Bot for as much as 3e ar myn em I am only to prayse,No bountÃ© bot your blod I in my bodÃ© knowe;And syÃ¾en Ã¾is note is so nys Ã¾at no3t hit yow falles,And I haue frayned hit at yow fyrst, foldez hit to me;And if I carp not comlyly, let alle Ã¾is cort rych bout blame.’ Ryche togeder con roun, And syÃ¾en Ã¾ay redden alle same To ryd Ã¾e kyng wyth croun, And gif Gawan Ã¾e game.
Ãžen comaunded Ã¾e kyng Ã¾e kny3t for to ryse;And he ful radly vpros, and ruchched hym fayre,Kneled doun bifore Ã¾e kyng, and cachez Ã¾at weppen;And he luflyly hit hym laft, and lyfte vp his honde,And gef hym Goddez blessyng, and gladly hym biddesÃžat his hert and his honde schulde hardi be boÃ¾e.’Kepe Ã¾e cosyn,’ quoÃ¾ Ã¾e kyng, ‘Ã¾at Ã¾ou on kyrf sette,And if Ã¾ou rede3 hym ry3t, redly I troweÃžat Ã¾ou schal byden Ã¾e bur Ã¾at he schal bede after.’Gawan gotz to Ã¾e gome with giserne in honde,And he baldly hym bydez, he bayst neuer Ã¾e helder.Ãžen carppez to Sir Gawan Ã¾e kny3t in Ã¾e grene,’Refourme we oure forwardes, er we fyrre passe.Fyrst I eÃ¾e Ã¾e, haÃ¾el, how Ã¾at Ã¾ou hattesÃžat Ã¾ou me telle truly, as I tryst may.”In god fayth,’ quoÃ¾ Ã¾e goode kny3t, ‘Gawan I hatte,Ãžat bede Ã¾e Ã¾is buffet, quat-so bifallez after,And at Ã¾is tyme twelmonyth take at Ã¾e an oÃ¾erWyth what weppen so Ã¾ou wylt, and wyth no wy3 ellez on lyue.’ Ãžat oÃ¾er onswarez agayn, ‘Sir Gawan, so mot I Ã¾ryue As I am ferly fayn Ãžis dint Ã¾at Ã¾ou schal dryue.’Bigog,’ quoÃ¾ Ã¾e grene kny3t, ‘Sir Gawan, me lykesÃžat I schal fange at Ã¾y fust Ã¾at I haf frayst here.And Ã¾ou hatz redily rehersed, bi resoun ful trwe,
Clanly al Ã¾e couenaunt Ã¾at I Ã¾e kynge asked,Saf Ã¾at Ã¾ou schal siker me, segge, bi Ã¾i trawÃ¾e,Ãžat Ã¾ou schal seche me Ã¾iself, where-so Ã¾ou hopesI may be funde vpon folde, and foch Ã¾e such wagesAs Ã¾ou deles me to-day bifore Ã¾is douÃ¾e ryche.”Where schulde I wale Ã¾e,’ quoÃ¾ Gauan, ‘where is Ã¾y place?I wot neuer where Ã¾ou wonyes, bi hym Ã¾at me wro3t,Ne I know not Ã¾e, kny3t, by cort ne Ã¾i name.Bot teche me truly Ã¾erto, and telle me how Ã¾ou hattes,And I schal ware alle my wyt to wynne me Ã¾eder,
And Ã¾at I swere Ã¾e for soÃ¾e, and by my seker traweÃ¾.”Ãžat is innogh in Nwe 3er, hit nedes no more’,QuoÃ¾ Ã¾e gome in Ã¾e grene to Gawan Ã¾e hende;’3if I Ã¾e telle trwly, quen I Ã¾e tape haueAnd Ã¾ou me smoÃ¾ely hatz smyten, smartly I Ã¾e techeOf my hous and my home and myn owen nome,Ãžen may Ã¾ou frayst my fare and forwardez holde;And if I spende no speche, Ã¾enne spedez Ã¾ou Ã¾e better,For Ã¾ou may leng in Ã¾y londe and layt no fyrre — bot slokes! Ta now Ã¾y grymme tole to Ã¾e, And let se how Ã¾ou cnokez.’ ‘Gladly, sir, for soÃ¾e’, QuoÃ¾ Gawan; his ax he strokes.Ãže grene kny3t vpon grounde grayÃ¾ely hym dresses,A littel lut with Ã¾e hede, Ã¾e lere he discouerez,His longe louelych lokkez he layd ouer his croun,Let Ã¾e naked nec to Ã¾e note schewe.Gauan gripped to his ax, and gederes hit on hy3t,Ãže kay fot on Ã¾e folde he before sette,Let him doun ly3tly ly3t on Ã¾e naked,Ãžat Ã¾e scharp of Ã¾e schalk schyndered Ã¾e bones,And schrank Ã¾ur3 Ã¾e schyire grece, and schade hit in twynne,Ãžat Ã¾e bit of Ã¾e broun stel bot on Ã¾e grounde.Ãže fayre hede fro Ã¾e halce hit to Ã¾e erÃ¾e,Ãžat fele hit foyned wyth her fete, Ã¾ere hit forth roled;Ãže blod brayd fro Ã¾e body, Ã¾at blykked on Ã¾e grene;-13-
And nawÃ¾er faltered ne fel Ã¾e freke neuer Ã¾e helder,Bot styÃ¾ly he start forth vpon styf schonkes,And runyschly he ra3t out, Ã¾ere as renkkez stoden,La3t to his lufly hed, and lyft hit vp sone;And syÃ¾en bo3ez to his blonk, Ã¾e brydel he cachchez,Steppez into stelbawe and strydez alofte,And his hede by Ã¾e here in his honde haldez;And as sadly Ã¾e segge hym in his sadel setteAs non vnhap had hym ayled, Ã¾a3 hedlez he were in stedde. He brayde his bulk aboute,
Ãžat vgly bodi Ã¾at bledde; Moni on of hym had doute, Bi Ã¾at his resounz were redde.For Ã¾e hede in his honde he haldez vp euen,Toward Ã¾e derrest on Ã¾e dece he dressez Ã¾e face,And hit lyfte vp Ã¾e y3e-lyddez and loked ful brode,And meled Ã¾us much with his muthe, as 3e may now here:’Loke, Gawan, Ã¾ou be grayÃ¾e to go as Ã¾ou hettez,And layte as lelly til Ã¾ou me, lude, fynde,As Ã¾ou hatz hette in Ã¾is halle, herande Ã¾ise kny3tes;To Ã¾e grene chapel Ã¾ou chose, I charge Ã¾e, to fotteSuch a dunt as Ã¾ou hatz dalt — disserued Ã¾ou habbezTo be 3ederly 3olden on Nw 3eres morn.Ãže kny3t of Ã¾e grene chapel men knowen me mony;ForÃ¾i me for to fynde if Ã¾ou fraystez, faylez Ã¾ou neuer.Ãžerfore com, oÃ¾er recreaunt be calde Ã¾e behoues.’With a runisch rout Ã¾e raynez he tornez,Halled out at Ã¾e hal dor, his hed in his hande,Ãžat Ã¾e fyr of Ã¾e flynt fla3e fro fole houes.To quat kyth he becom knwe non Ã¾ere,Neuer more Ã¾en Ã¾ay wyste from queÃ¾en he watz wonnen. What Ã¾enne? Ãže kyng and Gawen Ã¾are At Ã¾at grene Ã¾ay la3e and grenne, 3et breued watz hit ful bare A meruayl among Ã¾o menne.