such a sowme he þer slowe bi þat þe sunne heldet,

1322 Of dos and of oþer dere, to deme were wonder.

1323 Þenne fersly þay flokked in folk at þe laste,

1324 And quykly of þe quelled dere a querré þay maked,

1325 Þe best bo?ed þerto with burne? innoghe,

1326 Gedered þe grattest of gres þat þer were,

1327 And didden hem derely vndo as þe dede aske?;

1328 Serched hem at þe asay summe þat þer were;

1329 Two fyngeres þay fonde of þe fowlest of alle.

1330 Syþen þay slyt þe slot, sesed þe erber,

1331 Schaued wyth a scharp knyf, and þe schyre knitten;

1332 Syþen rytte þay þe foure lymmes, and rent of þe hyde,

1333 Þen brek þay þe balé, þe bowele? out token

1334 Lystily for laucyng þe lere of þe knot;

1335 Þay gryped to þe gargulun, and grayþely departed

1336 Þe wesaunt fro þe wynt-hole, and walt out þe gutte?;

1337 Þen scher þay out þe schuldere? with her scharp knyue?,

1338 Haled hem by a lyttel hole to haue hole sydes.

1339 Siþen britned þay þe brest and brayden hit in twynne,

1340 And eft at þe gargulun bigyne? on þenne,

1341 Ryue? hit vp radly ry?t to þe by?t,

1342 Voyde? out þe avanters, and verayly þerafter

1343 Alle þe ryme? by þe rybbe? radly þay lance;

1344 So ryde þay of by resoun bi þe rygge bone?,

1345 Euenden to þe haunche, þat henged alle samen,

1346 And heuen hit vp al hole, and hwen hit of þere,

1347 And þat þay neme for þe noumbles bi nome, as I trowe,

1348 bi kynde;

1349 Bi þe by?t al of þe þy?es

1350 Þe lappe? þay lance bihynde;

1351 To hewe hit in two þay hy?es,

1352 Bi þe bakbon to vnbynde.

1353 Both the head and the neck            they hew off then,

1354 And then split they the sides            swiftly from the spine,

1355 And the “crow’s share”            they cast in a thicket;

1356 Then pierced they through            both thick sides by the rib,

1357 And hanged them both            by hocks of the legs.

1358 Each fighter has his fee,            as befits him to have.

1359 Upon a pelt of the fair beast            feed they their hounds

1360 With the liver and the lungs,            the lining of the stomach,

1361 And bread bathed in blood            blended among it.

1362 Boldly horns blew “taken!”            Their hounds bayed.

1363 Then take they their flesh,            fare to home,

1364 Sounding full stoutly            many long notes.

1365 By the time daylight was done            the company was all come

1366 Into the comely castle,            where the knight bides

1367 Full still,

1368 With bliss and bright fire heat,

1369 Comes the lord until

1370 Gawain with him did meet,

1371 And all was joy at will.

1353 Boþe þe hede and þe hals þay hwen of þenne,

1354 And syþen sunder þay þe syde? swyft fro þe chyne,

1355 And þe corbeles fee þay kest in a greue;

1356 Þenn þurled þay ayþer þik side þur? bi þe rybbe,

1357 And henged þenne ayþer bi ho?e? of þe fourche?.

1358 Vche freke for his fee, as falle? for to haue.

1359 Vpon a felle of þe fayre best fede þay þayr houndes

1360 Wyth þe lyuer and þe ly?te?, þe leþer of þe paunche?,

1361 And bred baþed in blod blende þeramonge?.

1362 Baldely þay blw prys, bayed þayr rachche?,

1363 Syþen fonge þay her flesche, folden to home,

1364 Strakande ful stoutly mony stif mote?.

1365 Bi þat þe dayly?t wat? done þe douthe wat? al wonen

1366 Into þe comly castel, þer þe kny?t bide?

1367 ful stille,

1368 Wyth blys and bry?t fyr bette.

1369 Þe lorde is comen þertylle;

1370 When Gawayn wyth hym mette

1371 Þer wat? bot wele at wylle.

1372 Then commanded the lord in that hall            to summon all the court.

1373 Both the ladies came down            with their lovely maids.

1374 Before all the folk on the floor,            fighters he bids

1375 Verily his venison            to fetch before him him,

1376 And all goodly, in game,            Gawain he called,

1377 Tells him the tally            of beasts taken,

1378 Shows him the shining grease            shorn from the ribs.

1379 “How repay you this play?            Have I the prize won?

1380 Have I well-earned thanks            through my craft deserved?”

1381 “Yea indeed,” quoth that other warrior,            “here is the fairest game

1382 That I have seen this seven year            in season of winter.”

1383 “And all I give you, Gawain,”            quoth the gallant then,

1384 “For by accord of our covenant            ye may claim it as your own.”

1385 “This is sooth,” quoth the stalwart,            “I say you the same:

1386 What I have worthily won            within these walls,

1387 Indeed with as good will            it becomes yours.”

1388 He clasps his fair neck            within his arms,

1389 And kisses him as courteously            as he knew how:

1390 “Take you there my winnings,            I won no more;

1391 I grant it completely,            and would it were more.”

1392 “It is good,” quoth the good man,            “great thanks there-for.

1393 It would be the better,            if ye would me declare

1394 Where ye won this same wealth            by wit of yourself.”

1395 “That was not agreed,” quoth he,            “ask me no more.

1396 For ye have taken what belongs to you;            expect nothing more

1397 There-by.”

1398 They laughed, and made them blithe

1399 With words of praise on high;

1400 To supper they swiftly stride,

1401 Some dainties new to try.

1372 Thenne comaunded þe lorde in þat sale to samen alle þe meny.

1373 Boþe þe ladyes on loghe to ly?t with her burdes.

1374 Bifore alle þe folk on þe flette, freke? he bedde?

1375 Verayly his venysoun to fech hym byforne,

1376 And al godly in gomen Gawayn he called,

1377 Teche? hym to þe tayles of ful tayt bestes,

1378 Schewe? hym þe schyree grece schorne vpon rybbes.

1379 “How paye? yow þis play? Haf I prys wonnen?

1380 Haue I þryuandely þonk þur? my craft serued?”

1381 “?e iwysse,” quoþ þat oþer wy?e, “here is wayth fayrest

1382 Þat I se? þis seuen ?ere in sesoun of wynter.”

1383 “And al I gif yow, Gawayn,” quoþ þe gome þenne,

1384 “For by acorde of couenaunt ?e craue hit as your awen.”

1385 “Þis is soth,” quoþ þe segge, “I say yow þat ilke:

1386 Þat I haf worthyly wonnen þis wone? wythinne,

1387 Iwysse with as god wylle hit worþe? to youre?.”

1388 He hasppe? his fayre hals his arme? wythinne,

1389 And kysses hym as comlyly as he couþe awyse:

1390 “Tas yow þere my cheuicaunce, I cheued no more;

1391 I wowche hit saf fynly, þa? feler hit were.”

1392 “Hit is god,” quoþ þe godmon, “grant mercy þerfore.

1393 Hit may be such hit is þe better, and ?e me breue wolde

1394 Where ?e wan þis ilk wele bi wytte of yorseluen.”

1395 “Þat wat? not forward,” quoþ he, “frayst me no more.

1396 For ?e haf tan þat yow tyde?, trawe non oþer

1397 ?e mowe.”

1398 Þay la?ed, and made hem blyþe

1399 Wyth lote? þat were to lowe;

1400 To soper þay ?ede as-swyþe,

1401 Wyth dayntés nwe innowe.

1402 And then by the chimney            in chamber they sat,

1403 Warriors the bright wine            brought to them oft,

1404 And again in their bantering            both agree in the morn

1405 To fulfill the same agreements            that they before made:

1406 Whatever by chance betides,            their winnings to exchange,

1407 Whatever new thing they take,            at night when they met.

1408 They agreed to the covenants            before all the court;

1409 The beverage was brought            to seal the bargain then.

1410 Then they lovingly            took leave at the last;

1411 Each brave to his bed            bounded in haste.

1412 By the time the cock had crowed            and cackled but thrice,

1413 The lord had leaped from his bed,            and the liegemen each one;

1414 When the meal and the mass            were properly served,

1415 The company dashed to the wood,            ere any day sprang,

1416 To the chase;

1417 Hasting with hunters and horns;

1418 Through plains they race.

1419 Uncoupled among those thorns

1420 Hounds that rushed apace.

1402 And syþen by þe chymné in chamber þay seten,

1403 Wy?e? þe walle wyn we?ed to hem oft,

1404 And efte in her bourdyng þay bayþen in þe morn

1405 To fylle þe same forwarde? þat þay byfore maden:

1406 Wat chaunce so bytyde? hor cheuysaunce to chaunge,

1407 What nwe? so þay nome, at na?t quen þay metten.

1408 Þay acorded of þe couenaunte? byfore þe court alle;

1409 Þe beuerage wat? bro?t forth in bourde at þat tyme.

1410 Þenne þay louelych le?ten leue at þe last;

1411 Vche burne to his bedde busked bylyue.

1412 Bi þat þe coke hade crowen and cakled bot þryse,

1413 Þe lorde wat? lopen of his bedde, þe leude? vchone;

1414 So þat þe mete and þe masse wat? metely delyuered,

1415 Þe douthe dressed to þe wod, er any day sprenged,

1416 to chace;

1417 He? with hunte and horne?

1418 Þur? playne? þay passe in space.

1419 Vncoupled among þo þorne?

1420 Rache? þat ran on race.

1421 Soon they call of a quarry            found on a marsh’s side,

1422 The hunter urged on the hounds            that found it first;

1423 Wild words they shouted            with a loud noise;

1424 The hounds that heard it            hastened thither swiftly,

1425 And fell fast to the track,            forty at once;

1426 Then such a great barking and din            of gathered hounds

1427 Arose, that the rocky hills            rang all about;

1428 Hunters them heartened            with horn and with mouth.

1429 Then all in a solid pack            swiftly came together,

1430 Between a pool in that forest            and a forbidding crag;

1431 In a cluster by a cliff,            at the marsh’s side,

1432 Where the rough rock            in ruins was fallen,

1433 Hounds fared to the find,            and fighters them after;

1434 They searched around the rocky hill            and the summit as well,

1435 Warriors, while they knew well            within there it was.

1436 The best that there bayed            were with the bloodhounds.

1437 Then they beat on the bushes,            and bade him uprise,

1438 And he, disastrously, sought out            stalwarts in his path;

1439 The most splendid swine            swung out there,

1440 Long since from the herd            set apart for age,

1441 For he was brave,            biggest of all boars,

1442 Full grim when he growled;            then grieved many,

1443 For three at the first thrust            he threw to the earth,

1444 And sprang forth at good speed            despite his harms.

1445 These others hallowed “Hurry!” full high,            and “Hey! Hey!” cried,

1446 Had horns to mouth,            heartily sounded “recall”:

1447 Many were the merry sounds            of men and of hounds

1448 That bound after this boar            with boast and with noise

1449 Full fell.

1450 Full oft he bides at bay,

1451 And maims the pack pell-mell;

1452 He hurts some hounds, and they

1453 Full piteously yowl and yell.

1421 Sone þay calle of a quest in a ker syde,

1422 Þe hunt rehayted þe hounde? þat hit fyrst mynged;

1423 Wylde worde? hym warp wyth a wrast noyce;

1424 Þe hownde? þat hit herde hastid þider swyþe,

1425 And fellen as fast to þe fuyt, fourty at ones;

1426 Þenne such a glauer ande glam of gedered rachche?

1427 Ros, þat þe rochere? rungen aboute;

1428 Huntere? hem hardened with horne and wyth muthe.

1429 Þen al in a semblé sweyed togeder,

1430 Bitwene a flosche in þat fryth and a foo cragge;

1431 In a knot bi a clyffe, at þe kerre syde,

1432 Þer as þe rogh rocher vnrydely wat? fallen,

1433 Þay ferden to þe fyndyng, and freke? hem after;

1434 Þay vmbekesten þe knarre and þe knot boþe,

1435 Wy?e?, whyl þay wysten wel wythinne hem hit were.

1436 Þe best þat þer breued wat? wyth þe blodhounde?.

1437 Þenne þay beten on þe buske?, and bede hym vpryse,

1438 And he vnsoundyly out so?t segge? ouerþwert;

1439 On þe sellokest swyn swenged out þere,

1440 Long sythen fro þe sounder þat si?ed for olde,

1441 For he wat? breme, bor alþer-grattest,

1442 Ful grymme quen he gronyed; þenne greued mony,

1443 For þre at þe fyrst þrast he þry?t to þe erþe,

1444 And sparred forth good sped boute spyt more.

1445 Þise oþer halowed “Hyghe!” ful hy?e, and “Hay! Hay!” cryed,

1446 Haden horne? to mouþe, heterly rechated:

1447 Mony wat? þe myry mouthe of men and of hounde?

1448 Þat buskke? after þis bor with bost and wyth noyse

1449 to quelle.

1450 Ful oft he byde? þe baye,

1541 And mayme? þe mute inn melle;

1452 He hurte? of þe hounde?, and þay

1453 Ful ?omerly ?aule and ?elle.

1454 Chevaliers to shoot at him            shove forth then,

1455 Have at him with their arrows,            hit him oft;

1456 But the points that hit the shoulder            were blunted by its strength

1457 And none could bite into            the bristles of his brow;

1458 Though the sharpened shaft            shattered in pieces,

1459 The arrow-head rebounded            where-so-ever it hit.

1460 But when the hits him hurt            with their heavy strokes,

1461 Then, brain-mad for battle,            on braves he rushes,

1462 Hurts them full hatefully            where he forth hastens,

1463 And many feared there-at,            and drew back a little.

1464 But the lord on a lively horse            leaps him after,

1465 And the brave one, bold on the field,            his bugle he blows,

1466 He blew “recall,” and rode through            bushes full thick,

1467 Pursuing this wild swine            till the sun settled.

1468 All day with this same deed            they do in this way,

1469 While our lovely lad            lies in his bed,

1470 Gawain gracefully at home,            in garments full rich

1471 Of hue.

1472 The lady did not forget,

1473 To come to him for her due.

1474 Full early she him beset

1475 His mood for to subdue.

1454 Schalke? to schote at hym schowen to þenne,

1455 Haled to hym of her arewe?, hitten hym oft;

1456 Bot þe poynte? payred at þe pyth þat py?t in his schelde?,

1457 And þe barbe? of his browe bite non wolde;

1458 Þa? þe schauen schaft schyndered in pece?,

1459 Þe hede hypped a?ayn were-so-euer hit hitte.

1460 Bot quen þe dynte? hym dered of her dry?e stroke?,

1461 Þen, braynwod for bate, on burne? he rase?,

1462 Hurte? hem ful heterly þer he forth hy?e?,

1463 And mony ar?ed þerat, and on lyte dro?en.

1464 Bot þe lorde on a ly?t horce launces hym after,

1465 As burne bolde vpon bent his bugle he blowe?,

1466 He rechated, and rode þur? rone? ful þyk,

1467 Suande þis wylde swyn til þe sunne schafted.

1468 Þis day wyth þis ilk dede þay dryuen on þis wyse,

1469 Whyle oure luflych lede lys in his bedde,

1470 Gawayn grayþely at home, in gere? ful ryche

1471 of hewe.

