When he watz hasped in armes, his harnays watz ryche:Ãže lest lachet ouer loupe lemed of golde.So harnayst as he watz he herknez his masse,Offred and honoured at Ã¾e he3e auter.SyÃ¾en he comez to Ã¾e kyng and to his cort-ferez,Lachez lufly his leue at lordez and ladyez;And Ã¾ay hym kyst and conueyed, bikende hym to Kryst.Bi Ã¾at watz Gryngolet grayth, and gurde with a sadelÃžat glemed ful gayly with mony golde frenges,Ayquere naylet ful nwe, for Ã¾at note ryched;Ãže brydel barred aboute, with bry3t golde bounden;Ãže apparayl of Ã¾e payttrure and of Ã¾e proude skyrtez,Ãže cropore and Ã¾e couertor, acorded wyth Ã¾e arsounez;And al watz rayled on red ryche golde naylez,Ãžat al glytered and glent as glem of Ã¾e sunne.Ãženne hentes he Ã¾e helme, and hastily hit kysses,Ãžat watz stapled stifly, and stoffed wythinne.Hit watz hy3e on his hede, hasped bihynde,Wyth a ly3tly vrysoun ouer Ã¾e auentayle,Enbrawden and bounden wyth Ã¾e best gemmezOn brode sylkyn borde, and bryddez on semez,As papiayez paynted peruyng bitwene,Tortors and trulofez entayled so Ã¾ykAs mony burde Ã¾eraboute had ben seuen wynter in toune.
Ãže cercle watz more o prys Ãžat vmbeclypped hys croun, Of diamauntez a deuys Ãžat boÃ¾e were bry3t and broun.THEN Ã¾ay schewed hym Ã¾e schelde, Ã¾at was of schyr goulezWyth Ã¾e pentangel depaynt of pure golde hwez.He braydez hit by Ã¾e bauderyk, aboute Ã¾e hals kestes,Ãžat bisemed Ã¾e segge semlyly fayre.And quy Ã¾e pentangel apendez to Ã¾at prynce nobleI am in tent yow to telle, Ã¾of tary hyt me schulde:Hit is a syngne Ã¾at Salamon set sumquyleIn bytoknyng of trawÃ¾e, bi tytle Ã¾at hit habbez,
For hit is a figure Ã¾at haldez fyue poyntez,And vche lyne vmbelappez and loukez in oÃ¾er,And ayquere hit is endelez; and Englych hit callenOueral, as I here, Ã¾e endeles knot.ForÃ¾y hit acordez to Ã¾is kny3t and to his cler armez,For ay faythful in fyue and sere fyue syÃ¾ezGawan watz for gode knawen, and as golde pured,Voyded of vche vylany, wyth vertuez ennourned in mote; ForÃ¾y Ã¾e pentangel nwe He ber in schelde and cote, As tulk of tale most trwe And gentylest kny3t of lote.Fyrst he watz funden fautlez in his fyue wyttez,And efte fayled neuer Ã¾e freke in his fyue fyngres,And alle his afyaunce vpon folde watz in Ã¾e fyue woundezÃžat Cryst ka3t on Ã¾e croys, as Ã¾e crede tellez;And quere-so-euer Ã¾ys mon in melly watz stad,His Ã¾ro Ã¾o3t watz in Ã¾at, Ã¾ur3 alle oÃ¾er Ã¾yngez,Ãžat alle his forsnes he feng at Ã¾e fyue joyezÃžat Ã¾e hende heuen-quene had of hir chylde;At Ã¾is cause Ã¾e kny3t comlyche hadeIn Ã¾e inore half of his schelde hir ymage depaynted,Ãžat quen he blusched Ã¾erto his belde neuer payred.
Ãže fyft fyue Ã¾at I finde Ã¾at Ã¾e frek vsedWatz fraunchyse and fela3schyp forbe al Ã¾yng,His clannes and his cortaysye croked were neuer,And pitÃ©, Ã¾at passez alle poyntez, Ã¾yse pure fyueWere harder happed on Ã¾at haÃ¾el Ã¾en on any oÃ¾er.Now alle Ã¾ese fyue syÃ¾ez, for soÃ¾e, were fetled on Ã¾is kny3t,And vchone halched in oÃ¾er, Ã¾at non ende hade,And fyched vpon fyue poyntez, Ã¾at fayld neuer,Ne samned neuer in no syde, ne sundred nouÃ¾er,Withouten ende at any noke I oquere fynde,Whereeuer Ã¾e gomen bygan, or glod to an ende.Ãžerfore on his schene schelde schapen watz Ã¾e knotRyally wyth red golde vpon rede gowlez,
Ãžat is Ã¾e pure pentaungel wyth Ã¾e peple called with lore. Now grayÃ¾ed is Gawan gay, And la3t his launce ry3t Ã¾ore, And gef hem alle goud day, He wende for euermore.He sperred Ã¾e sted with Ã¾e spurez and sprong on his way,So stif Ã¾at Ã¾e ston-fyr stroke out Ã¾erafter.Al Ã¾at se3 Ã¾at semly syked in hert,And sayde soÃ¾ly al same segges til oÃ¾er,Carande for Ã¾at comly: ‘Bi Kryst, hit is scaÃ¾eÃžat Ã¾ou, leude, schal be lost, Ã¾at art of lyf noble!To fynde hys fere vpon folde, in fayth, is not eÃ¾e.Warloker to haf wro3t had more wyt bene,And haf dy3t 3onder dere a duk to haue worÃ¾ed;A lowande leder of ledez in londe hym wel semez,And so had better haf ben Ã¾en britned to no3t,Hadet wyth an aluisch mon, for angardez pryde.Who knew euer any kyng such counsel to takeAs kny3tez in cauelaciounz on Crystmasse gomnez!’Wel much watz Ã¾e warme water Ã¾at waltered of y3en,When Ã¾at semly syre so3t fro Ã¾o wonez Ã¾ad daye.
He made non abode, Bot wy3tly went hys way; Mony wylsum way he rode, Ãže bok as I herde say.Now ridez Ã¾is renk Ã¾ur3 Ã¾e ryalme of Logres,Sir Gauan, on Godez halue, Ã¾a3 hym no gomen Ã¾o3t.Oft leudlez alone he lengez on ny3tezÃžer he fonde no3t hym byfore Ã¾e fare Ã¾at he lyked.Hade he no fere bot his fole bi frythez and dounez,Ne no gome bot God bi gate wyth to karp,Til Ã¾at he ne3ed ful neghe into Ã¾e NorÃ¾e Walez.Alle Ã¾e iles of Anglesay on lyft half he haldez,And farez ouer Ã¾e fordez by Ã¾e forlondez,Ouer at Ã¾e Holy Hede, til he hade eft bonkIn Ã¾e wyldrenesse of Wyrale; wonde Ã¾er bot lyte