Sir Gawain and the Green Knight


With care and wyth kyssyng he carppez hem tille,And fele þryuande þonkkez he þrat hom to haue,And þay 3elden hym a3ayn 3eply þat ilk;Þay bikende hym to Kryst with ful colde sykyngez.Syþen fro þe meyny he menskly departes;Vche mon þat he mette, he made hem a þonkeFor his seruyse and his solace and his sere pyne,Þat þay wyth busynes had ben aboute hym to serue;And vche segge as soré to seuer with hym þereAs þay hade wonde worþyly with þat wlonk euer.Þen with ledes and ly3t he watz ladde to his chambreAnd blyþely bro3t to his bedde to be at his rest.3if he ne slepe soundyly say ne dar I,For he hade muche on þe morn to mynne, 3if he wolde, in þo3t. Let hym ly3e þere stille, He hatz nere þat he so3t; And 3e wyl a whyle be stylle I schal telle yow how þay wro3t.Now ne3ez þe Nw 3ere, and þe ny3t passez,Þe day dryuez to þe derk, as Dry3tyn biddez;Bot wylde wederez of þe worlde wakned þeroute,Clowdes kesten kenly þe colde to þe erþe,Wyth ny3e innoghe of þe norþe, þe naked to tene;Þe snawe snitered ful snart, þat snayped þe wylde;Þe werbelande wynde wapped fro þe hy3e,And drof vche dale ful of dryftes ful grete.Þe leude lystened ful wel þat le3 in his bedde,Þa3 he lowkez his liddez, ful lyttel he slepes;Bi vch kok þat crue he knwe wel þe steuen.

“folio” n=”118r”
Deliuerly he dressed vp, er þe day sprenged,For þere watz ly3t of a laumpe þat lemed in his chambre;He called to his chamberlayn, þat cofly hym swared,And bede hym bryng hym his bruny and his blonk sadel;

Þat oþer ferkez hym vp and fechez hym his wedez,And grayþez me Sir Gawayn vpon a grett wyse.Fyrst he clad hym in his cloþez þe colde for to were,And syþen his oþer harnays, þat holdely watz keped,Boþe his paunce and his platez, piked ful clene,Þe ryngez rokked of þe roust of his riche bruny;And al watz fresch as vpon fyrst, and he watz fayn þenne to þonk; He hade vpon vche pece, Wypped ful wel and wlonk; Þe gayest into Grece, Þe burne bede bryng his blonk.Whyle þe wlonkest wedes he warp on hymseluen — His cote wyth þe conysaunce of þe clere werkezEnnurned vpon veluet, vertuus stonezAboute beten and bounden, enbrauded semez,And fayre furred withinne wyth fayre pelures — 3et laft he not þe lace, þe ladiez gifte,Þat forgat not Gawayn for gode of hymseluen.Bi he hade belted þe bronde vpon his bal3e haunchez,Þenn dressed he his drurye double hym aboute,Swyþe sweþled vmbe his swange swetely þat kny3tÞe gordel of þe grene silke, þat gay wel bisemed,Vpon þat ryol red cloþe þat ryche watz to schewe.Bot wered not þis ilk wy3e for wele þis gordel,For pryde of þe pendauntez, þa3 polyst þay were,And þa3 þe glyterande golde glent vpon endez,Bot for to sauen hymself, when suffer hym byhoued,To byde bale withoute dabate of bronde hym to were oþer knyffe. Bi þat þe bolde mon boun Wynnez þeroute bilyue, Alle þe meyny of renoun He þonkkez ofte ful ryue.

“folio” n=”118v”
Thenne watz Gryngolet grayþe, þat gret watz and huge,And hade ben soiourned sauerly and in a siker wyse,Hym lyst prik for poynt, þat proude hors þenne.

Þe wy3e wynnez hym to and wytez on his lyre,And sayde soberly hymself and by his soth swerez:’Here is a meyny in þis mote þat on menske þenkkez,Þe mon hem maynteines, ioy mot þay haue;Þe leue lady on lyue luf hir bityde;3if þay for charyté cherysen a gest,And halden honour in her honde, þe haþel hem 3eldeÞat haldez þe heuen vpon hy3e, and also yow alle!And 3if I my3t lyf vpon londe lede any quyle,I schuld rech yow sum rewarde redyly, if I my3t.’Þenn steppez he into stirop and strydez alofte;His schalk schewed hym his schelde, on schulder he hit la3t,Gordez to Gryngolet with his gilt helez,And he startez on þe ston, stod he no lenger to praunce. His haþel on hors watz þenne, Þat bere his spere and launce. ‘Þis kastel to Kryst I kenne’: He gef hit ay god chaunce.The brygge watz brayde doun, and þe brode 3atezVnbarred and born open vpon boþe halue.Þe burne blessed hym bilyue, and þe bredez passed — Prayses þe porter bifore þe prynce kneled,Gef hym God and goud day, þat Gawayn he saue — And went on his way with his wy3e one,Þat schulde teche hym to tourne to þat tene placeÞer þe ruful race he schulde resayue.Þay bo3en bi bonkkez þer bo3ez ar bare,Þay clomben bi clyffez þer clengez þe colde.Þe heuen watz vphalt, bot vgly þer-vnder;Mist muged on þe mor, malt on þe mountez,Vch hille hade a hatte, a myst-hakel huge.Brokez byled and breke bi bonkkez aboute,Schyre schaterande on schorez, þer þay doun schowued.

“folio” n=”119r”
Wela wylle watz þe way þer þay bi wod schulden,Til hit watz sone sesoun þat þe sunne ryses þat tyde. Þay were on a hille ful hy3e, Þe quyte snaw lay bisyde;

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