1472 Þe lady no?t for?ate,

1473 Com to hym to salue.

1474 Ful erly ho wat? hym ate

1475 His mode for to remwe.

1476 She comes to the curtain,            and at the knight peeks.

1477 Sir Wawain her welcomed,            worthily speaking first,

1478 And she replies to him again            full eagerly in her words,

1479 Sits her softly by his side,            and sweetly she laughs,

1480 And with a lovely look            she laid on him these words:

1481 “Sir, if ye be Wawain,            it seems a wonder to me,

1482 A warrior that is so well disposed            always doing good,

1483 And can not of company            the customs understand,

1484 And if one teach you to know them,            ye cast them from your mind.

1485 Thou hast forgotten already            what yesterday I taught

1486 By the truest teaching            of talk that I know.”

1487 “What is that?” quoth the warrior,            “Indeed I knew never;

1488 If it be sooth that ye say,            the blame is mine own.”

1489 “Yet I taught you of kissing,”            quoth the glowing one then,

1490 “Where-ever favor is known            quickly to claim it;

1491 That becomes each knight            that courtesy uses.”

1492 “Do away,” quoth that doughty man,            “my dear, that speech,

1493 For that dare I not do,            lest I denied were;

1494 If I were refused, I would be wrong,            indeed, if I proffered.”

1495 “By my faith,” quoth the merry one,            “ye can not be denied,

1496 Ye are stout enough to constrain            with strength, if you like,

1497 If any were so churlish            that she would deny you.”

1498 “Yea, by God,” quoth Gawain,            “good is your speech,

1499 But threat does not thrive            in the country where I live,

1500 And each gift that is not given            with good will.

1501 I am at your commandment,            to kiss when you like,

1502 Ye may take one when you will,            and leave when you please,

1503 This place.”

1504 The lady leans down,

1505 And comely kisses his face,

1506 Much speech they there expound

1507 Of Love’s grief and grace.

1476 Ho commes to þe cortyn, and at þe kny?t totes.

1477 Sir Wawen her welcumed worþy on fyrst,

1478 And ho hym ?elde? a?ayn ful ?erne of hir worde?,

1479 Sette? hir softly by his syde, and swyþely ho la?e?,

1480 And wyth a luflych loke ho layde hym þyse worde?:

1481 “Sir, ?if ?e be Wawen, wonder me þynkke?,

1482 Wy?e þat is so wel wrast alway to god,

1483 And conne? not of compaynye þe coste? vndertake,

1484 And if mon kennes yow hom to knowe, ?e kest hom of your mynde.

1485 Þou hat? for?eten ?ederly þat ?isterday I ta?tte

1486 Bi alder-truest token of talk þat I cowþe.”

1487 “What is þat?” quoþ þe wy?e, “Iwysse I wot neuer;

1488 If hit be sothe þat ?e breue, þe blame is myn awen.”

1489 “?et I kende yow of kyssyng,” quoþ þe clere þenne,

1490 “Quere-so countenaunce is couþe quikly to clayme;

1491 Þat bicumes vche a kny?t þat cortaysy vses.”

1492 “Do way,” quoþ þat derf mon, “my dere, þat speche,

1493 For þat durst I not do, lest I deuayed were;

1494 If I were werned, I were wrang, iwysse, ?if I profered.”

1495 “Ma fay,” quoþ þe meré wyf, “?e may not be werned,

1496 ?e ar stif innoghe to constrayne wyth strenkþe, ?if yow lyke?,

1497 ?if any were so vilanous þat yow devaye wolde.”

1498 “?e, be God,” quoþ Gawayn, “good is your speche,

1499 Bot þrete is vnþryuande in þede þer I lende,

1500 And vche gift þat is geuen not with goud wylle.

1501 I am at your comaundement, to kysse quen yow lyke?,

1502 ?e may lach quen yow lyst, and leue quen yow þynkke?,

1503 in space.”

1504 Þe lady loute? adoun,

1505 And comlyly kysses his face,

1506 Much speche þay þer expoun

1507 Of druryes greme and grace.

1508 “I want to know from you, warrior,”            that worthy there said,[9]

1509 “If you would not be angry there-with,            what was the reason

1510 That so young and so youthful            as ye at this time,

1511 So courteous, so knightly,            as ye are known all around

1512 (And since of all chivalry to choose,            the chief thing praised

1513 Is the loyal game of love,            the literature of arms;

1514 To tell of the trials            of these true knights,

1515 Are written tales            and great tomes on their works,

1516 How lads for their loyal loves            their lives have endangered,

1517 Endured for their dear ones            doleful adventures,

1518 And after were avenged by their valor            and their care averted,

1519 And brought blissfully into bower            by their own brave deeds).

1520 And ye are knight most comely            known of your age;

1521 Your word and your worship            are widely known,

1522 And I have sat here by yourself            two separate times;

1523 Yet heard I never that your head            held any words

1524 That ever belonged to love,            less nor more;

1525 And ye, that are so courteous            and clever about promises,

1526 Ought to a young thing            yearn to show

1527 And teach some examples            of true love crafts.

1528 Why! are ye unlettered,            who all the lauds wields?

1529 Or else deem ye me too dull            your dalliance to heed?

1530 But stay!

1531 I come hither single, and sit

1532 To learn from you some play;

1533 Do, teach me of your wit,

1534 While my lord is away.”

1508 “I woled wyt at yow, wy?e,” þat worþy þer sayde,

1509 “And yow wrathed not þerwyth, what were þe skylle

1510 Þat so ?ong and so ?epe as ?e at þis tyme,

1511 So cortayse, so kny?tyly, as ?e ar knowen oute

1512 (And of alle cheualry to chose, þe chef þyng alosed

1513 Is þe lel layk of luf, þe lettrure of armes;

1514 For to telle of þis teuelyng of þis trwe kny?te?,

1515 Hit is þe tytelet token and tyxt of her werkke?,

1516 How ledes for her lele luf hor lyue? han auntered,

1517 Endured for her drury dulful stounde?,

1518 And after wenged with her walour and voyded her care,

1519 And bro?t blysse into boure with bountees hor awen)

1520 And ?e ar kny?t comlokest kyd of your elde;

1521 Your worde and your worchip walke? ayquere,

1522 And I haf seten by yourself here sere twyes;

1523 ?et herde I neuer of your hed helde no worde?

1524 Þat euer longed to luf, lasse ne more;

1525 And ?e, þat ar so cortays and coynt of your hetes,

1526 Oghe to a ?onke þynk ?ern to schewe

1527 And teche sum tokene? of trweluf craftes.

1528 Why! ar ?e lewed, þat alle þe los welde??

1529 Oþer elles ?e demen me to dille your dalyaunce to herken?

1530 for schame!

1531 I com hider sengel, and sitte

1532 To lerne at yow sum game;

1533 Dos, teche? me of your wytte,

1534 Whil my lorde is fro hame.”

1535 “In good faith,” quoth Gawain,            “God you reward!

1536 Great is the good glee,            and gladness to me huge,

1537 That so worthy as ye            would wend hither,

1538 And take pains for so poor a man,            and amuse your knight

1539 With any sort of attentions            recovers my ease;

1540 But to take the travail to myself            to expound true love,

1541 And tell the themes of texts            and tales of arms

1542 To you that, I know well,            wield more skill

1543 In that art, by the half,            or a hundred of such

1544 As I am, or ever shall be,            in earth where I live,

1545 It were a folly manifold, my fair,            by my troth.

1546 I would work your will            according to my power,

1547 As I am highly obligated,            and evermore will

1548 Be servant to yourself,            so save me Dear Lord!”

1549 Thus she tested that fair one,            and tempted him often,

1550 For to have won him to woe,            what-ever she thought else;

1551 But he defended him so fair            that no fault was seen,

1552 Nor of evil on either side,            naught did they know

1553 But bliss.

1554 They laughed and played for long;

1555 At the last she did him kiss.

1556 Her leave she did not prolong

1557 But went her way, with this.

1535 “In goud fayþe,” quoþ Gawayn, “God yow for?elde!

1536 Gret is þe gode gle, and gomen to me huge,

1537 Þat so worþy as ?e wolde wynne hidere,

1538 And pyne yow with so pouer a mon, as play wyth your kny?t

1539 With anyskynne? countenaunce, hit keuere? me ese;

1540 Bot to take þe toruayle to myself to trwluf expoun,

1541 And towche þe teme? of tyxt and tale? of arme?

1542 To yow þat, I wot wel, welde? more sly?t

1543 Of þat art, bi þe half, or a hundreth of seche

1544 As I am, oþer euer schal, in erde þer I leue,

1545 Hit were a folé felefolde, my fre, by my trawþe.

1546 I wolde yowre wylnyng worche at my my?t,

1547 As I am hy?ly bihalden, and euermore wylle

1548 Be seruaunt to yourseluen, so saue me Dry?tyn!”

1549 Þus hym frayned þat fre, and fondet hym ofte,

1550 For to haf wonnen hym to wo?e, what-so scho þo?t elle?;

1551 Bot he defended hym so fayr þat no faut semed,

1552 Ne non euel on nawþer halue, nawþer þay wysten

1553 bot blysse.

1554 Þay la?ed and layked longe;

1555 At þe last scho con hym kysse.

1556 Hir leue fayre con scho fonge

1557 And went hir waye, iwysse.

1558 Then the rider bestirs him            and rises to hear mass,

1559 And dinner was ready            and decorously served.

1560 The lad with the ladies            delighted himself all day,

1561 But the lord over the lands            galloped full oft,

1562 Pursues this fierce swine,            that swings by the banks

1563 And of the best of his hounds            bit the backs in two

1564 Where he abode at bay,            until bow-men broke it out,

1565 And forced him, despite his heed,            to move farther out,

1566 So many arrows there flew            when the folk gathered.

1567 Yet at times he made the strongest            to start back,

1568 Till at the last he was so tired            that he could no more run,

1569 But in such haste as he could            he wends to a hole

1570 Of a ledge by a rock            where runs the stream.

1571 He got the bank to his back,            begins to scrape the ground,

1572 The froth foamed at his mouth,            foul by its corners,

1573 Whets his white tusks;            with him then were angry

1574 All the braves so bold            that by him stood

1575 To annoy him from afar,            but nigh him none dared

1576 Approach;

1577 He had hurt so many before

1578 That all were then full loath

1579 To be more with his tusks tore,

1580 By one fierce and brain-mad both,

1558 Then ruþes hym þe renk and ryses to þe masse,

1559 And siþen hor diner wat? dy?t and derely serued.

1560 Þe lede with þe ladye? layked alle day,

1561 Bot þe lorde ouer þe londe? launced ful ofte,

1562 Swe? his vncely swyn, þat swynge? bi þe bonkke?

1563 And bote þe best of his brache? þe bakke? in sunder

1564 Þer he bode in his bay, tel bawemen hit breken,

1565 And madee hym mawgref his hed for to mwe vtter,

1566 So felle flone? þer flete when þe folk gedered.

1567 Bot ?et þe styffest to start bi stounde? he made,

1568 Til at þe last he wat? so mat he my?t no more renne,

1569 Bot in þe hast þat he my?t he to a hole wynne?

1570 Of a rasse bi a rokk þer renne? þe boerne.

1571 He gete þe bonk at his bak, bigyne? to scrape,

1572 Þe froþe femed at his mouth vnfayre bi þe wyke?,

1573 Whette? his whyte tusche?; with hym þen irked

1574 Alle þe burne? so bolde þat hym by stoden

1575 To nye hym onferum, bot ne?e hym non durst

1576 for woþe;

1577 He hade hurt so mony byforne

1578 Þat al þu?t þenne ful loþe

1579 Be more wyth his tusches torne,

1580 Þat breme wat? and braynwod bothe,

1581 Till the knight came himself,            spurring his bronc,

1582 Saw him abide at bay,            his braves beside;

1583 He lights lively adown,            leaves his courser,

1584 Brandishes a bright broadsword            and boldly strides forth,

1585 Rushes fast through the stream            where the fierce one abides.

1586 The beast was aware of the warrior            with weapon in hand,

1587 High bristled the hair,            so hatefully he snorted

1588 That many feared for the fighter,            lest befell to him the worse.

1589 The swine sets himself out,            straight at the stalwart,

1590 That the brave and the boar            were both in a heap

1591 In the wildest of the water;            the worse had that other,

1592 For the man marks him well,            as they met first,

1593 Set firmly the sword            straight in the throat-slot,

1594 Hit him up to the hilt,            that the heart sundered,

1595 And he, snarling, him yielded,            and went down in the water

1596 And sit.

1597 A hundred hounds at him went,

1598 That fiercely him bit,

1599 Braves to the open him sent,

1600 And dogs to death him commit.

1581 Til þe kny?t com hymself, kachande his blonk,

1582 Sy? hym byde at þe bay, his burne? bysyde;

1583 He ly?tes luflych adoun, leue? his corsour,

1584 Brayde? out a bry?t bront and bigly forth stryde?,

1585 Founde? fast þur? þe forth þer þe felle byde?.

1586 Þe wylde wat? war of þe wy?e with weppen in honde,

1587 Hef hy?ly þe here, so hetterly he fnast

1588 Þat fele ferde for þe freke, lest felle hym þe worre.

1589 Þe swyn sette? hym out on þe segge euen,

1590 Þat þe burne and þe bor were boþe vpon hepe?

1591 In þe wy?test of þe water; þe worre hade þat oþer,

1592 For þe mon merkke? hym wel, as þay mette fyrst,

1593 Set sadly þe scharp in þe slot euen,

1594 Hit hym vp to þe hult, þat þe hert schyndered,

1595 And he ?arrande hym ?elde, and ?edoun þe water

1596 ful tyt.

1597 A hundreth hounde? hym hent,

1598 Þat bremely con hym bite,

1599 Burne? him bro?t to bent,

1600 And dogge? to dethe endite.

1601 There was blowing of “taken”            in many brave horns,

1602 High hallooing on height            by horsemen that knew how;

1603 Hounds bayed their best,            as bade their masters

1604 Of that challenging chase            that were the chief hunters.

1605 Then a warrior            that was wise upon woodcraft

1606 To carve this boar            lovingly begins.

1607 First he hews off his head            and on high sets it,

1608 And next rips him all rough            by the spine after,

1609 Brings out the bowels,            burns them on coals,

1610 With bread blended there-with            to bestow on his hounds.

1611 Next he butchers out the brawn            in bright broad slabs,

1612 And has out the entrails,            as rightly befits;

1613 And next fastens all whole            the halves together,

1614 And then on a strong pole            stoutly them hangs.

1615 Now with this same swine            they swung toward home;

1616 The boar’s head was borne            before the brave himself

1617 That defeated him in the ford            through force of his hand,

1618 So strong.

1619 Till he saw Sir Gawain

1620 In hall he thought it full long;

1621 He called, and Gawain came again

1622 For the share that to him belongs.

1601 There wat? blawyng of “prys” in mony breme horne,

1602 He?e halowing on hi?e with haþele? þat my?t;

1603 Brachetes bayed þat best, as bidden þe maystere?

1604 Of þat chargeaunt chace þat were chef huntes.

1605 Þenne a wy?e þat wat? wys vpon wodcrafte?

1606 To vnlace þis bor lufly bigynne?.

1607 Fyrst he hewes of his hed and on hi?e sette?,

1608 And syþen rende? him al ro?e bi þe rygge after,

1609 Brayde? out þe boweles, brenne? hom on glede,

1610 With bred blent þerwith his braches rewarde?.

1611 Syþen he britne? out þe brawen in bry?t brode chelde?,

1612 And hat? out þe hastlette?, as hi?tly biseme?;

1613 And tet hem halche? al hole þe halue? togeder,

1614 And syþen on a stif stange stoutly hem henges.

1615 Now with þis ilk swyn þay swengen to home;

1616 Þe bores hed wat? borne before þe burnes seluen

1617 Þat him forferde in þe forþe þur? forse of his honde

1618   so stronge.

1619 Til he se? Sir Gawayne

1620 In halle hym þo?t ful longe;

1621 He calde, and he com gayn

1622 His fee? þer for to fonge.

1623 The lord full loud with speech            and laughter merry,

1624 When he saw Sir Gawain,            with pleasure he speaks;

1625 The good ladies were gotten,            and the courtiers gathered;

1626 He shows them the shoulders,            and shapes for them the tale

1627 Of the largeness and the length,            and the loathsomeness also

1628 Of the war with the wild swine            in wood where he fled.

1629 That other knight full comely commended his deeds,

1630 And praised it as great prowess            that he had proved,

1631 For such brawn of a beast,            the bold brave said,

1632 Nor such sides of a swine            saw he never ere.

1633 Then handled they the huge head;            the courtly one praised it,

1634 And let on he was jealous,            for the lord to hear.

1635 “Now, Gawain,” quoth the good man,            “this game is your own

1636 By fine covenant and firm,            faithfully ye know.”

1637 “It is sooth,” quoth the stalwart,            “and as surely true

1638 All I got I shall give you in turn,            by my troth.”

1639 He holds the horseman by the neck,            and honorably him kisses,

1640 And soon after of the same            he served him there.

1641 “Now are we even,” quoth the horseman,            “in this eventide

1642 Of all the covenants we knitted            since I came hither,

1643 By law.”

1644   The lord said, “By Saint Gile,

1645   Ye are the best that ever I saw!

1646   Ye will be rich in a while,

1647   If on such dealings ye draw.”

1623 Þe lorde ful lowde with lote and la?ter myry,

1624 When he se?e Sir Gawayn, with solace he speke?;

1625 Þe goude ladye? were geten, and gedered þe meyny;

1626 He schewe? hem þe schelde?, and schapes hem þe tale

1627 Of þe largesse and þe lenþe, þe liþerne? alse

1628 Of þe were of þe wylde swyn in wod þer he fled.

1629 Þat oþer kny?t ful comly comended his dede?,

1630 And praysed hit as gret prys þat he proued hade,

1631 For suche a brawne of a best, þe bolde burne sayde,

1632 Ne such sydes of a swyn segh he neuer are.

1633 Þenne hondeled þay þe hoge hed, þe hende mon hit praysed,

1634 And let lodly þerat þe lorde for to here.

1635 “Now, Gawayn,” quoþ þe godmon, “þis gomen is your awen

1636 Bi fyn forwarde and faste, faythely ?e knowe.”

1637 “Hit is sothe,” quoþ þe segge, “and as siker trwe

1638 Alle my get I schal yow gif agayn, bi my trawþe.”

1639 He hent þe haþel aboute þe halse, and hendely hym kysses,

1640 And eftersones of þe same he serued hym þere.

1641 “Now ar we euen,” quoþ þe haþel, “in þis euentide

1642 Of alle þe couenauntes þat we knyt, syþen I com hider,

1643 bi lawe.”

