Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

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‘3e, Peter,’ quoþ þe porter, ‘and purely I troweeÞat 3e be, wy3e, welcum to won quyle yow lykez.’Þen 3ede þe wy3e 3erne and com a3ayn swyþe,And folke frely hym wyth, to fonge þe kny3t.Þay let doun þe grete dra3t and derely out 3eden,And kneled doun on her knes vpon þe colde erþeTo welcum þis ilk wy3 as worþy hom þo3t;Þay 3olden hym þe brode 3ate, 3arked vp wyde,And he hem raysed rekenly, and rod ouer þe brygge.Sere seggez hym sesed by sadel, quel he ly3t,And syþen stabeled his stede stif men inno3e.Kny3tez and swyerez comen doun þenneFor to bryng þis buurne wyth blys into halle;Quen he hef vp his helme, þer hi3ed innogheFor to hent hit at his honde, þe hende to seruen;His bronde and his blasoun boþe þay token.Þen haylsed he ful hendly þo haþelez vchone,And mony proud mon þer presed þat prynce to honour.Alle hasped in his he3 wede to halle þay hym wonnen,Þer fayre fyre vpon flet fersly brenned.Þenne þe lorde of þe lede loutez fro his chambre
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For to mete wyth menske þe mon on þe flor;He sayde, ‘3e ar welcum to welde as yow lykezÞat here is; al is yowre awen, to haue at yowre wylle and welde.’ ‘Graunt mercy,’ quoþ Gawayn, ‘Þer Kryst hit yow for3elde.’ As frekez þat semed fayn Ayþer oþer in armez con felde.Gawayn gly3t on þe gome þat godly hym gret,And þu3t hit a bolde burne þat þe bur3 a3te,A hoge haþel for þe nonez, and of hyghe eldee;Brode, bry3t, watz his berde, and al beuer-hwed,Sturne, stif on þe stryþþe on stalworth schonkez,Felle face as þe fyre, and fre of hys speche;And wel hym semed, for soþe, as þe segge þu3t,To lede a lortschyp in lee of leudez ful gode.

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Þe lorde hym charred to a chambre, and chefly cumaundezTo delyuer hym a leude, hym lo3ly to serue;And þere were boun at his bode burnez inno3e,Þat bro3t hym to a bry3t boure, þer beddyng watz noble,Of cortynes of clene sylk wyth cler golde hemmez,And couertorez ful curious with comlych panezOf bry3t blaunner aboue, enbrawded bisydez,Rudelez rennande on ropez, red golde ryngez,Tapitez ty3t to þe wo3e of tuly and tars,And vnder fete, on þe flet, of fol3ande sute.Þer he watz dispoyled, wyth spechez of myerþe,Þe burn of his bruny and of his bry3t wedez.Ryche robes ful rad renkkez hym bro3ten,For to charge, and to chaunge, and chose of þe best.Sone as he on hent, and happed þerinne,Þat sete on hym semly wyth saylande skyrtez,Þe ver by his uisage verayly hit semedWelne3 to vche haþel, alle on hwesLowande and lufly alle his lymmez vnder,Þat a comloker kny3t neuer Kryst made hem þo3t.
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Wheþen in worlde he were, Hit semed as he mo3t Be prynce withouten pere In felde þer felle men fo3t.A cheyer byfore þe chemné, þer charcole brenned,Watz grayþed for Sir Gawan grayþely with cloþez,Whyssynes vpon queldepoyntes þat koynt wer boþe;And þenne a meré mantyle watz on þat mon castOf a broun bleeaunt, enbrauded ful rycheAnd fayre furred wythinne with fellez of þe best,Alle of ermyn in erde, his hode of þe same;And he sete in þat settel semlych ryche,And achaufed hym chefly, and þenne his cher mended.Sone watz telded vp a tabil on trestez ful fayre,Clad wyth a clene cloþe þat cler quyt schewed,Sanap, and salure, and syluerin sponez.

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Þe wy3e wesche at his wylle, and went to his mete.Seggez hym serued semly inno3eWyth sere sewes and sete, sesounde of þe best.Double-felde, as hit fallez, and fele kyn fischez,Summe baken in bred, summe brad on þe gledez,Summe soþen, summe in sewe sauered with spyces,And ay sawes so sle3e þat þe segge lyked.Þe freke calde hit a fest ful frely and ofteFul hendely, quen alle þe haþeles rehayted hym at onez, ‘As hende, Þis penaunce now 3e take, And eft hit schal amende.’ Þat mon much merþe con make, For wyn in his hed þat wende.Þenne watz spyed and spured vpon spare wyseBi preué poyntez of þat prynce, put to hymseluen,Þat he beknew cortaysly of þe court þat he wereÞat aþel Arthure þe hende haldez hym one,Þat is þe ryche ryal kyng of þe Rounde Table,And hit watz Wawen hymself þat in þat won syttez,
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Comen to þat Krystmasse, as case hym þen lymped.When þe lorde hade lerned þat he þe leude hade,Loude la3ed he þerat, so lef hit hym þo3t,And alle þe men in þat mote maden much joyeTo apere in his presense prestly þat tyme,Þat alle prys and prowes and pured þewesApendes to hys persoun, and praysed is euer;Byfore alle men vpon molde his mensk is þe most.Vch segge ful softly sayde to his fere:’Now schal we semlych se sle3tez of þewezAnd þe teccheles termes of talkyng noble,Wich spede is in speche vnspurd may we lerne,Syn we haf fonged þat fyne fader of nurture.God hatz geuen vus his grace godly for soþe,Þat such a gest as Gawan grauntez vus to haue,When burnez blyþe of his burþe schal sitte and synge. In menyng of manerez mere