1644 Þe lorde sayde, “Bi Saynt Gile,

1645 ?e ar þe best þat I knowe!

1646 ?e ben ryche in a whyle,

1647 Such chaffer and ?e drowe.”

1648 Then they set up tables            on tops of trestles,

1649 Cast cloths upon them;            clear light then

1650 Awakened on the walls,            in wax torches;

1651 Stalwarts were seated and served            in the hall all about;

1652 Sounds of gladness and glee            go up there-in

1653 About the fire upon the floor,            and in many fine ways

1654 At the supper and after,            many elegant songs,

1655 As songs of Christmas            and carols new

1656 With all the mannerly mirth            that men may of tell,

1657 And ever our lovely knight            the lady beside.

1658 Such sweet looks to that stalwart            seemly she made

1659 With still, stolen gestures,            that stalwart to please,

1660 That all in wonder was the warrior,            and wroth with himself,

1661 But he would not, for his good manners,            merely deny her,

1662 But dealt with her all in delicacy,            how-so-ever the deed seemed

1663 At last.

1664 When they were amused in hall

1665 As long as their will held fast,

1666 To chamber he did him call,

1667 And to the chimney they passed.

1648 Þenne þay teldet table? trestes alofte,

1649 Kesten cloþen vpon; clere ly?t þenne

1650 Wakned bi wo?e?, waxen torches;

1651 Segge? sette and serued in sale al aboute;

1652 Much glam and gle glent vp þerinne

1653 Aboute þe fyre vpon flet, and on fele wyse

1654 At þe soper and after, mony aþel songe?,

1655 As coundutes of Krystmasse and carole? newe

1656 With al þe manerly merþe þat mon may of telle,

1657 And euer oure luflych kny?t þe lady bisyde.

1658 Such semblaunt to þat segge semly ho made

1659 Wyth stille stollen countenaunce, þat stalworth to plese,

1660 Þat al forwondered wat? þe wy?e, and wroth with hymseluen,

1661 Bot he nolde not for his nurture nurne hir a?ayne?,

1662 Bot dalt with hir al in daynté, how-se-euer þe dede turned

1663 towrast.

1664 Quen þay hade played in halle

1665 As longe as hor wylle hom last,

1666 To chambre he con hym calle,

1667 And to þe chemné þay past.

1668 And there they drank, and dallied,            and decided again

1669 To agree on the same conditions            for New Year’s Eve

1670 But the knight prayed leave            to depart on the morn,

1671 For it was nearly the time            that he should go.

1672 The lord prevented that,            to stay longer him constrained,

1673 And said, “As I am stalwart knight,            I stake my troth

1674 Thou shalt arrive at the Green Chapel            thy affairs to settle,

1675 Liegeman, on New Year’s first light,            long before prime.

1676 Therefore lie thou in thy loft            and take thine ease,

1677 And I shall hunt in this wood,            and hold the terms,

1678 Exchange with thee the profit            of what I acquire hither;

1679 For I have tested thee twice,            and truthful I find thee.

1680 Now ‘third time best throw.’            Think on the morn,

1681 Make we merry while we may            and be mindful of joy,

1682 For sorrow may one take            whenever one likes.”

1683 This was gracefully granted,            and Gawain is delayed;

1684 Blithely brought was drink,            and to bed they went

1685 With light.

1686 Sir Gawain lies and sleeps

1687 Full still and soft all night;

1688 The lord that his crafts keeps,

1689 Was ready at first daylight.

1668 Ande þer þay dronken, and dalten, and demed eft nwe

1669 To norne on þe same note on Nwe ?ere? euen

1670 Bot þe kny?t craued leue to kayre on þe morn,

1671 For hit wat? ne? at þe terme þat he to schulde.

1672 Þe lorde hym letted of þat, to lenge hym resteyed,

1673 And sayde, “As I am trwe segge, I siker my trawþe

1674 Þou schal cheue to þe Grene Chapel þy charres to make,

1675 Leude, on Nw ?ere?s ly?t, longe bifore pryme.

1676 Forþy þow lye in þy loft and lach þyn ese,

1677 And I schal hunt in þis holt, and halde þe towche?,

1678 Chaunge wyth þe cheuisaunce, bi þat I charre hider;

1679 For I haf fraysted þe twys, and faythful I fynde þe.

1680 Now ‘þrid tyme þrowe best.’ Þenk on þe morne,

1681 Make we mery quyl we may and mynne vpon joye,

1682 For þe lur may mon lach when-so mon lyke?.”

1683 Þis wat? grayþely graunted, and Gawayn is lenged;

1684 Bliþe bro?t wat? hym drynk, and þay to bedde ?eden

1685 with li?t.

1686 Sir Gawayn lis and slepes

1687 Ful stille and softe al ni?t;

1688 Þe lorde þat his crafte? kepes,

1689 Ful erly he wat? di?t.

1690 After mass a morsel            he and his men took;

1691 Merry was the morning;            his mount he asks.

1692 All the horsemen that on horse            hold the way him after

1693 Were ready, bestride their broncs,            before the hall gates.

1694 Wonderfully fair was the field,            for the frost clung;

1695 In red, ruddy upon clouds,            rises the sun,

1696 And full clear coasted the clouds            from the skies.

1697 Hunters unleashed hounds            by a high wood’s side,

1698 Rocks rang in the woods            from the roar of their horns;

1699 Some found the scent in the track            where the fox waited,

1700 And oft came upon it again            by the cunning of their wiles;

1701 A small hound cries there-of,            the huntsman on him calls;

1702 His fellows rush to him,            that panted full hard,

1703 Run forth in a rabble            on the right track,

1704 And the fox flees them before;            they found him soon,

1705 And when they saw him with sight            they pursued him fast,

1706 Denouncing him full wildly            with a wrathful noise;

1707 And he twists and turns            through many tough thickets,

1708 Doubles back, and hearkens            by hedges full oft.

1709 At the last by a little ditch            he leaps over a hedge,

1710 Steals out full stilently            beside a small wood,

1711 Thought he escaped from the wood            by wiles for the hounds;

1712 Then he went, ere he was aware,            to a well-made blind,

1713 Where three fierce hounds thrust forth            and threaten him at once,

1714 All gray.

1715 He bounded back from the strife

1716 And swiftly turned from the fray;

1717 With all the woe on life

1718 To the wood he went away.

1690 After messe a morsel he and his men token;

1691 Miry wat? þe mornyng, his mounture he askes.

1692 Alle þe haþeles þat on horse schulde helden hym after

1693 Were boun busked on hor blonkke? bifore þe halle ?ate?.

1694 Ferly fayre wat? þe folde, for þe forst clenged;

1695 In rede rudede vpon rak rises þe sunne,

1696 And ful clere coste? þe clowdes of þe welkyn.

1697 Hunteres vnhardeled bi a holt syde,

1698 Rocheres roungen bi rys for rurde of her hornes;

1699 Summe fel in þe fute þer þe fox bade,

1700 Trayle? ofte a traueres bi traunt of her wyles;

1701 A kenet kryes þerof, þe hunt on hym calles;

1702 His fela?es fallen hym to, þat fnasted ful þike,

1703 Runnen forth in a rabel in his ry?t fare,

1704 And he fyske? hem byfore; þay founden hym sone,

1705 And quen þay se?e hym with sy?t þay sued hym fast,

1706 Wre?ande hym ful weterly with a wroth noyse;

1707 And he trantes and tornayee? þur? mony tene greue,

1708 Hauiloune?, and herkene? bi hegge? ful ofte.

1709 At þe last bi a littel dich he lepe? ouer a spenne,

1710 Stele? out ful stilly bi a strothe rande,

1711 Went haf wylt of þe wode with wyle? fro þe houndes;

1712 Þenne wat? he went, er he wyst, to a wale tryster,

1713 Þer þre þro at a þrich þrat hym at ones,

1714 al graye.

1715 He blenched a?ayn bilyue

1716 And stifly start onstray,

1717 With alle þe wo on lyue

1718 To þe wod he went away.

1719 Then was it a pleasant life            to listen to the hounds,

1720 When all the pack had met him,            mingled together:

1721 Such a curse at that sight            they set on his head

1722 As if all the clustering cliffs had fallen,            clattered in heaps;

1723 Here he was hallooed,            when horsemen him met,

1724 Loud he was insulted            with snarling speech;

1725 There he was threatened            and often thief called,

1726 And always the hounds at his tail,            that he could not tarry;

1727 Often he was run at,            when he rushed out,

1728 And often ran back in again,            Reynard was so wily.

1729 And yea! He led them by trickery,            the lord and his court,

1730 In this manner by the mountains            all mid-afternoon,

1731 While the courtly knight at home            wholesomely sleeps

1732 Within the comely curtains,            on the cold morn.

1733 But the lady for love            did not let herself sleep,

1734 Nor the purpose to pall            that was placed in her heart,

1735 But rose her up rapidly,            hurried herself thither

1736 In a merry mantle,            reaching to the earth,

1737 That was lined full fine            with fur well trimmed,

1738 No good hues on her head            but the well wrought jewels,

1739 Traced about her coif            in clusters of twenty;

1740 Her fair face and her throat            flaunted all naked,

1741 Her breast bare before,            and behind also.

1742 She comes within the chamber door,            and closes it her after,

1743 Wide opens up a window,            and on the warrior calls,

1744 And right away thus rebuked him            with her rich words,

1745 And cheer:

1746 “Ah! Man, how can thou sleep?

1747 This morning is so clear.”

1748 He was in drowsing deep,

1749 But then he did her hear.

1719 Thenne wat? hit list vpon lif to lyþen þe hounde?,

1720 When alle þe mute hade hym met, menged togeder:

1721 Suche a sor?e at þat sy?t þay sette on his hede

1722 As alle þe clamberande clyffes hade clatered on hepes;

1723 Here he wat? halawed, when haþele? hym metten,

1724 Loude he wat? ?ayned with ?arande speche;

1725 Þer he wat? þreted and ofte þef called,

1726 And ay þe titleres at his tayl, þat tary he ne my?t;

1727 Ofte he wat? runnen at, when he out rayked,

1728 And ofte reled in a?ayn, so Reniarde wat? wylé.

1729 And ?e! He lad hem bi lagmon, þe lorde and his meyny,

1730 On þis maner bi þe mountes quyle myd-ouer-vnder,

1731 Whyle þe hende kny?t at home holsumly slepes

1732 Withinne þe comly cortynes, on þe colde morne.

1733 Bot þe lady for luf let not to slepe,

1734 Ne þe purpose to payre þat py?t in hir hert,

1735 Bot ros hir vp radly, rayked hir þeder

1736 In a mery mantyle, mete to þe erþe,

1737 Þat wat? furred ful fyne with felle? wel pured,

1738 No hwe? goud on hir hede bot þe ha?er stones

1739 Trased aboute hir tressour be twenty in clusteres;

1740 Hir þryuen face and hir þrote þrowen al naked,

1741 Hir brest bare bifore, and bihinde eke.

1742 Ho come? withinne þe chambre dore, and closes hit hir after,

1743 Wayue? vp a wyndow, and on þe wy?e calle?,

1744 And radly þus rehayted hym with hir riche wordes,

1745 with chere:

1746 “A! mon, how may þou slepe?

1747 Þis morning is so clere.”

1748 He wat? in drowping depe,

1749 Bot þenne he con hir here.

1750 In deep drowsing of dream            driveled that noble,

1751 As man that was in mourning            for many sad thoughts,

1752 How that destiny should that day            deal him his fate

1753 At the Green Chapel,            when he the gallant meets,

1754 And it behooves him his buffet            abide without debate more;

1755 But when that comely came            he recovered his wits,

1756 Swings out of the dreams,            and signs himself with haste.

1757 The lady lovingly came,            laughing sweetly,

1758 Bent over his fair face,            and fondly kissed him;

1759 He welcomes her worthily            with warm good cheer.

1760 He saw her so glorious            and gayly attired,

1761 So faultless of her features            and of such fine hues,

1762 Strong welling joy            warmed his heart.

1763 With smooth smiling and gentle            they settled into mirth,

1764 That all was bliss and happiness            between them enjoyed,

1765 And then.

1766 They chattered words good;

1767 Much joy then was there-in;

1768 Great peril between them stood,

1769 But Mary kept her knight from sin.

1750 In dre? droupyng of dreme draueled þat noble,

1751 As mon þat wat? in mornyng of mony þro þo?tes,

1752 How þat destiné schulde þat day dele hym his wyrde

1753 At þe Grene Chapel, when he þe gome metes,

1754 And bihoues his buffet abide withoute debate more;

1755 Bot quen þat comly com he keuered his wyttes,

1756 Swenges out of þe sweuenes, and sware? with hast.

1757 Þe lady luflych com la?ande swete,

1758 Felle ouer his fayre face, and fetly hym kyssed;

1759 He welcume? hir worþily with a wale chere.

1760 He se? hir so glorious and gayly atyred,

1761 So fautles of hir fetures and of so fyne hewes,

1762 Wi?t wallande joye warmed his hert.

1763 With smoþe smylyng and smolt þay smeten into merþe,

1764 Þat al wat? blis and bonchef þat breke hem bitwene,

1765 and wynne.

1766 Þay lanced wordes gode;

1767 Much wele þen wat? þerinne;

1768 Gret perile bitwene hem stod,

1769 Nif Maré hir kny?t mynne.

1770 For that princess of excellence            pressed him so hard,

1771 Pushed him so nigh the thread,            that by need him behooved

1772 Either take there her love,            or loathly refuse.

1773 He cared for his courtesy,            lest craven he were,

1774 And more for his mischief            if he should make sin,

1775 And be traitor to that knight            that owned that castle.

1776 “God be my shield,” quoth the champion,            “that shall not befall!”

1777 With love-laughing a little            he laid aside

1778 All speeches of affection            that sprang from her mouth.

1779 Quoth that lady to the brave,            “Blame ye deserve,

1780 If ye love not that life            that ye lie next,

1781 Before all the creatures            in the world wounded in heart,

1782 Unless ye have a lady, a lover,            that you like better,

1783 And have fixed your faith to that fine one,            fastened so hard

1784 That you do not wish to loosen            and that I now believe;

1785 And that ye tell me now            truly I pray you,

1786 For all the loves upon life            conceal not the truth

1787 For guile.”

1788 The knight said, “By Saint John,”

1789 And smoothly did he smile;

1790 “In faith, I have right none,

1791 Nor none will have this while.”

1770 For þat prynces of pris depresed hym so þikke,

1771 Nurned hym so ne?e þe þred, þat nede hym bihoued

1772 Oþer lach þer hir luf, oþer lodly refuse.

1773 He cared for his cortaysye, lest craþayn he were,

1774 And more for his meschef ?if he schulde make synne,

1775 And be traytor to þat tolke þat þat telde a?t.

1776 “God schylde,” quoþ þe schalk, “þat schal not befalle!”

1777 With luf-la?yng a lyt he layd hym bysyde

1778 Alle þe speche? of specialté þat sprange of her mouthe.

1779 Quoþ þat burde to þe burne, “Blame ?e disserue,

1780 ?if ?e luf not þat lyf þat ?e lye nexte,

1781 Bifore alle þe wy?e? in þe worlde wounded in hert,

1782 Bot if ?e haf a lemman, a leuer, þat yow lyke? better,

1783 And folden fayth to þat fre, festned so harde

1784 Þat yow lausen ne lyst and þat I leue nouþe;

1785 And þat ?e telle me þat now trwly I pray yow,

1786 For alle þe lufe? vpon lyue layne not þe soþe

1787 for gile.”

1788 Þe kny?t sayde, “Be Sayn Jon,”

1789 And smeþely con he smyle;

1790 “In fayth I welde ri?t non,

1791 Ne non wil welde þe quile.”

1792 “That is a word,” quoth that woman,            “that worst is of all;

1793 But I am answered for sooth;            that seems painful for me.

1794 Kiss me now, comely,            and I shall creep away,

1795 I may but mourn upon earth,            as maid that much loves.”

1796 Sighing she stooped down            and seemly him kissed,

1797 And then she steps away from him,            and says as she stands,

1798 “Now, dear, at this departing            do me this ease:

1799 Give me something as thy gift,            thy glove as it were,

1800 That I may remember thee, man,            my mourning to lessen.”

1801 “Now indeed,” quoth that warrior,            “I would I had here

1802 The dearest thing for thy love            that I in this land possess,

1803 For ye have deserved, for sooth,            awesomely often

1804 More reward by reason            than I could reckon;

1805 But to give you for love            what would avail but little.

1806 It is not to your honor            to have at this time

1807 A glove for a keepsake            of Gawain’s gifts,

1808 And I am here on an errand            in earth unknown,

1809 And have no men with no bags            of beautiful things;

1810 I mislike that, lady,            for love at this time;

1811 Each trooper must do as he is told;            take it not as evil

1812 Nor decline.”

1813 “Nay, courtier of high honors,”

1814 Quoth that lovely, fair and fine,

1815 “Though I have nothing of yours,

1816 Yet should ye have something of mine.”

1792 “Þat is a worde,” quoþ þat wy?t, “þat worst is of alle;

1793 Bot I am swared for soþe; þat sore me þinkke?.

1794 Kysse me now comly, and I schal cach heþen,

1795 I may bot mourne vpon molde, as may þat much louyes.”

1796 Sykande ho swe?e doun and semly hym kyssed,

1797 And siþen ho seueres hym fro, and says as ho stondes,

1798 “Now, dere, at þis departyng do me þis ese:

1799 Gif me sumquat of þy gifte, þi gloue if hit were,

1800 Þat I may mynne on þe, mon, my mournyng to lassen.”

1801 “Now iwysse,” quoþ þat wy?e, “I wolde I hade here

1802 Þe leuest þing for þy luf þat I in londe welde,

1803 For ?e haf deserued, for soþe, sellyly ofte

1804 More rewarde bi resoun þen I reche my?t;

1805 Bot to dele yow for drurye þat dawed bot neked.

1806 Hit is not your honour to haf at þis tyme

1807 A gloue for a garysoun of Gawayne? gifte?,

1808 And I am here an erande in erde? vncouþe,

1809 And haue no men wyth no male? with menskful þinge?;

1810 Þat mislyke? me, ladé, for luf at þis tyme;

1811 Iche tolke mon do as he is tan, tas to non ille

1812 ne pine.”

1813 “Nay, hende of hy?e honours,”

1814 Quoþ þat lufsum vnder lyne,

1815 “Þa? I hade no?t of youre?,

1816 ?et schulde ?e haue of myne.”

1817 She reached to him a rich ring            of red gold works,

1818 With a shining stone            standing aloft

1819 That bore blushing beams            like the bright sun;

1820 Know well it was worth            full huge wealth.

1821 But the rider refused it,            and readily he said,

1822 “I want no gifts, by God,            my gay, at this time;

1823 I have none you to offer,            and nothing will I take.”

1824 She offered it to him full earnestly,            and he her offer rejects,

1825 And swore swiftly by his sooth            that he would not possess it,

1826 And she sorrowed that he forsook,            and said there-after,

1827 “If ye refuse my ring,            for it seems too rich,

1828 For ye would not so highly            be beholden to me,

1829 I shall give you my girdle;            that profits you less.”

1830 She laid hold of a lace sash            wrapped lightly about her sides,

1831 Knotted upon her girdle            under the glowing mantle,

1832 Adorned it was with green silk            and with gold trimmed,

1833 Everything all around embroidered,            bedazzled by finger-work;

1834 And that she offered to the brave,            and blithely besought,

1835 Though it unworthy were,            that he would it take.

1836 And he said “nay”; he would not come nigh it            in any way,

1837 For neither gold nor treasure,            ere God him grace send

1838 To achieve the adventure            that he had chosen there.

1839 “And there-for, I pray you,            be not displeased,

1840 And lay aside your business,            for that bargain I will never

1841 It grant;

1842 I am deeply to you beholden

1843 For your kindness ever pleasant,

1844 And swear ever in hot or cold

1845 To be your true servant.”

1817 Ho ra?t hym a riche rynk of red golde werke?,

1818 Wyth a starande ston stondande alofte

1819 Þat bere blusschande beme? as þe bry?t sunne;

1820 Wyt ?e wel, hit wat? worth wele ful hoge.

1821 Bot þe renk hit renayed, and redyly he sayde,

1822 “I wil no gifte?, for Gode, my gay, at þis tyme;

1823 I haf none yow to norne, ne no?t wyl I take.”

1824 Ho bede hit hym ful bysily, and he hir bode wernes,

1825 And swere swyfte by his sothe þat he hit sese nolde,

1826 And ho soré þat he forsoke, and sayde þerafter,

1827 “If ?e renay my rynk, to ryche for hit seme?,

1828 ?e wolde not so hy?ly halden be to me,

1829 I schal gif yow my girdel, þat gaynes yow lasse.”

1830 Ho la?t a lace ly?tly þat leke vmbe hir syde?,

1831 Knit vpon hir kyrtel vnder þe clere mantyle,

1832 Gered hit wat? with grene sylke and with golde schaped,

1833 No?t bot arounde brayden, beten with fyngre?;

1834 And þat ho bede to þe burne, and blyþely biso?t,

1835 Þa? hit vnworþi were, þat he hit take wolde.

1836 And he nay þat he nolde neghe in no wyse

1837 Nauþer golde ne garysoun, er God hym grace sende

1838 To acheue to þe chaunce þat he hade chosen þere.

1839 “And þerfore, I pray yow, displese yow no?t,

1840 And lette? be your bisinesse, for I bayþe hit yow neuer

1841 to graunte;

1842 I am derely to yow biholde

1843 Bicause of your sembelaunt,

1844 And euer in hot and colde

1845 To be your trwe seruaunt.”

1846 “Now forsake ye this silk,”            said the sweet lady then,

1847 “For it is simple in itself?            And so it well seems.

1848 Lo! It is so little,            and less is it worth;

1849 But whosoever knew the qualities            that are knitted there-in,

1850 He would it appraise            at greater price, perchance:

1851 Whatever gallant is girt            with this green lace,

1852 So long as he has it            neatly fastened about,

1853 There is no horseman under heaven            to hew him that could,

1854 For he can not be slain            by any strategem upon earth.”

1855 Then considered the knight,            and it came to his heart

1856 It would be a jewel for the jeopardy            that was adjudged to him:

1857 When he arrived at the chapel            his fortune for to fetch,

1858 Might he slip away and be unslain,            the strategem would be noble.

1859 Then he was patient with her speech            and suffered her to speak,

1860 And she bore to him the belt            and brought it to him swiftly

1861 And he granted and she gave it            with a good will

1862 And besought him, for her sake,            discover it never,

1863 But loyally conceal it from her lord;            the liegeman agrees

1864 That never creature should it know,            indeed,   but those two

1865 For aught;

1866 He thanked her in speeches refined,

1867 Earnestly with heart and thought.

1868 By then, the third time,

1869 She has kissed the knight she caught.

1846 “Now forsake ?e þis silke,” sayde þe burde þenne,

1847 “For hit is symple in hitself? And so hit wel seme?.

1848 Lo! So hit is littel, and lasse hit is worþy;

1849 Bot who-so knew þe costes þat knit ar þerinne,

1850 He wolde hit prayse at more prys, parauenture:

1851 For quat gome so is gorde with þis grene lace,

1852 While he hit hade hemely halched aboute,

1853 Þer is no haþel vnder heuen tohewe hym þat my?t,

1854 For he my?t not be slayn for sly?t vpon erþe.”

1855 Þen kest þe kny?t and hit come to his hert

1856 Hit were a juel for þe jopardé þat hym iugged were:

1857 When he acheued to þe chapel his chek for to fech,

1858 My?t he haf slypped to be vnslayn, þe sle?t were noble.

1859 Þenne he þulged with hir þrepe and þoled hir to speke,

1860 And ho bere on hym þe belt and bede hit hym swyþe,

1861 And he granted and hym gafe with a goud wylle

1862 And biso?t hym, for hir sake, disceuer hit neuer,

1863 Bot to lelly layne fro hir lorde; þe leude hym acorde?

1864 Þat neuer wy?e schulde hit wyt, iwysse, bot þay twayne

1865 for no?te;

1866 He þonkked hir oft ful swyþe,

1867 Ful þro with hert and þo?t.

1868 Bi þat on þrynne syþe

1869 Ho hat? kyst þe kny?t so to?t.

1870 Then she takes her leave,            and leaves him there,

1871 For more mirth of that man            could she not get.

1872 When she was gone, Sir Gawain            readies himself soon,

1873 Rises and arrays him            in noble raiment,

1874 Stows away the love-sash            the lady him gave,

1875 Hid it full carefully,            where he could later find it.

1876 Then quickly to the chapel            chooses he the way,

1877 Privily approached a priest,            and prayed him there

1878 That he would listen to his life            and learn him better

1879 How his soul should be saved            when he set out hence.

1880 There he confessed him completely            and showed his misdeeds,

1881 Of the mortal and the lesser,            and mercy beseeches,

1882 And for absolution            he on the priest calls;

1883 And he absolved him surely            and set him as clean

1884 As if Doomsday had been destined            to dawn on the morn.

1885 And then he makes him as merry            among the fair ladies,

1886 With comely carols            and all kinds of joy,

1887 As never he did before that day,            to the dark night,

1888 With bliss.

1889 Each man had pleasure the more

1890 Of him, and said, “Sooth it is:

1891 Thus merry was he never before

1892 Since he came here, ere this.”

1870 Thenne lachche? ho hir leue, and leue? hym þere,

1871 For more myrþe of þat mon mo?t ho not gete.

1872 When ho wat? gon, Sir Gawayn gere? hym sone,

1873 Rises and riches hym in araye noble,

1874 Lays vp þe luf-lace þe lady hym ra?t,

1875 Hid hit ful holdely, þer he hit eft fonde.

1876 Syþen cheuely to þe chapel choses he þe waye,

1877 Preuély aproched to a prest, and prayed hym þere

1878 Þat he wolde lyste his lyf and lern hym better

1879 How his sawle schulde be saued when he schuld seye heþen.

1880 Þere he schrof hym schyrly and schewed his mysdede?,

1881 Of þe more and þe mynne, and merci beseche?,

1882 And of absolucioun he on þe segge calles;

1883 And he asoyled hym surely and sette hym so clene

1884 As Dome?day schulde haf ben di?t on þe morn.

1885 And syþen he mace hym as mery among þe fre ladyes,

1886 With comlych caroles and alle kynnes ioye,

1887 As neuer he did bot þat daye, to þe derk ny?t,

1888 with blys.

1889 Vche mon hade daynté þare

1890 Of hym, and sayde, “Iwysse,

1891 Þus myry he wat? neuer are,

1892 Syn he com hider, er þis.”

1893 Now let him linger in that place,            where pleasure him betides!

1894 Yet is the lord on the land            leading his gallants.

1895 He has killed this fox            that he followed long;

1896 As he sprang over a hedge            to espy the scamp,

1897 Where he heard the hounds            that hastened to him swiftly,

1898 Reynard came rushing            through a rough grove,

1899 And all the rabble in a rush            right at his heels.

1900 The warrior was aware of the wild,            and warily abides,

1901 And brandishes the bright broadsword,            and at the beast strikes.

1902 And he shuns the sharp,            and should have escaped;

1903 A hound rushes him to,            right ere he might go,

1904 And right before the horse’s feet            they fell on him all,

1905 And bit into this wily            with a wrathful noise.

1906 The lord alights quickly,            and lays hold of him soon,

1907 Snatched him full rapidly            out of the hounds’ mouths,

1908 Holds him high over his head,            halloos fast,

1909 And there bay at him            many brave hounds.

1910 Huntsman hurried them thither            with horns full many,

1911 Aye blowing “Taken!” rightly            till they the rider see.

1912 By that time was come            his company noble,

1913 All that ever bore bugle            blew at once,

1914 And all these other hallooed            that had no horns;

1915 It was the happiest pack of hounds            that ever men heard,

1916 The rich roar that there was raised            for Reynard’s soul

1917 From throats.

1918 Their hounds they there reward;

1919 Their heads they fondle and dote;

1920 And then they take Reynard,

1921 And tear off his coat.

1893 Now hym lenge in þat lee, þer luf hym bityde!

1894 ?et is þe lorde on þe launde ledande his gomnes.

1895 He hat? forfaren þis fox þat he fol?ed longe;

1896 As he sprent ouer a spenne to spye þe schrewe,

1897 Þer as he herd þe howndes þat hasted hym swyþe,

1898 Renaud com richchande þur? a ro?e greue,

1899 And alle þe rabel in a res ry?t at his hele?.

1900 Þe wy?e wat? war of þe wylde, and warly abides,

1901 And brayde? out þe bry?t bronde, and at þe best caste?.

1902 And he schunt for þe scharp, and schulde haf arered;

1903 A rach rapes hym to, ry?t er he my?t,

1904 And ry?t bifore þe hors fete þay fel on hym alle,

1905 And woried me þis wyly wyth a wroth noyse.

1906 Þe lorde ly?te? bilyue, and lache? hym sone,

1907 Rased hym ful radly out of þe rach mouþes,

1908 Halde? he?e ouer his hede, halowe? faste,

1909 And þer bayen hym mony braþ hounde?.

1910 Huntes hy?ed hem þeder with horne? ful mony,

1911 Ay rechatande ary?t til þay þe renk se?en.

1912 Bi þat wat? comen his compeyny noble,

1913 Alle þat euer ber bugle blowed at ones,

1914 And alle þise oþer halowed þat hade no hornes;

1915 Hit wat? þe myriest mute þat euer men herde,

1916 Þe rich rurd þat þer wat? raysed for Renaude saule

1917 with lote.

1918 Hor hounde? þay þer rewarde;

1919 Her hede? þay fawne and frote;

1920 And syþen þay tan Reynarde,

1921 And tyruen of his cote.

1922 And then they headed home,            for it was nigh night,

1923 Sounding full stoutly            in their strong horns.

1924 The lord is alighted at last            at his beloved home,

1925 Finds fire upon floor,            the fighter there-beside,

1926 Sir Gawain the good,            that glad was withal,

1927 Among the ladies for love            he led much joy;

1928 He bore a mantle of blue            that brushed the earth,

1929 His surcoat became him well            that softly was furred,

1930 And his hood of that same            hanged on his shoulder,

1931 Bedecked all of ermine            were both all about.

1932 He meets this house-holder            in the middle of the floor,

1933 And all with gladness he him greeted,            and goodly he said,

1934 “Now I shall first            fulfill our agreement,

1935 That we speedily spoke,            where spared was no drink.”

1936 Then embraces he the knight            and kisses him thrice,

1937 As sweetly and seriously            as he knew how to set them.

1938 “By Christ,” quoth that other knight,            “ye catch much happiness

1939 In your profits in this business,            if ye got a good price.”

1940 “Yea, of the price no bother,”            quoth promptly that other,

1941 “Since the prices that I owed            are fully paid.”

1942 “Mary,” quoth that other man,            “my account is behind,

1943 For I have hunted all this day,            and naught have I got

1944 But this foul fox fur            —the fiend have the profits!—

1945 And that is full poor for to pay            for such prized things

1946 As ye have pressed on me here earnestly,            such three kisses

1947 So good.”

1948 “Enough,” quoth Sir Gawain,

1949 “I thank you, by the rood,”

1950 And how the fox was slain

1951 He told him as they stood.

1922 And þenne þay helden to home, for hit wat? ni? ny?t,

1923 Strakande ful stoutly in hor store horne?.

1924 Þe lorde is ly?t at þe laste at hys lef home,

1925 Fynde? fire vpon flet, þe freke þer-byside,

1926 Sir Gawayn þe gode, þat glad wat? withalle,

1927 Among þe ladies for luf he ladde much ioye;

1928 He were a bleaunt of blwe þat bradde to þe erþe,

1929 His surkot semed hym wel þat softe wat? forred,

1930 And his hode of þat ilke henged on his schulder,

1931 Blande al of blaunner were boþe al aboute.

1932 He mete? me þis godmon inmydde? þe flore,

1933 And al with gomen he hym gret, and goudly he sayde,

1934 “I schal fylle vpon fyrst oure forwarde? nouþe,

1935 Þat we spedly han spoken, þer spared wat? no drynk.”

1936 Þen acoles he þe kny?t and kysses hym þryes,

1937 As sauerly and sadly as he hem sette couþe.

1938 “Bi Kryst,” quoþ þat oþer kny?t, “?e cach much sele

1939 In cheuisaunce of þis chaffer, ?if ?e hade goud chepe?.”

1940 “?e, of þe chepe no charg,” quoþ chefly þat oþer,

1941 As is pertly payed þe chepe? þat I a?te.”

1942 “Mary,” quoþ þat oþer mon, “myn is bihynde,

1943 For I haf hunted al þis day, and no?t haf I geten

1944 Bot þis foule fox felle — þe fende haf þe gode?! —

1945 And þat is ful pore for to pay for suche prys þinges

1946 As ?e haf þry?t me here þro, suche þre cosses

1947 so gode.”

1948 “Ino?,” quoþ Sir Gawayn,

1949 “I þonk yow, bi þe rode,”

1950 And how þe fox wat? slayn

1951 He tolde hym as þay stode.

1952 With mirth and minstrelsy,            with meals when they wanted,

1953 They made as merry            as any men could

1954 With laughing of ladies,            with light wit and jests.

1955 Gawain and the good man            so glad were they both

1956 As if the court had gone crazy,            or was drunk.

1957 Both the man and the courtiers            made many jokes,

1958 Till the season was seen            that they must separate;

1959 Braves to their beds            it behooved at the last.

1960 Then humbly his leave            from the lord first

1961 Fetches this fine man,            and fair he him thanks:

1962 “For such a splendid sojourn            as I have had here,

1963 Your honor to me at this high feast,            the High King you reward!

1964 I give you me to be your servant,            if yourself it pleases,

1965 For I must by necessity, as ye know,            leave in the morn,

1966 If ye me give some trooper to teach me,            as ye promised,

1967 The way to the Green Chapel,            if God will allow me

1968 To do on New Year’s day            the decree of my fate.”

1969 “In good faith,” quoth the good man,            “with a good will

1970 All that ever I promised you            I shall readily hold.”

1971 There he assigns him a servant            to set him in the way,

1972 And conduct him by the downs,            that he no trouble have,

1973 For to travel through the forest            and fare the most direct way

1974 To achieve.

1975 Gawain the lord did thank

1976 (Much worship there-in he did weave),

1977 Then from those ladies of rank

1978 The knight has taken his leave.

1952 With merþe and mynstralsye, with mete? at hor wylle,

1953 Þay maden as mery as any men mo?ten,

1954 With la?yne of ladies, with lote? of bordes.

1955 Gawayn and þe godemon so glad were þay boþe

1956 Bot if þe douthe had doted, oþer dronken ben oþer.

1957 Boþe þe mon and þe meyny maden mony iape?,

1958 Til þe sesoun wat? se?en þat þay seuer moste;

1959 Burne? to hor bedde behoued at þe laste.

1960 Þenne lo?ly his leue at þe lorde fyrst

1961 Fochche? þis fre mon, and fayre he hym þonkke?:

1962 “Of such a selly soiorne as I haf hade here,

1963 Your honour at þis hy?e fest, þe Hy?e Kyng yow ?elde!

1964 I ?ef yow me for on of youre?, if yowreself lyke?,

1965 For I mot nedes, as ?e wot, meue to-morne,

1966 And ?e me take sum tolke to teche, as ?e hy?t,

1967 Þe gate to þe Grene Chapel, as God wyl me suffer

1968 To dele on Nw ?ere? day þe dome of my wyrdes.”

1969 “In god fayþe,” quoþ þe godmon, “wyth a goud wylle

1970 Al þat euer I yow hy?t halde schal I redé.”

1971 Þer asyngnes he a seruaunt to sett hym in þe waye,

1972 And coundue hym by þe downe?, þat he no drechch had,

1973 For to ferk þur? þe fryth and fare at þe gaynest

1974 bi greue.

1975 Þe lorde Gawayn con þonk,

1976 (Such worchip he wolde hym weue),

1977 Þen at þo ladye? wlonk

1978 Þe kny?t hat? tan his leue.

1979 With sorrow and with kissing            he converses with them,

1980 And full many hearty thanks            he urged them to have,

1981 And they yield him in turn            eagerly the same;

1982 They commend him to Christ            with full cold sighs.

1983 Then from the court            he courteously departs;

1984 Each man that he met,            he gave him a thank

1985 For his service, his amusement,            and his special pains,

1986 That they had been busy with            to serve about him;

1987 And each stalwart as sorry            to separate from him there

1988 As if they had dwelt worthily            with that noble forever.

1989 Then by lads and light            he was led to his chamber

1990 And blithely brought to his bed            to be at his rest.

1991 If he slept soundly            I dare not say,

1992 For he had much on the morn to muse upon,            if he would,

1993 In thought.

1994 Let him lie there still,

1995 He has nearly what he sought;

1996 And if ye will a while be still

1997 I shall tell you how they wrought.

1979 With care and wyth kyssyng he carppe? hem tille,

1980 And fele þryuande þonkke? he þrat hom to haue,

1981 And þay ?elden hym a?ayn ?eply þat ilk;

1982 Þay bikende hym to Kryst with ful colde sykynge?.

1983 Syþen fro þe meyny he menskly departes;

1984 Vche mon þat he mette, he made hem a þonke

1985 For his seruyse and his solace and his sere pyne,

1986 Þat þay wyth busynes had ben aboute hym to serue;

1987 And vche segge as soré to seuer with hym þere

1988 As þay hade wonde worþyly with þat wlonk euer.

1989 Þen with ledes and ly?t he wat? ladde to his chambre

1990 And blyþely bro?t to his bedde to be at his rest.

1991 ?if he ne slepe soundyly say ne dar I,

1992 For he hade muche on þe morn to mynne, ?if he wolde,

1993 in þo?t.

1994 Let hym ly?e þere stille,

1995 He hat? nere þat he so?t;

1996 And ?e wyl a whyle be stylle

1997 I schal telle yow how þay wro?t.

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

IV

1998 Now nighs the New Year,            and the night passes,

1999 The day drives out the dark,            as the Dear Lord commands;

2000 But wild weathers of the world            awakened outside,

2001 Clouds cast keenly            the cold to the earth,

2002 With well enough of the north wind,            naked flesh to torment;

2003 The snow shivered full sharply            and snapped at wild beasts.

2004 The warbling wind whipped            down from the heights

2005 And drove each dale            full of drifts full great.

2006 The liegeman listened right well            who lay in his bed;

2007 Though he locks his lids,            very little he sleeps;

2008 By each cock that crowed            he knew well the hour.

2009 Directly he was up and dressed,            ere the day sprang,

2010 For there was light of a lamp            that illumined his chamber;

2011 He called to his servant,            who quickly him answered,

2012 And bade him bring his armor            and saddle his bronc;

2013 That other hurries fast            and fetches him his garments,

2014 And gets Sir Gawain ready            in a goodly manner.

2015 First he clad him in his clothes            the cold to ward off,

2016 And then his other harness,            that honorably was kept,

2017 His paunch-armor and his plates,            polished full bright,

2018 The rings rubbed clean of the rust            from his rich mail;

2019 And all fresh as when first new,            and he now fit

2020 To proceed.

2021 He put on every piece,

2022 With care and speed,

2023 The gayest from here to Greece;

2024 The brave bade bring his steed.

Sir Gawayn and þe Grene Knyght

IV

1998 Now ne?e? þe Nw ?ere, and þe ny?t passe?,

1999 Þe day dryue? to þe derk, as Dry?tyn bidde?;

2000 Bot wylde wedere? of þe worlde wakned þeroute,

2001 Clowdes kesten kenly þe colde to þe erþe,

2002 Wyth ny?e innoghe of þe norþe, þe naked to tene;

2003 Þe snawe snitered ful snart, þat snayped þe wylde.

2004 Þe werbelande wynde wapped fro þe hy?e,

2005 And drof vche dale ful of dryftes ful grete.

2006 Þe leude lystened ful wel þat le? in his bedde;

2007 Þa? he lowke? his lidde?, ful lyttel he slepes;

2008 Bi vch kok þat crue he knwe wel þe steuen.

2009 Deliuerly he dressed vp, er þe day sprenged,

2010 For þere wat? ly?t of a laumpe þat lemed in his chambre;

2011 He called to his chamberlayn, þat cofly hym swared,

2012 And bede hym bryng hym his bruny and his blonk sadel;

2013 Þat oþer ferke? hym vp and feche? hym his wede?,

2014 And grayþe? me Sir Gawayn vpon a grett wyse.

2015 Fyrst he clad hym in his cloþe? þe colde for to were,

2016 And syþen his oþer harnays, þat holdely wat? keped,

2017 Boþe his paunce and his plate?, piked ful clene,

2018 Þe rynge? rokked of þe roust of his riche bruny;

2019 And al wat? fresch as vpon fyrst, and he wat? fayn þenne

2020 to þonk;

2021 He hade vpon vche pece,

2022 Wypped ful wel and wlonk;

2023 Þe gayest into Grece,

2024 Þe burne bede bryng his blonk.

2025 Meanwhile in the most worthy weeds            he wrapped himself:

2026 His coat with the heraldic arms            in the clever works

2027 Adorning the velvet,            very powerful jewels

2028 About stitched and sewn,            embroidered seams,

2029 And fair furred inside            with fine pelts.

2030 Yet left he not the lace,            the lady’s gift;

2031 That forgot not Gawain            for good of himself.

2032 When he had belted the broadsword            upon his brawny haunches,

2033 Then he draped his love-token            double him about,

2034 Swiftly swaddled round his waist            sweetly that knight

2035 The girdle of green silk;            well befitted that gay

2036 Upon that royal red cloth            that rich was to see.

2037 But this same warrior wore not            this girdle for its wealth,

2038 For pride of the pendants,            though polished they were,

2039 And though the glittering gold            gleamed on the ends,

2040 But for to save himself,            when to suffer it him behooved,

2041 To battle without broadsword            himself to defend,

2042 Nor knife.

2043 By then the bold was bound

2044 Quickly unto strife,

2045 And to that whole court of renown

2046 Gives thanks to all on life.

2025 Whyle þe wlonkest wedes he warp on hymseluen:

2026 His cote wyth þe conysaunce of þe clere werke?

2027 Ennurned vpon veluet, vertuus stone?

2028 Aboute beten and bounden, enbrauded seme?,

2029 And fayre furred withinne wyth fayre pelures.

2030 ?et laft he not þe lace, þe ladie? gifte;

2031 Þat forgat not Gawayn for gode of hymseluen.

2032 Bi he hade belted þe bronde vpon his bal?e haunche?,

2033 Þenn dressed he his drurye double hym aboute,

2034 Swyþe sweþled vmbe his swange swetely þat kny?t

2035 Þe gordel of þe grene silke; þat gay wel bisemed

2036 Vpon þat ryol red cloþe þat ryche wat? to schewe.

2037 Bot wered not þis ilk wy?e for wele þis gordel,

2038 For pryde of þe pendaunte?, þa? polyst þay were,

2039 And þa? þe glyterande golde glent vpon ende?,

2040 Bot for to sauen hymself, when suffer hym byhoued,

2041 To byde bale withoute dabate of bronde hym to were

2042 oþer knyffe.

2043 Bi þat þe bolde mon boun

2044 Wynne? þeroute bilyue,

2045 Alle þe meyny of renoun

2046 He þonkke? ofte ful ryue.

2047 Then was Gringolet ready,            that great was and huge,

2048 And had been stabled to his liking            and well cared for;

2049 He wanted the prick of the spur,            that proud horse then.

2050 The warrior wends him to            and examines his hide,

2051 And said soberly to himself            and by his sooth swears:

2052 “There are courtiers in this castle            that care for noble customs:

2053 The man that maintains them,            joy may he have;

2054 And his dear lady on life—            may love her betide;

2055 Since they for charity            cherish a guest,

2056 And hold honor in their hand,            may the High God reward them,

2057 He that holds the heaven on high,            and also you all!

2058 And if I might life upon land            lead any longer,

2059 I should render you some reward            readily, if I could.”

2060 Then steps he into stirrup            and strides aloft;

2061 His servant showed him his shield,            on shoulder he it laid,

2062 Gives spur to Gringolet            with his gilt heels,

2063 And he starts on the stone,            stood he no longer,

2064 To prance.

2065 The hero on horse was then,

2066 That bore his spear and lance.

2067 “This castle to Christ I commend.

2068 May He give it always good chance.”

2047 Thenne wat? Gryngolet grayþe, þat gret wat? and huge,

2048 And hade ben soiourned sauerly and in a siker wyse;

2049 Hym lyst prik for poynt, þat proude hors þenne.

2050 Þe wy?e wynne? hym to and wyte? on his lyre,

2051 And sayde soberly hymself and by his soth swere?:

2052 “Here is a meyny in þis mote þat on menske þenkke?:

2053 Þe mon hem maynteines, ioy mot þay haue;

2054 Þe leue lady on lyue — luf hir bityde;

2055 ?if þay for charyté cherysen a gest,

2056 And halden honour in her honde, þe Haþel hem ?elde

2057 Þat halde? þe heuen vpon hy?e, and also yow alle!

2058 And ?if I my?t lyf vpon londe lede any quyle,

2059 I schuld rech yow sum rewarde redyly, if I my?t.”

2060 Þenn steppe? he into stirop and stryde? alofte;

2061 His schalk schewed hym his schelde, on schulder he hit la?t,

2062 Gorde? to Gryngolet with his gilt hele?,

2063 And he starte? on þe ston, stod he no lenger

2064 to praunce.

2065 His haþel on hors wat? þenne,

2066 Þat bere his spere and launce.

2067 “Þis kastel to Kryst I kenne:

2068 He gef hit ay god chaunce.”

2069 The bridge was brought down,            and the broad gates

2070 Unbarred and borne open            upon both sides.

2071 The brave blessed himself quickly,            the broad planks crossed,

2072 Praises the porter            that before the prince kneeled—

2073 Gave him God and good day,            that Gawain he save—

2074 And went on his way            with his one warrior,

2075 That should teach him to turn            to that terrible place

2076 Where the rueful blow            he had to receive.

2077 They bound by banks            where boughs are bare,

2078 They climb by cliffs            where clings the cold.

2079 The heaven was up high,            but ugly there-under;

2080 Mist drizzled on the moor,            melted on the mountains;

2081 Each hill had a hat,            a huge mantle of mist;

2082 Brooks boiled and broke            by banks about,

2083 Brightly shattering on shores,            where they shot down.

2084 Well wild was the way            where they went by wood.

2085 It was soon the season            that the sun rises

2086 At that tide.

2087 They were on a hill full high,

2088 White snow lay them beside;

2089 The brave that rode him by

2090 Then bade his master abide.

2069 The brygge wat? brayde doun, and þe brode ?ate?

2070 Vnbarred and born open vpon boþe halue.

2071 Þe burne blessed hym bilyue, and þe brede? passed,

2072 Prayses þe porter bifore þe prynce kneled —

2073 Gef hym God and goud day, þat Gawayn he saue —

2074 And went on his way with his wy?e one,

2075 Þat schulde teche hym to tourne to þat tene place

2076 Þer þe ruful race he schulde resayue.

2077 Þay bo?en bi bonkke? þer bo?e? ar bare,

2078 Þay clomben bi clyffe? þer clenge? þe colde.

2079 Þe heuen wat? vphalt, bot vgly þer-vnder;

2080 Mist muged on þe mor, malt on þe mounte?;

2081 Vch hille hade a hatte, a myst-hakel huge;

2082 Broke? byled and breke bi bonkke? aboute,

2083 Schyre schaterande on schore? þer þay doun schowued.

2084 Wela wylle wat? þe way þer þay bi wod schulden,

2085 Til hit wat? sone sesoun þat þe sunne ryses

2086 þat tyde.

2087 Þay were on a hille ful hy?e

2088 Þe quyte snaw lay bisyde;

2089 Þe burne þat rod hym by

2090 Bede his mayster abide.

2091 “For I have won your way hither,            warrior, at this time,

2092 And now are ye not far            from that noted place

2093 That ye have spied about and sought            with such special care;

2094 But I shall say you truly,            since well I know you,

2095 And ye are a lad upon life            that I well love,

2096 Would ye work by my wit,            ye would be the better.

2097 The place that ye press to            full perilous is held;

2098 There dwells a warrior in that wasteland,            the worst upon earth,

2099 For he is stout and stern,            and loves to strike,

2100 And mightier is he than any man            upon middle-earth,

2101 And his body bigger            than the best four

2102 That are in Arthur’s house,            Hector or other.

2103 He keeps the custom            at the Green Chapel:

2104 There passes none by that place            so proud in his arms

2105 That he does not deal him death            by dint of his hand;

2106 For he is a man without measure,            and no mercy uses,

2107 For be it churl or chaplain            that by the chapel rides,

2108 Monk or mass-priest,            or any man else,

2109 He thinks it as good to kill him            as for himself to live.

2110 Therefore I say this,            as surely as ye in saddle sit,

2111 Come ye there, ye be killed,            if that knight has his way;

2112 Trust ye me truly;            though ye had twenty lives

2113 To spend.

2114 He has dwelt here since full yore;

2115 On earth many met their end

2116 Against him battling full sore;

2117 Ye cannot you defend.

2091 “For I haf wonnen yow hider, wy?e, at þis tyme,

2092 And now nar ?e not fer fro þat note place

2093 Þat ?e han spied and spuryed so specially after;

2094 Bot I schal say yow for soþe, syþen I yow knowe,

2095 And ?e ar a lede vpon lyue þat I wel louy,

2096 Wolde ?e worch bi my wytte, ?e worþed þe better.

2097 Þe place þat ?e prece to ful perelous is halden;

2098 Þer wone? a wy?e in þat waste, þe worst vpon erþe,

2099 For he is stiffe and sturne, and to strike louies,

2100 And more he is þen any mon vpon myddelerde,

2101 And his body bigger þen þe best fowre

2102 Þat ar in Arþure? hous, Hestor, oþer oþer.

2103 He cheue? þat chaunce at þe Chapel Grene:

2104 Þer passes non bi þat place so proude in his armes

2105 Þat he ne dynge? hym to deþe with dynt of his honde;

2106 For he is a mon methles, and mercy non vses,

2107 For be hit chorle oþer chaplayn þat bi þe chapel rydes,

2108 Monk oþer masseprest, oþer any mon elles,

2109 Hym þynk as queme hym to quelle as quyk go hymseluen.

2110 Forþy I say þe, as soþe as ?e in sadel sitte,

2111 Com ?e þere, ?e be kylled, may þe kny?t rede;

2112 Trawe ?e me þat trwely: þa? ?e had twenty lyues

2113 to spende.

2114 He hat? wonyd here ful ?ore;

2115 On bent much baret bende,

2116 A?ayn his dynte? sore

2117 ?e may not yow defende.

2118 “Therefore, good Sir Gawain,            let that gallant alone,

2119 And go away some other way,            by God’s wounds!

2120 Cross some other country,            where Christ may you help,

2121 And I shall hasten me home again,            and assure you honestly

2122 That I shall swear by God            and all his goodly saints,

2123 As help me God, and the holy relics,            and many good oaths,

2124 That I shall loyally lie for you,            and relate never a tale

2125 That ever ye fled for fear            from fighter that I knew.”

2126 “Great thanks,” quoth Gawain,            and grudgingly he said:

2127 “Well may thou prosper, warrior,            who wishes me good,

2128 And loyally to lie for me            I believe well thou wouldest.

2129 But held thou it never so hidden,            and I here slipped away,

2130 Fared for fear to flee,            in form that thou tell,

2131 I would be a knight coward;            I could not be excused.

2132 But I will go to the chapel,            whatever chance may befall,

2133 And talk with that same knight            of whatever tale I want,

2134 Be it weal or woe,            however fate will

2135 Behave.

2136 Though he be stern in fray,

2137 With a club to daunt the brave,

2138 The dear Lord can find a way

2139 His servants for to save.”

2118 “Forþy, goude Sir Gawayn, let þe gome one,

2119 And got? away sum oþer gate, vpon Godde? halue!

2120 Cayre? bi sum oþer kyth, þer Kryst mot yow spede,

2121 And I schal hy? me hom a?ayn, and hete yow fyrre

2122 Þat I schal swere bi God and alle his gode hal?e?,

2123 As help me God and þe halydam, and oþe? innoghe,

2124 Þat I schal lelly yow layne, and lance neuer tale

2125 Þat euer ?e fondet to fle for freke þat I wyst.”

2126 “Grant merci,” quoþ Gawayn, and gruchyng he sayde:

2127 “Wel worth þe, wy?e, þat wolde? my gode,

2128 And þat lelly me layne I leue wel þou wolde?.

2129 Bot helde þou hit neuer so holde, and I here passed,

2130 Founded for ferde for to fle, in fourme þat þou telle?,

2131 I were a kny?t kowarde; I my?t not be excused.

2132 Bot I wyl to þe chapel, for chaunce þat may falle,

2133 And talk wyth þat ilk tulk þe tale þat me lyste,

2134 Worþe hit wele oþer wo, as þe wyrde lyke?

2135 hit hafe.

2136 Þa?e he be a sturn knape

2137 To sti?tel, and stad with staue,

2138 Ful wel con Dry?tyn schape

2139 His seruaunte? for to saue.”

2140 “Mary!” quoth that other man,            “now thou so much speakest,

2141 That thou wilt thine own bane            bring on thyself,

2142 If thou want to lose thy life,            I look not to prevent thee.

2143 Have here thy helmet on thy head,            thy spear in thy hand,

2144 And ride thee down this same road            by yon rocky side,

2145 Till thou be brought to the bottom            of the broad valley;

2146 Then look a little at the open land,            on thy left hand,

2147 And thou shalt see in that glade            that same chapel,

2148 And the one brave in battle            that there thee bides.

2149 Now farewell, by God’s wounds,            Gawain the noble!

2150 For all the gold upon ground            I would not go with thee,

2151 Nor bear thee fellowship through this forest            one foot further.”

2152 With that the warrior in the wood            wrenches his bridle,

2153 Hit the horse with his heels            as hard as he could,

2154 Leaps him over the land,            and leaves the knight there

2155 Alone.

2156 “By God’s self,” quoth Gawain,

2157 “I will neither gripe nor groan;

2158 Of God’s will I am certain,

2159 And I know that I am His own.”

2140 “Mary!” quoþ þat oþer mon, “now þou so much spelle?,

2141 Þat þou wylt þyn awen nye nyme to þyseluen,

2142 And þe lyst lese þy lyf, þe lette I ne kepe.

2143 Haf here þi helme on þy hede, þi spere in þi honde,

2144 And ryde me doun þis ilk rake bi ?on rokke syde,

2145 Til þou be bro?t to þe boþem of þe brem valay;

2146 Þenne loke a littel on þe launde, on þi lyfte honde,

2147 And þou schal se in þat slade þe self chapel,

2148 And þe borelych burne on bent þat hit kepe?.

2149 Now fare? wel, on Gode? half, Gawayn þe noble!

2150 For alle þe golde vpon grounde I nolde go wyth þe,

2151 Ne bere þe fela?schip þur? þis fryth on fote fyrre.”

2152 Bi þat þe wy?e in þe wod wende? his brydel,

2153 Hit þe hors with þe hele? as harde as he my?t,

2154 Lepe? hym ouer þe launde, and leue? þe kny?t þere

2155 al one.

2156 “Bi Godde? self,” quoþ Gawayn,

2157 “I wyl nauþer grete ne grone:

2158 To Godde? wylle I am ful bayn,

2159 And to hym I haf me tone.”

2160 Then gives he spur to Gringolet,            and gets again the path,

2161 Strikes in by a shore            at a shining wood’s side,

2162 Rides through the rough bank            right to the dale;

2163 And then he watched about him            and wild he thought it,

2164 And saw no sign of refuge            nowhere beside,

2165 But high banks and steep            upon both sides,

2166 And rough knobs gnarled            with twisted stones;

2167 The clouds seemed to graze            on the clustered rocks.

2168 Then he halted, and held back            his horse at that tide,

2169 And often searched around            the chapel to seek:

2170 He saw none such on any side,            and strange it seemed to him,

2171 Except a little rise on a lawn,            a knoll as it were;

2172 A smooth mound by a bank            beside the water’s brim,

2173 By a waterfall of a flood            that foamed up there;

2174 The brook bubbled there-in            as if it were boilimg.

2175 The knight spurs his courser,            and comes to the mound,

2176 Lights down lively,            and at a linden attaches

2177 The reins of his steed            to a rough branch.

2178 Then he bounds to the mound;            about it he walks,

2179 Debating with himself            what it might be.

2180 It had a hole on the end            and on either side,

2181 And overgrown with grass            on the ground everywhere,

2182 And all was hollow within,            naught but an old cave,

2183 Or a crevice of an old crag,            he could not say which

2184 It befell.

2185 “Why! Lord,” quoth the gentle knight,

2186 “Can this be the Green Chapel?

2187 Here might about midnight

2188 The devil his matins tell!”

2160 Thenne gyrde? he to Gryngolet, and gedere? þe rake,

2161 Schowue? in bi a schore at a scha?e syde,

2162 Ride? þur? þe ro?e bonk ry?t to þe dale;

2163 And þenne he wayted hym aboute, and wylde hit hym þo?t,

2164 And se?e no syngne of resette bisyde? nowhere,

2165 Bot hy?e bonkke? and brent vpon boþe halue,

2166 And ru?e knokled knarre? with knorned stone?;

2167 Þe skwe? of þe scowtes skayned hym þo?t.

2168 Þenne he houed, and wythhylde his hors at þat tyde,

2169 And ofte chaunged his cher þe chapel to seche:

2170 He se? non suche in no syde, and selly hym þo?t,

2171 Saue, a lyttel on a launde, a lawe as hit were;

2172 A bal? ber? bi a bonke þe brymme bysyde,

2173 Bi a for? of a flode þat ferked þare;

2174 Þe borne blubred þerinne as hit boyled hade.

2175 Þe kny?t kache? his caple, and com to þe lawe,

2176 Li?e? doun luflyly, and at a lynde tache?

2177 Þe rayne and his riche with a ro?e braunche.

2178 Þenne he bo?e? to þe ber?e, aboute hit he walke?,

2179 Debatande with hymself quat hit be my?t.

2180 Hit hade a hole on þe ende and on ayþer syde,

2181 And ouergrowen with gresse in glodes aywhere,

2182 And al wat? hol? inwith, nobot an olde caue,

2183 Or a creuisse of an olde cragge, he couþe hit no?t deme

2184 with spelle.

2185 We! Lorde,” quoþ þe gentyle kny?t,

2186 “Wheþer þis be þe Grene Chapelle?

2187 Here my?t aboute mydny?t

2188 Þe dele his matynnes telle!

2189 “Now indeed,” quoth Wawain,            “it is wild here;

2190 This oratory is ugly,            with weeds overgrown;

2191 Well befits the warrior            wrapped in green

2192 To do here his devotion            in the devil’s way.

2193 Now I feel it is the fiend,            in my five wits,

2194 That has doomed me on this date            to destroy me here.

2195 This is a chapel of misfortune;            may mischief betide it!

2196 It is the cursedest church            that I ever came in!”

2197 With high helmet on his head,            his lance in his hand,

2198 He roams up to the roof            of the rough dwelling.

2199 Then heard he from that high hill,            on a hard rock

2200 Beyond the brook, in a bank,            a wondrous big noise,

2201 Whoosh! It clattered in the cliff,            as if it cleave should,

2202 As if one upon a grindstone            had ground a scythe.

2203 Whoosh! It whirred and whirled,            as water at a mill;

2204 Whoosh! It rushed and rang,            rueful to hear.

2205 Then “By God,” quoth Gawain,            “that gear, as I believe,

2206 Is readied to honor me,            to meet with due ritual the rider

2207 Coming here.

2208 Let God do as He will. Why, lo!

2209 No help for me will appear.

2210 My life though I forgo

2211 No noise will make me fear.”

2189 “Now iwysse,” quoþ Wowayn, “wysty is here;

2190 Þis oritore is vgly, with erbe? ouergrowen;

2191 Wel biseme? þe wy?e wruxled in grene

2192 Dele here his deuocioun on þe deuele? wyse.

2193 Now I fele hit is þe fende, in my fyue wytte?,

2194 Þat hat? stoken me þis steuen to strye me here.

2195 Þis is a chapel of meschaunce, þat chekke hit bytyde!

2196 Hit is þe corsedest kyrk þat euer I com inne!”

2197 With he?e helme on his hede, his launce in his honde,

2198 He rome? vp to þe roffe of þe ro? wone?.

2199 Þene herde he of þat hy?e hil, in a harde roche

2200 Bi?onde þe broke, in a bonk, a wonder breme noyse,

2201 Quat! hit clatered in þe clyff, as hit cleue schulde,

2202 As one vpon a gryndelston hade grounden a syþe.

2203 What! hit wharred and whette, as water at a mulne;

2204 What! hit rusched and ronge, rawþe to here.

2205 Þenne “Bi Godde,” quoþ Gawayn, “þat gere, as I trowe,

2206 Is ryched at þe reuerence me, renk, to mete

2207 bi rote.

2208 Let God worche. We, loo!

2209 Hit helppe? me not a mote.

2210 My lif þa? I forgoo,

2211 Drede dot? me no lote.”

2212 Then the knight            did call full loud:

2213 “Who stands in this spot            my set date to keep?

2214 For now is good Gawain            going right here.

2215 If any warrior wants anything,            let him wend hither fast,

2216 Either now or never,            his errand to achieve.”

2217 “Abide,” quoth one on the bank            above, over his head,

2218 “And thou shalt have promptly            what I promised thee once.”

2219 Yet he raised that roaring noise            longer for a while

2220 And with whetting continued,            ere he would alight;

2221 And then he climbed down by a crag,            and came from a hole,

2222 Whirling out of a crevice            with a fierce weapon,

2223 A Danish ax newly honed,            with which to yield the dint,

2224 With a massive blade            curving back toward the handle,

2225 Filed sharp by a whetstone,            four foot long.

2226 It was no less than that lace sash            that gleamed full bright,

2227 And the gallant in the green            garbed as at first,

2228 Both the face and the legs,            locks and beard,

2229 Save that fair on his foot            he fared on the earth,

2230 Set the steel to the stone,            and stalked beside.

2231 When he got to the water,            where he would not wade,

2232 He vaulted over on his ax            and vigorously strides,

2233 Furiously fierce on a field            that flecked was about,

2234 With snow.

2235 Sir Gawain the knight did meet;

2236 He in no way bowed him low.

2237 That other said, “Now, sir sweet,

2238 That thou keepest thy word we know.

2212 Thenne þe kny?t con calle ful hy?e:

2213 “Who sti?tle? in þis sted me steuen to holde?

2214 For now is gode Gawayn goande ry?t here.

2215 If any wy?e o?t wyl, wynne hider fast,

2216 Oþer now oþer neuer, his nede? to spede.”

2217 “Abyde,” quoþ on on þe bonke abouen ouer his hede,

2218 “And þou schal haf al in hast þat I þe hy?t ones.”

2219 ?et he rusched on þat rurde rapely a þrowe

2220 And wyth quettyng awharf, er he wolde ly?t;

2221 And syþen he keuere? bi a cragge, and come? of a hole,

2222 Whyrlande out of a wro wyth a felle weppen,

2223 A Dene? ax nwe dy?t, þe dynt with to ?elde,

2224 With a borelych bytte bende by þe halme,

2225 Fyled in a fylor, fowre fote large.

2226 Hit wat? no lasse bi þat lace þat lemed ful bry?t

2227 And þe gome in þe grene gered as fyrst,

2228 Boþe þe lyre and þe legge?, lokke? and berde,

2229 Saue þat fayre on his fote he founde? on þe erþe,

2230 Sette þe stele to þe stone, and stalked bysyde.

2231 When he wan to þe watter, þer he wade nolde,

2232 He hypped ouer on hys ax, and orpedly stryde?,

2233 Bremly broþe on a bent þat brode wat? aboute,

2234 on snawe.

2235 Sir Gawayn þe kny?t con mete;

2236 He ne lutte hym noþyng lowe.

2237 Þat oþer sayde, “Now, sir swete,

2238 Of steuen mon may þe trowe.”

2239 “Gawain,” quoth that green gallant,            “May God guide thee!

2240 Indeed thou art welcome,            warrior, to my place,

2241 And hast timed thy travail            as true man should,

2242 And thou knowest the covenants            cast us between:

2243 At this time twelvemonth            thou took what thee befell,

2244 And I should at this New Year            surely thee requite.

2245 And we are in this valley            verily ourselves alone;

2246 Here are no referees to interfere;            we may rule us as we like.

2247 Have thy helmet off thy head,            and have here thy pay.

2248 Make no more debate            than I brought thee then

2249 When thou whipped off my head            with one single whack.”

2250 “Nay,” quoth Gawain,            “by God Who gave me soul,

2251 I shall grudge thee not a bit            for any grief that may befall.

2252 But be satisfied with one stroke,            and I shall stand still

2253 And willingly I warrant            to work as thou please

2254 Anywhere.”

2255 He leaned with the neck, to bow,

2256 And showed that flesh all bare,

2257 Let on that he naught feared now;

2258 For dread he would not despair.

2239 “Gawayn,” quoþ þat grene gome, “God þe mot loke!

2240 Iwysse þou art welcom, wy?e, to my place,

2241 And þou hat? tymed þi trauayl as truee mon schulde,

2242 And þou knowe? þe couenaunte? kest vus bytwene:

2243 At þis tyme twelmonyth þou toke þat þe falled,

2244 And I schulde at þis Nwe ?ere ?eply þe quyte.

2245 And we ar in þis valay verayly oure one;

2246 Here ar no renkes vs to rydde, rele as vus like?.

2247 Haf þy helme of þy hede, and haf here þy pay.

2248 Busk no more debate þen I þe bede þenne

2249 When þou wypped of my hede at a wap one.”

2250 “Nay, bi God,” quoþ Gawayn, “þat me gost lante,

2251 I schal gruch þe no grwe for grem þat falle?.

2252 Bot sty?tel þe vpon on strok, and I schal stonde stylle

2253 And warp þe no wernyng to worch as þe lyke?,

2254 nowhare.”

2255 He lened with þe nek, and lutte,

2256 And schewed þat schyre al bare,

2257 And lette as he no?t dutte;

2258 For drede he wolde not dare.

2259 Then the gallant in the green            got himself ready,

2260 Gathers up his grim tool            Gawain to smite;

2261 With all the strength in his body            he bore it aloft,

2262 Swung as mightily            as if to destroy him he would;

2263 Had it driven down as deadly            as he pretended,

2264 There had been dead of his dint            he that doughty was ever.

2265 But Gawain on that great ax            glanced sideways,

2266 As it came crashing down            to the ground to destroy him,

2267 And he shrank a little with the shoulders            from the sharp iron.

2268 That other chevalier shifts            and the shining blade withholds,

2269 And then reproved he the prince            with many proud words:

2270 “Thou art not Gawain,” quoth the gallant,            “that is so well regarded,

2271 That was never frightened by any host            by hill nor by vale,

2272 And now thou flinchest for fear            ere thou feel harms!

2273 Such cowardice of that knight            could I never hear.

2274 I neither flinched nor fled,            fighter, when thou swung,

2275 Nor cast any quibbles            in the king’s house of Arthur.

2276 My head flew to my foot,            and yet fled I never;

2277 And thou, ere any harm is had,            art horrified in heart;

2278 Wherefore the better battler            I ought to be called

2279 Therefore.”

2280 Quoth Gawain, “I flinched once alone,

2281 And so will I no more;

2282 But though my head fall on the stone,

2283 I cannot it restore.

2259 Then þe gome in þe grene grayþed hym swyþe,

2260 Gedere? vp hys grymme tole Gawayn to smyte;

2261 With alle þe bur in his body he ber hit on lofte,

2262 Munt as ma?tyly as marre hym he wolde;

2263 Hade hit dryuen adoun as dre? as he atled,

2264 Þer hade ben ded of his dynt þat do?ty wat? euer.

2265 Bot Gawayn on þat giserne glyfte hym bysyde,

2266 As hit com glydande adoun on glode hym to schende,

2267 And schranke a lytel with þe schulderes for þe scharp yrne.

2268 Þat oþer schalk wyth a schunt þe schene wythhalde?,

2269 And þenne repreued he þe prynce with mony prowde worde?:

2270 “Þou art not Gawayn,” quoþ þe gome, “þat is so goud halden,

2271 Þat neuer ar?ed for no here by hylle ne be vale,

2272 And now þou fles for ferde er þou fele harme?!

2273 Such cowardise of þat kny?t cowþe I neuer here.

2274 Nawþer fyked I ne fla?e, freke, quen þou myntest,

2275 Ne kest no kauelacion in kynge? hous Arthor.

2276 My hede fla? to my fote, and ?et fla? I neuer;

2277 And þou, er any harme hent, ar?e? in hert;

2278 Wherfore þe better burne me burde be called

2279 þerfore.”

2280 Quoþ Gawayn, “I schunt one?,

2281 And so wyl I no more;

2282 Bot þa? my hede falle on þe stone?,

2283 I con not hit restore.

2284 “But get ready, battler, by thy faith,            and bring me to the point.

2285 Deal to me my destiny,            and do it out of hand,

2286 For I shall stand thee one stroke,            and stir no more

2287 Till thine ax have me hit.            Have here my troth!”

2288 “Have at thee then!” quoth that other,            and heaves it aloft,

2289 And looks about as wrathfully            as if he were crazy.

2290 He menaces at him mightily,            but not the man touches,

2291 Withheld suddenly his hand,            ere it hurt might.

2292 Gawain gracefully it abides,            and moved with no member,

2293 But stayed still as the stone,            or a stump rather

2294 That embedded is in rocky ground            with roots a hundred.

2295 Then merrily again did he speak,            the man in the green:

2296 “So, now thou hast thy heart whole,            it behooves me to hit.

2297 Help thee now the high rank            to which Arthur thee raised,

2298 And preserve thy throat at this encounter,            if it protect can.”

2299 Gawain full grimly            with anger then said:

2300 “Why! thresh on, thou fierce man;            thou threatenest too long;

2301 I believe that thy heart is frightened            by thine own self.”

2302 “For sooth,” quoth that other fighter,            “so fiercely thou speakest,

2303 I will no longer look            to delay thine errand

2304 I vow.”

2305 Then takes he his stance to strike,

2306 And frowns both lip and brow;

2307 No marvel that he it mislike,

2308 Who hoped for no help now.

2284 “Bot busk, burne, bi þi fayth, and bryng me to þe poynt.

2285 Dele to me my destiné, and do hit out of honde,

2286 For I schal stonde þe a strok, and start no more

2287 Til þyn ax haue me hitte. Haf here my trawþe.”

2288 “Haf at þe þenne!” quoþ þat oþer, and heue? hit alofte,

2289 And wayte? as wroþely as he wode were.

2290 He mynte? at hym ma?tyly, bot not þe mon ryne?,

2291 Withhelde heterly his honde, er hit hurt my?t.

2292 Gawayn grayþely hit byde?, and glent with no membre,

2293 Bot stode stylle as þe ston, oþer a stubbe auþer

2294 Þat raþeled is in roché grounde with rote? a hundreth.

2295 Þen muryly efte con he mele, þe mon in þe grene:

2296 “So, now þou hat? þi hert holle, hitte me bihous.

2297 Halde þe now þe hy?e hode þat Arþur þe ra?t,

2298 And kepe þy kanel at þis kest, ?if hit keuer may.”

2299 Gawayn ful gryndelly with greme þenne sayde:

2300 “Wy! þresch on, þou þro mon, þou þrete? to longe;

2301 I hope þat þi hert ar?e wyth þyn awen seluen.”

2302 “For soþe,” quoþ þat oþer freke, “so felly þou speke?,

2303 I wyl no lenger on lyte lette þin ernde

2304 ri?t nowe.”

2305 Þenne tas he hym stryþe to stryke,

2306 And frounse? boþe lyppe and browe;

2307 No meruayle þa? hym myslyke

2308 Þat hoped of no rescowe.

2309 He lifts lightly his tool,            and let it down fair

2310 With the blade of the bit            by the bare neck;

2311 Though he hammered heartily,            he hurt him no more

2312 Than a snick on that one side,            that slit the skin.

2313 The sharp sank in the flesh            through the shining grease,

2314 So that the bright blood over his shoulders            shot to the earth;

2315 And when the battler saw the blood            bright on the snow,

2316 Feet together, he broad-jumped forth,            more than a spear’s length,

2317 Grabbed hastily his helmet,            and on his head cast,

2318 Shot his shoulders            under his fair shield,

2319 Brings out a bright sword,            and bravely he speaks.

2320 Never since that he was babe            born of his mother

2321 Was there ever in this world            warrior half so blithe.

2322 “Abide, battler;            of thy blows give me no more!

2323 I have one stroke in this place            without strife taken,

2324 And if thou offer me any more,            I readily shall requite,

2325 And repay rapidly in turn            —and there-to ye trust—

2326 As a foe.

2327 But one stroke here me befalls;

2328 The covenant shaped right so,

2329 Confirmed in Arthur’s halls,

2330 And there-for, courtier, now whoa!”

2309 He lyftes ly?tly his lome, and let hit doun fayre

2310 With þe barbe of þe bitte bi þe bare nek;

2311 Þa? he homered heterly, hurt hym no more

2312 Bot snyrt hym on þat on syde, þat seuered þe hyde.

2313 Þe scharp schrank to þe flesche þur? þe schyre grece,

2314 Þat þe schene blod ouer his schulderes schot to þe erþe;

2315 And quen þe burne se? þe blode blenk on þe snawe,

2316 He sprit forth spenne-fote more þen a spere lenþe,

2317 Hent heterly his helme, and on his hed cast,

2318 Schot with his schuldere? his fayre schelde vnder,

2319 Brayde? out a bry?t sworde, and bremely he speke?.

2320 Neuer syn þat he wat? burne borne of his moder

2321 Wat? he neuer in þis worlde wy?e half so blyþe.

2322 “Blynne, burne, of þy bur, bede me no mo!

2323 I haf a stroke in þis sted withoute stryf hent,

2324 And if þow reche? me any mo, I redyly schal quyte,

2325 And ?elde ?ederly a?ayn — and þerto ?e tryst —

2326 and foo.

2327 Bot on stroke here me falle?;

2328 Þe couenaunt schop ry?t so,

2329 Fermed in Arþure? halle?,

2330 And þerfore, hende, now hoo!”

2331 The horseman held himself back,            and on his ax rested,

2332 Set the shaft upon shore,            and on the sharp leaned,

2333 And looked to the liegeman            that on the land went

2334 How that doughty, dreadless,            dauntless there stands

2335 Armed, full fearless:            in heart it pleases him.

2336 Then he speaks merrily            with a mighty voice,

2337 And with a ringing roar            he to the rider said:

2338 “Bold battler, on this field            be not so fierce.

2339 No man here unmannerly            thee mistreated has,

2340 Nor acted but as covenant            at king’s court requires.

2341 I promised thee one stroke and thou it hast;            hold thee well paid;

2342 I release thee of the remnant            of all other rights.

2343 If I more belligerent had been,            a buffet perhaps

2344 I could more harshly have dealt,            to thee have wrought harm.

2345 First I menaced thee merrily            with one mighty blow,

2346 And ripped thee with no sore gash;            which rightly I thee proffered

2347 For the agreement that we arranged            on the first night,

2348 And thou, trusty and true,            thy troth to me heldest;

2349 All the gains thou me gave,            as good man should.

2350 That second swing on this morning,            man, I proffered thee:

2351 Thou kissedest my comely wife;            the kisses you returned to me.

2352 For both of the two here I thee offered            only two bare swings

2353 To disconcert.

2354 A true man must truly restore;

2355 Then one need fear no hurt.

2356 At the third thou failed, no more;

2357 That tap is thy just desert.

2331 The haþel heldet hym fro, and on his ax rested,

2332 Sette þe schaft vpon schore, and to þe scharp lened,

2333 And loked to þe leude þat on þe launde ?ede,

2334 How þat do?ty, dredles, deruely þer stonde?

2335 Armed, ful a?le?: in hert hit hym lyke?.

2336 Þenn he mele? muryly wyth a much steuen,

2337 And wyth a rynkande rurde he to þe renk sayde:

2338 “Bolde burne, on þis bent be not so gryndel.

2339 No mon here vnmanerly þe mysboden habbe?,

2340 Ne kyd bot as couenaunde at kynge? kort schaped.

2341 I hy?t þe a strok and þou hit hat?, halde þe wel payed;

2342 I relece þe of þe remnaunt of ry?tes alle oþer.

2343 ?if I deliuer had bene, a boffet paraunter

2344 I couþe wroþeloker haf waret, to þe haf wro?t anger.

2345 Fyrst I mansed þe muryly with a mynt one,

2346 And roue þe wyth no rof-sore, with ry?t I þe profered

2347 For the forewarde that we fest on the fyrst ny?t;

2348 And þou trystyly þe trawþe and trwly me halde?;

2349 Al þe gayne þow me gef, as god mon schulde.

2350 Þat oþer munt for þe morne, mon, I þe profered:

2351 Þou kyssedes my clere wyf; þe cosse? me ra?te?.

2352 For boþe two here I þe bede bot two bare myntes

2353   boute scaþe.

2354 Trwe mon trwe restore,

2355 Þenne þar mon drede no waþe.

2356 At þe þrid þou fayled þore,

2357 And þerfor þat tappe ta þe.

2358 “For it is my weed that thou wearest,            that same woven girdle,

2359 Mine own wife weaved it for thee,            I know well for sooth.

2360 Now know I well thy kisses,            and thy customs also,

2361 And the wooing of my wife:            I wrought it myself.

2362 I sent her to assay thee,            and soothly thou seemest to me

2363 The most faultless fighter            that ever on foot went;

2364 As pearl compared to the white peas            is greater in price,

2365 So is Gawain, in good faith,            compared to other gay knights.

2366 But here you lacked a little, sir,            and loyalty you wanted;

2367 But that was for no wild work,            nor wooing neither,

2368 But for ye loved your life;            the less I you blame.”

2369 That other strong man in study            stood a great while,

2370 So aggrieved for anger            he groaned within;

2371 All the blood of his breast            blended in his face,

2372 That all he shrank for shame            as the chevalier talked.

2373 The first word on the field            that the fighter spoke:

2374 “Cursed be cowardice            and covetousness both!

2375 In you is villainy and vice            that virtue destroys.”

2376 Then he caught on to the knot,            and the clasp loosens,

2377 Flings, boiling, the belt            to the battler himself:

2378 “Lo! there the falsehood,            foul may it befall!

2379 For care of thy knock            cowardice me taught

2380 To accord me with coveting            my character to forsake,

2381 That is largesse and loyalty            that belongs to knights.

2382 Now am I faulty and false,            and feared have been ever

2383 Of treachery and untruth:            both betide sorrow

2384 And care!

2385 I confess, knight; hear me still,

2386 I am at fault in this affair;

2387 Let me regain your good will

2388 And next time I shall be ware.”

2358 “For hit is my wede þat þou were?, þat ilke wouen girdel,

2359 Myn owen wyf hit þe weued, I wot wel for soþe.

2360 Now know I wel þy cosses, and þy costes als,

2361 And þe wowyng of my wyf: I wro?t hit myseluen.

2362 I sende hir to asay þe, and sothly me þynkke?

2363 On þe fautlest freke þat euer on fote ?ede;

2364 As perle bi þe quite pese is of prys more,

2365 So is Gawayn, in god fayth, bi oþer gay kny?te?.

2366 Bot here yow lakked a lyttel, sir, and lewté yow wonted;

2367 Bot þat wat? for no wylyde werke, ne wowyng nauþer,

2368 Bot for ?e lufed your lyf; þe lasse I yow blame.”

2369 Þat oþer stif mon in study stod a gret whyle,

2370 So agreued for greme he gryed withinne;

2371 Alle þe blode of his brest blende in his face,

2372 Þat al he schrank for schome þat þe schalk talked.

237 Þe forme worde vpon folde þat þe freke meled:

2374 “Corsed worth cowarddyse and couetyse boþe!

2375 In yow is vylany and vyse þat vertue disstrye?.”

2376 Þenne he ka?t to þe knot, and þe kest lawse?,

2377 Brayde broþely þe belt to þe burne seluen:

2378 “Lo! þer þe falssyng, foule mot hit falle!

2379 For care of þy knokke cowardyse me ta?t

2380 To acorde me with couetyse, my kynde to forsake,

2381 Þat is larges and lewté þat longe? to kny?te?.

2382 Now am I fawty and falce, and ferde haf ben euer

2383 Of trecherye and vntrawþe: boþe bityde sor?e

2384 and care!

2385 I biknowe yow, kny?t, here stylle,

2386 Al fawty is my fare;

2387 Lete? me ouertake your wylle

2388 And efte I schal be ware.”

2389 Then laughed that other liege            and lovingly said:

2390 “I hold it happily healed,            the harm that I had.

2391 Thou hast confessed so completely,            acknowledged thy misdeeds,

2392 And hast the public penance            of the point of my blade ,

2393 I hold thee polished by that penance,            and purified as clean

2394 As if thou had never sinned            since thou was first born;

2395 And I give thee, sir,            the girdle that is gold-hemmed,

2396 For it is green as my gown.            Sir Gawain, ye may

2397 Think upon this thing,            when thou art in the throng

2398 Around princes of price,            and this a pure token

2399 Of the adventure of the Green Chapel            for chivalrous knights.

2400 And ye shall in this New Year            go again to my dwelling,

2401 And we shall revel for the remnant            of this rich feast

2402 The ladies between.”

2403 Then invited him earnestly the lord

2404 And said: “With my wife, I ween,

2405 We shall you well accord,

2406 That was your enemy keen.”

2389 Thenn lo?e þat oþer leude and luflyly sayde:

2390 “I halde hit hardily hole, þe harme þat I hade.

2391 Þou art confessed so clene, beknowen of þy mysses,

2392 And hat? þe penaunce apert of þe poynt of myn egge,

2393 I halde þe polysed of þat ply?t, and pured as clene

2394 As þou hade? neuer forfeted syþen þou wat? fyrst borne;

2395 And I gif þe, sir, þe gurdel þat is golde-hemmed,

2396 For hit is grene as my goune. Sir Gawayn, ?e maye

2397 Þenk vpon þis ilke þrepe, þer þou forth þrynge?

2398 Among prynces of prys, and þis a pure token

2399 Of þe chaunce of þe Grene Chapel at cheualrous kny?te?.

2400 And ?e schal in þis Nwe ?er a?ayn to my wone?,

2401 And we schyn reuel þe remnaunt of þis ryche fest

2402 ful bene.”

2403 Þer laþed hym fast þe lorde

2404 And sayde: “With my wyf, I wene,

2405 We schal yow wel acorde,

2406 Þat wat? your enmy kene.”

2407 “Nay, for sooth,” quoth the stalwart,            and seized his helmet,

2408 And has it off graciously,            and the Green Knight thanks:

2409 “I have sojourned sadly;            may good fortune be yours,

2410 And may He reward you mightily            Who honors all good manners!

2411 And commend me to that courteous,            your comely companion,

2412 Both the one and that other,            mine honored ladies,

2413 That thus their knight with their tricks            have cleverly beguiled.

2414 But it is no marvel            though a fool go mad,

2415 And through wiles of women            be won over to sorrow,

2416 For so was Adam on earth            by one beguiled,

2417 And Solomon by many such,            and Samson in his turn:

2418 Delilah dealt him his fate.            David there-after

2419 Was befuddled by Bathsheba            and much bale suffered.

2420 Now these were wronged by their wiles.            It would be a real pleasure

2421 To love them well, and believe them not,            if a knight could do that.

2422 For these were formerly the finest,            whom fortune favored

2423 Excellently over all these others,            under the heavens

2424 Confused;

2425 And all these made wild,

2426 By women that they used.

2427 Though I be now beguiled,

2428 I think I might be excused.

2407 “Nay, for soþe,” quoþ þe segge, and sesed hys helme,

2408 And hat? hit of hendely, and þe haþel þonkke?:

2409 “I haf soiorned sadly; sele yow bytyde,

2410 And He ?elde hit yow ?are þat ?arkke? al menskes!

2411 And comaunde? me to þat cortays, your comlych fere,

2412 Boþe þat on and þat oþer, myn honoured ladye?,

2413 Þat þus hor kny?t wyth hor kest han koyntly bigyled.

2414 Bot hit is no ferly þa? a fole madde,

2415 And þur? wyles of wymmen be wonen to sor?e,

2416 For so wat? Adam in erde with one bygyled,

2417 And Salamon with fele sere, and Samson eftsone?:

2418 Dalyda dalt hym hys wyrde. And Dauyth þerafter

2419 Wat? blended with Barsabe, þat much bale þoled.

2420 Now þese were wrathed wyth her wyles. Hit were a wynne huge

2421 To luf hom wel, and leue hem not, a leude þat couþe.

2422 For þes wer forne þe freest, þat fol?ed alle þe sele

2423 Exellently of alle þyse oþer, vnder heuenryche

2424 þat mused;

2425 And alle þay were biwyled

2426 With wymmen þat þay vsed.

2427 Þa? I be now bigyled,

2428 Me þink me burde be excused.

2429 “But your girdle,” quoth Gawain,            “God give you reward!

2430 That will I wield with good will,            not for winning gold,

2431 Nor the sash, nor the silk,            nor the side pendants,

2432 For wealth nor for worship,            nor for the worthy works,

2433 But in sign of my sin            I shall see it often,

2434 When I ride in renown,            remorse to myself,

2435 The fault and the feebleness            of the crabbed flesh,

2436 How easy it is to entice            touches of filth;

2437 And thus, when pride presses me on            for prowess of arms,

2438 The look to this love-lace            shall allay my heart.

2439 But one thing I would you pray,            may it displease you never:

2440 Since ye be lord of the yonder land            where I have lingered

2441 With you with worship;            for that may you be rewarded by the Warrior

2442 That upholds the heaven            and on high sits.

2443 How say ye your true name?            And then I ask no more.”

2444 “That shall I tell thee truly,”            quoth that other then,

2445 “Bercilak de Hautdesert            I am called in this land.

2446 Through might of Morgan la Fay,            who in my house lives,

2447 And quaint lore of clergy,            by crafts well learned,

2448 Many of the magic arts            of Merlin has she taken

2449 For she was mistress            full dear at one time

2450 To that cunning clerk            that knows all your knights

2451 By fame;

2452 Morgan the goddess

2453 Therefore is her name:

2454 Wields none such high haughtiness

2455 Whom she cannot make full tame.

2429 “Bot your gordel,” quoþ Gawayn, “God yow for?elde!

2430 Þat wyl I welde wyth guod wylle, not for þe wynne golde,

2431 Ne þe saynt, ne þe sylk, ne þe syde pendaundes,

2432 For wele ne for worchyp, ne for þe wlonk werkke?,

2433 Bot in syngne of my surfet I schal se hit ofte,

2434 When I ride in renoun, remorde to myseluen

2435 Þe faut and þe fayntyse of þe flesche crabbed,

2436 How tender hit is to entyse teches of fylþe;

2437 And þus, quen pryde schal me pryk for prowes of armes,

2438 Þe loke to þis luf-lace schal leþe my hert.

2439 Bot on I wolde yow pray, displeses yow neuer:

2440 Syn ?e be lorde of þe ?onder londe þer I haf lent inne

2441 Wyth yow wyth worschyp; þe Wy?e hit yow ?elde

2442 Þat vphalde? þe heuen and on hy? sitte?.

2443 How norne ?e yowre ry?t nome, and þenne no more?”

2444 “Þat schal I telle þe trwly,” quoþ þat oþer þenne,

2445 “Bertilak de Hautdesert I hat in þis londe.

2446 Þur? my?t of Morgne la Faye, þat in my hous lenges,

2447 And koyntyse of clergye, bi craftes wel lerned,

2448 Þe maystrés of Merlyn mony hat? taken

2449 For ho hat? dalt drwry ful dere sumtyme

2450 With þat conable klerk, þat knowes alle your kny?te?

2541 at hame;

2452 Morgne þe goddes

2453 Þerfore hit is hir name:

2454 Welde? non so hy?e hawtesse

2455 Þat ho ne con make ful tame.

2456 “She sent me in this manner            to your splendid hall

2457 For to assay the swollen pride,            if it sooth were

2458 That runs of the great renown            of the Round Table;

2459 She brought thee this wonder            your wits to bereave

2460 And to have grieved Guenevere            and got her to die

2461 By the gruesome sight of that gallant            that ghastly spoke

2462 With his head in his hand            before the high table.

2463 That is she that is at home,            the ancient lady;

2464 She is even thine aunt,            Arthur’s half-sister,

2465 The duchess’ daughter of Tintagel,            whom dear Uther after

2466 Had Arthur upon,            that glorious is now.

2467 Therefore I urge thee, horseman,            to come to thine aunt,

2468 Make merry in my house;            my court thee loves,

2469 And I will love thee as well, warrior,            by my faith,

2470 As any gallant under God            for thy great truth.”

2471 And Gawain denied him with “nay”;            he would in no way.

2472 They embrace and kiss            and each the other

2473 To the Prince of Paradise,            and they part right there

2474 In the cold;

2475 Gawain on bronco keen

2476 To the king’s court rushes bold,

2477 And the knight in the deep green

2478 Went where-so-ever he would.

2456 “Ho wayned me vpon þis wyse to your wynne halle

2457 For to assay þe surquidré, ?if hit soth were

2458 Þat rennes of þe grete renoun of þe Rounde Table;

2459 Ho wayned me þis wonder your wytte? to reue,

2460 For to haf greued Gaynour and gart hir to dy?e

2461 With glopnyng of þat ilke gome þat gostlych speked

2462 With his hede in his honde bifore þe hy?e table.

2463 Þat is ho þat is at home, þe auncian lady;

2464 Ho is euen þyn aunt, Arþure? half-suster,

2465 Þe duches do?ter of Tyntagelle, þat dere Vter after

2466 Hade Arþur vpon, þat aþel is nowþe.

2467 Þerfore I eþe þe, haþel, to com to þyn aunt,

2468 Make myry in my hous; my meny þe louies,

2469 And I wol þe as wel, wy?e, bi my faythe,

2470 As any gome vnder God for þy grete trauþe.”

2471 And he nikked hym naye; he nolde bi no wayes.

2472 Þay acolen and kyssen and kennen ayþer oþer

2473 To þe prynce of paradise, and parten ry?t þere

2474 on coolde;

2475 Gawayn on blonk ful bene

2476 To þe kynge? bur? buske? bolde,

2477 And þe kny?t in þe enker-grene

2478 Whiderwarde-so-euer he wolde.

2479 Wild ways in the world            Wawain now rides

2480 On Gringolet, when the grace            was given of his life;

2481 Oft he was harbored in house            and often all outside,

2482 And had many adventures on the way,            and vanquished oft,

2483 Which I do not care at this time            in tale to rehearse.

2484 The hurt was whole where he had been            hit in his neck,

2485 And the bright shining belt            he bore there-about

2486 Obliquely as a baldric            bound by his side,

2487 Locked under his left arm            the lace sash, with a knot,

2488 As a token he was taken            by the touch of a sin.

2489 And thus he comes to the court,            a knight all safe and sound.

2490 There wakened joy in that dwelling            when the great king was aware

2491 That good Gawain was come            he thought it grand news.

2492 The king kisses the knight,            and the queen also,

2493 And then many sure knights            that sought to embrace him,

2494 That asked him how he fared;            and wonders he tells,

2495 He made known all the causes            of care that he had,

2496 The achievement of the chapel,            the cheer of the knight,

2497 The love of the lady,            the lace at the last.

2498 The nick in the neck            he naked them showed

2499 That he took from the liege lord’s hands            for his disloyalty,

2500 To blame.

2501 He grieved when he had to tell;

2502 He groaned for grief and ill fame;

2503 In his face the blood did up well,

2504 When he showed the nick, for shame.

2479 Wylde waye? in þe worlde Wowen now ryde?

2480 On Gryngolet, þat þe grace hade geten of his lyue;

2481 Ofte he herbered in house and ofte al þeroute,

2482 And mony aventure in vale, and venquyst ofte,

2483 Þat I ne ty?t at þis tyme in tale to remene.

2484 Þe hurt wat? hole þat he hade hent in his nek,

2485 And þe blykkande belt he bere þeraboute

2486 Abelef as a bauderyk bounden bi his syde,

2487 Loken vnder his lyfte arme, þe lace, with a knot,

2488 In tokenyng he wat? tane in tech of a faute.

2489 And þus he commes to þe court, kny?t al in sounde.

2490 Þer wakned wele in þat wone when wyst þe grete

2491 Þat gode Gawayn wat? commen, gayn hit hym þo?t.

2492 Þe kyng kysse? þe kny?t, and þe whene alce,

2493 And syþen mony syker kny?t þat so?t hym to haylce,

2494 Of his fare þat hym frayned; and ferlyly he telles,

2495 Biknowe? alle þe costes of care þat he hade,

2496 Þe chaunce of þe chapel, þe chere of þe kny?t,

2497 Þe luf of þe ladi, þe lace at þe last.

2498 Þe nirt in þe nek he naked hem schewed

2499 Þat he la?t for his vnleuté at þe leudes hondes

2500 for blame.

2501 He tened quen he schulde telle,

2502 He groned for gref and grame;

2503 Þe blod in his face con melle,

2504 When he hit schulde schewe, for schame.

2505 “Lo! lord,” quoth the liegeman,            and the lace handled,

2506 “This is the emblem of the blame            I bear in my neck,

2507 This is the injury and the loss            that I laid hold on

2508 For cowardice and covetousness            that I have caught there;

2509 This is the token of untruth            in which I was taken,

2510 And I must by necessity wear it            all the while I may live,

2511 For one may hide his harm,            but sin can not be hidden,

2512 For where it once is attached            depart will it never.”

2513 The king comforts the knight,            and all the court also

2514 Laugh loudly there-at,            and lovingly agree

2515 That lords and ladies            that belonged to the Table,

2516 Each member of the brotherhood,            a baldric should have,

2517 A band obliquely him about            of a bright green,

2518 And for the sake of that stalwart,            to wear that sign,

2519 For it represents the renown            of the Round Table,

2520 And he was honored that it had            evermore after,

2521 As it is written            in the best book of romance.

2522 Thus in Arthur’s day            this adventure befell,

2523 The Brutus books there-of            bear witness;

2524 Since Brutus, the bold brave,            first bounded hither

2525 Once the siege and the assault            was ceased at Troy,

2526 As it is.

2527 Many adventures here-before

2528 Have fallen such as this.

2529 May He Who bore the crown of thorns

2530 Bring us to his bliss!”

SHAME TO HIM WHO THINKS EVIL

2505 “Lo! lorde,” quoþ þe leude, and þe lace hondeled,

2506 “Þis is þe bende of þis blame I bere in my nek,

2507 Þis is þe laþe and þe losse þat I la?t haue

2508 Of couardise and couetyse þat I haf ca?t þare;

2509 Þis is þe token of vntrawþe þat I am tan inne,

2510 And I mot nede? hit were wyle I may last,

2511 For mon may hyden his harme, bot vnhap ne may hit,

2512 For þer hit one? is tachched twynne wil hit neuer.”

2513 Þe kyng comforte? þe kny?t, and alle þe court als

2514 La?en loude þerat, and luflyly acorden

2515 Þat lordes and ladis þat longed to þe Table,

2516 Vche burne of þe broþerhede, a bauderyk schulde haue,

2517 A bende abelef hym aboute of a bry?t grene,

2518 And þat, for sake of þat segge, in swete to were,

2519 For þat wat? acorded þe renoun of þe Rounde Table,

2520 And he honoured þat hit hade euermore after,

2521 As hit is breued in þe best boke of romaunce.

2522 Þus in Arthurus day þis aunter bitidde,

2523 Þe Brutus boke? þerof beres wyttenesse;

2524 Syþen Brutus, þe bolde burne, bo?ed hider fyrst,

2525 After þe segge and þe asaute wat? sesed at Troye,

2526 iwysse.

2527 Mony auntere? here-biforne

2528 Haf fallen suche er þis.

2529 Now þat bere þe croun of þorne,

2530 He bryng vus to his blysse!

AMEN.

HONY SOYT QUI MAL PENCE.

About the Author and Editor

Larry D. Benson is Higginson Professor of English Emeritus at Harvard University, where he taught for forty years, beginning in 1959, when he received his Ph.D. from the University of California at Berkeley and his appointment as an instructor at Harvard. He has written on a variety of subjects, including books on Middle English—Art and Tradition in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, King Arthur’s Death, and Malory’s Morte Darthure—and articles on Old and Middle English, most notably his 1966 article “The Literary Character of Anglo-Saxon Formulaic Poetry.” He is General Editor of The Riverside Chaucer.

Daniel Donoghue is the John P. Marquand Professor of English at Harvard University and the author of numerous publications on Old and Middle English, including Lady Godiva: A Literary History of the Legend and Old English Literature: A Short Introduction. He is editor of the Old English series for the Dumbarton Oaks Medieval Library of Harvard University Press.

Footnotes

[1] West Isles: British Isles

[2] Tartary: modern Mongolia.

[3] The poet uses both Gawain and Wawain for the hero, depending on the alliterative pattern. He observes the same convention in alternating between Guenore and Wenore for Guenevere.

[4] Zehyrus: the West Wind.

[5] Michaelmas: September 29; Michaelmas moon: harvest moon

[6] All Saints’ Day: November 1.

[7] Logres: England.

[8] Saint John’s Day: December 27

[9] The sentence is interrupted by a parenthical summary of a chivalric romance (1512–1519) illustrating the pains and rewards of knights in love. The sentence resumes at 1520.

Table of Contents

Acknowledgments

Select Bibliography

A Note on the Middle English Original Text

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight