Sir Gawain and the Green Knight<\/a> <\/p>\n——————————————————————————–
\n2nd ed.edited by: J.R.R. Tolkien and E.V. Gordon. Revised by: Norman Davis xxviii, 232 p. : ill. ; 23 cm. : Clarendon PressOxford 1967 Note: The printed text contained illustrations which are not noted in the electronic textNote: First ed. published in 1925 Note: Includes bibliographical references (p. 153-156)<\/p>\n
Originally Published: 1400
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\n“folio” n=”91r”<\/p>\n
-1-<\/p>\n
SI\u00c3\u017eEN \u00c3\u00bee sege and \u00c3\u00bee assaut watz sesed at Troye,\u00c3\u017ee bor3 brittened and brent to bronde3 and askez,\u00c3\u017ee tulk \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bee trammes of tresoun \u00c3\u00beer wro3tWatz tried for his tricherie, \u00c3\u00bee trewest on er\u00c3\u00bee:Hit watz Ennias \u00c3\u00bee athel, and his highe kynde,\u00c3\u017eat si\u00c3\u00been depreced prouinces, and patrounes bicomeWelne3e of al \u00c3\u00bee wele in \u00c3\u00bee west iles.Fro riche Romulus to Rome ricchis hym swy\u00c3\u00bee,With gret bobbaunce \u00c3\u00beat bur3e he biges vpon fyrst,And neuenes hit his aune nome, as hit now hat;Tirius to Tuskan and teldes bigynnes,Langaberde in Lumbardie lyftes vp homes,And fer ouer \u00c3\u00bee French flod Felix BrutusOn mony bonkkes ful brode Bretayn he settez wyth wynne, Where werre and wrake and wonder Bi sy\u00c3\u00beez hatz wont \u00c3\u00beerinne, And oft bo\u00c3\u00bee blysse and blunder Ful skete hatz skyfted synne.Ande quen \u00c3\u00beis Bretayn watz bigged bi \u00c3\u00beis burn rych,Bolde bredden \u00c3\u00beerinne, baret \u00c3\u00beat lofden,In mony turned tyme tene \u00c3\u00beat wro3ten.Mo ferlyes on \u00c3\u00beis folde han fallen here oft\u00c3\u017een in any o\u00c3\u00beer \u00c3\u00beat I wot, syn \u00c3\u00beat ilk tyme.Bot of alle \u00c3\u00beat here bult, of Bretaygne kynges,Ay watz Arthur \u00c3\u00bee hendest, as I haf herde telle.<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”91v”<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
-2-<\/p>\n
For\u00c3\u00bei an aunter in erde I attle to schawe,\u00c3\u017eat a selly in si3t summe men hit holden,And an outtrage awenture of Arthurez wonderez.If 3e wyl lysten \u00c3\u00beis laye bot on littel quile,I schal telle hit as-tit, as I in toun herde, with tonge, As hit is stad and stoken In stori stif and stronge, With lel letteres loken, In londe so hatz ben longe.\u00c3\u017eis kyng lay at Camylot vpon KrystmasseWith mony luflych lorde, ledez of \u00c3\u00bee best,Rekenly of \u00c3\u00bee Rounde Table alle \u00c3\u00beo rich bre\u00c3\u00beer,With rych reuel ory3t and rechles mer\u00c3\u00bees.\u00c3\u017eer tournayed tulkes by tymez ful mony,Justed ful jolil\u00c3\u00a9 \u00c3\u00beise gentyle kni3tes,Sy\u00c3\u00been kayred to \u00c3\u00bee court caroles to make.For \u00c3\u00beer \u00c3\u00bee fest watz ilyche ful fiften dayes,With alle \u00c3\u00bee mete and \u00c3\u00bee mir\u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00beat men cou\u00c3\u00bee avyse;Such glaum ande gle glorious to here,Dere dyn vpon day, daunsyng on ny3tes,Al watz hap vpon he3e in hallez and chambrezWith lordez and ladies, as leuest him \u00c3\u00beo3t.With all \u00c3\u00bee wele of \u00c3\u00bee worlde \u00c3\u00beay woned \u00c3\u00beer samen,\u00c3\u017ee most kyd kny3tez vnder Krystes seluen,And \u00c3\u00bee louelokkest ladies \u00c3\u00beat euer lif haden,And he \u00c3\u00bee comlokest kyng \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bee court haldes;For al watz \u00c3\u00beis fayre folk in her first age, on sille, \u00c3\u017ee hapnest vnder heuen, Kyng hy3est mon of wylle; Hit were now gret nye to neuen So hardy a here on hille.Wyle Nw 3er watz so 3ep \u00c3\u00beat hit watz nwe cummen,\u00c3\u017eat day doubble on \u00c3\u00bee dece watz \u00c3\u00bee douth serued.Fro \u00c3\u00bee kyng watz cummen with kny3tes into \u00c3\u00bee halle,
\n-3-
\n\u00c3\u017ee chauntr\u00c3\u00a9 of \u00c3\u00bee chapel cheued to an ende,Loude crye watz \u00c3\u00beer kest of clerkez and o\u00c3\u00beer,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”92r”
\nNowel nayted onewe, neuened ful ofte;And sy\u00c3\u00been riche forth runnen to reche hondeselle,3e3ed 3eres-3iftes on hi3, 3elde hem bi hond,Debated busyly aboute \u00c3\u00beo giftes;Ladies la3ed ful loude, \u00c3\u00beo3 \u00c3\u00beay lost haden,And he \u00c3\u00beat wan watz not wrothe, \u00c3\u00beat may 3e wel trawe.Alle \u00c3\u00beis mir\u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00beay maden to \u00c3\u00bee mete tyme;When \u00c3\u00beay had waschen wor\u00c3\u00beyly \u00c3\u00beay wenten to sete,\u00c3\u017ee best burne ay abof, as hit best semed,Whene Guenore, ful gay, gray\u00c3\u00beed in \u00c3\u00bee myddes,Dressed on \u00c3\u00bee dere des, dubbed al aboute,Smal sendal bisides, a selure hir ouerOf tryed tolouse, and tars tapites innoghe,\u00c3\u017eat were enbrawded and beten wyth \u00c3\u00bee best gemmes\u00c3\u017eat my3t be preued of prys wyth penyes to bye, in daye. \u00c3\u017ee comlokest to discrye \u00c3\u017eer glent with y3en gray, A semloker \u00c3\u00beat euer he sy3e Soth mo3t no mon say.Bot Arthure wolde not ete til al were serued,He watz so joly of his joyfnes, and sumquat childgered:His lif liked hym ly3t, he louied \u00c3\u00bee lasseAu\u00c3\u00beer to longe lye or to longe sitte,So bisied him his 3onge blod and his brayn wylde.And also an o\u00c3\u00beer maner meued him eke\u00c3\u017eat he \u00c3\u00beur3 nobelay had nomen, he wolde neuer eteVpon such a dere day er hym deuised wereOf sum auenturus \u00c3\u00beyng an vncou\u00c3\u00bee tale,Of sum mayn meruayle, \u00c3\u00beat he my3t trawe,Of alderes, of armes, of o\u00c3\u00beer auenturus,O\u00c3\u00beer sum segg hym biso3t of sum siker kny3tTo joyne wyth hym in iustyng, in jopard\u00c3\u00a9 to lay,Lede, lif for lyf, leue vchon o\u00c3\u00beer,
\n-4-<\/p>\n
As fortune wolde fulsun hom, \u00c3\u00bee fayrer to haue.\u00c3\u017eis watz \u00c3\u00bee kynges countenaunce where he in court were,At vch farand fest among his fre meny<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”92v”
\nin halle. \u00c3\u017eerfore of face so fere He sti3tlez stif in stalle, Ful 3ep in \u00c3\u00beat Nw 3ere Much mirthe he mas withalle.Thus \u00c3\u00beer stondes in stale \u00c3\u00bee stif kyng hisseluen,Talkkande bifore \u00c3\u00bee hy3e table of trifles ful hende.There gode Gawan watz gray\u00c3\u00beed Gwenore bisyde,And Agrauayn a la dure mayn on \u00c3\u00beat o\u00c3\u00beer syde sittes,Bo\u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00bee kynges sistersunes and ful siker kni3tes;Bischop Bawdewyn abof biginez \u00c3\u00bee table,And Ywan, Vryn son, ette with hymseluen.\u00c3\u017eise were di3t on \u00c3\u00bee des and derwor\u00c3\u00bely serued,And si\u00c3\u00been mony siker segge at \u00c3\u00bee sidbordez.\u00c3\u017een \u00c3\u00bee first cors come with crakkyng of trumpes,Wyth mony baner ful bry3t \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00beerbi henged;Nwe nakryn noyse with \u00c3\u00bee noble pipes,Wylde werbles and wy3t wakned lote,\u00c3\u017eat mony hert ful hi3e hef at her towches.Daynt\u00c3\u00a9s dryuen \u00c3\u00beerwyth of ful dere metes,Foysoun of \u00c3\u00bee fresche, and on so fele disches\u00c3\u017eat pine to fynde \u00c3\u00bee place \u00c3\u00bee peple biforneFor to sette \u00c3\u00bee sylueren \u00c3\u00beat sere sewes halden on clothe. Iche lede as he loued hymselue \u00c3\u017eer laght withouten lo\u00c3\u00bee; Ay two had disches twelue, Good ber and bry3t wyn bo\u00c3\u00bee.Now wyl I of hor seruise say yow no more,For vch wy3e may wel wit no wont \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00beer were.An o\u00c3\u00beer noyse ful newe ne3ed biliue,\u00c3\u017eat \u00c3\u00bee lude my3t haf leue liflode to cach;
\n-5-<\/p>\n
For vne\u00c3\u00bee watz \u00c3\u00bee noyce not a whyle sesed,And \u00c3\u00bee fyrst cource in \u00c3\u00bee court kyndely serued,\u00c3\u017eer hales in at \u00c3\u00bee halle dor an aghlich mayster,On \u00c3\u00bee most on \u00c3\u00bee molde on mesure hyghe;Fro \u00c3\u00bee swyre to \u00c3\u00bee swange so sware and so \u00c3\u00beik,And his lyndes and his lymes so longe and so grete,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”93r”
\nHalf etayn in erde I hope \u00c3\u00beat he were,Bot mon most I algate mynn hym to bene,And \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bee myriest in his muckel \u00c3\u00beat my3t ride;For of bak and of brest al were his bodi sturne,Both his wombe and his wast were worthily smale,And alle his fetures fol3ande, in forme \u00c3\u00beat he hade, ful clene; For wonder of his hwe men hade, Set in his semblaunt sene; He ferde as freke were fade, And oueral enker-grene.Ande al gray\u00c3\u00beed in grene \u00c3\u00beis gome and his wedes:A strayte cote ful stre3t, \u00c3\u00beat stek on his sides,A mer\u00c3\u00a9 mantile abof, mensked withinneWith pelure pured apert, \u00c3\u00bee pane ful cleneWith bly\u00c3\u00bee blaunner ful bry3t, and his hod bo\u00c3\u00bee,\u00c3\u017eat watz la3t fro his lokkez and layde on his schulderes;Heme wel-haled hose of \u00c3\u00beat same,\u00c3\u017eat spenet on his sparlyr, and clene spures vnderOf bry3t golde, vpon silk bordes barred ful ryche,And scholes vnder schankes \u00c3\u00beere \u00c3\u00bee schalk rides;And alle his vesture uerayly watz clene verdure,Bo\u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00bee barres of his belt and o\u00c3\u00beer bly\u00c3\u00bee stones,\u00c3\u017eat were richely rayled in his aray cleneAboutte hymself and his sadel, vpon silk werkez.\u00c3\u017eat were to tor for to telle of tryfles \u00c3\u00bee halue\u00c3\u017eat were enbrauded abof, wyth bryddes and fly3es,With gay gaudi of grene, \u00c3\u00bee golde ay inmyddes.\u00c3\u017ee pendauntes of his payttrure, \u00c3\u00bee proude cropure,His molaynes, and alle \u00c3\u00bee metail anamayld was \u00c3\u00beenne,\u00c3\u017ee steropes \u00c3\u00beat he stod on stayned of \u00c3\u00bee same,
\n-6-<\/p>\n
And his arsounz al after and his a\u00c3\u00beel skyrtes,\u00c3\u017eat euer glemered and glent al of grene stones;\u00c3\u017ee fole \u00c3\u00beat he ferkkes on fyn of \u00c3\u00beat ilke, sertayn, A grene hors gret and \u00c3\u00beikke, A stede ful stif to strayne, In brawden brydel quik —<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”93v”
\nTo \u00c3\u00bee gome he watz ful gayn.Wel gay watz \u00c3\u00beis gome gered in grene,And \u00c3\u00bee here of his hed of his hors swete.Fayre fannand fax vmbefoldes his schulderes;A much berd as a busk ouer his brest henges,\u00c3\u017eat wyth his hi3lich here \u00c3\u00beat of his hed rechesWatz euesed al vmbetorne abof his elbowes,\u00c3\u017eat half his armes \u00c3\u00beer-vnder were halched in \u00c3\u00bee wyseOf a kyngez capados \u00c3\u00beat closes his swyre;\u00c3\u017ee mane of \u00c3\u00beat mayn hors much to hit lyke,Wel cresped and cemmed, wyth knottes ful monyFolden in wyth fildore aboute \u00c3\u00bee fayre grene,Ay a herle of \u00c3\u00bee here, an o\u00c3\u00beer of golde;\u00c3\u017ee tayl and his toppyng twynnen of a sute,And bounden bo\u00c3\u00bee wyth a bande of a bry3t grene,Dubbed wyth ful dere stonez, as \u00c3\u00bee dok lasted,Sy\u00c3\u00been \u00c3\u00berawen wyth a \u00c3\u00bewong a \u00c3\u00bewarle knot alofte,\u00c3\u017eer mony bellez ful bry3t of brende golde rungen.Such a fole vpon folde, ne freke \u00c3\u00beat hym rydes,Watz neuer sene in \u00c3\u00beat sale wyth sy3t er \u00c3\u00beat tyme, with y3e. He loked as layt so ly3t, So sayd al \u00c3\u00beat hym sy3e; Hit semed as no mon my3t Vnder his dynttez dry3e.Whe\u00c3\u00beer hade he no helme ne hawbergh nau\u00c3\u00beer,Ne no pysan ne no plate \u00c3\u00beat pented to armes,Ne no schafte ne no schelde to schwue ne to smyte,Bot in his on honde he hade a holyn bobbe,
\n-7-<\/p>\n
\u00c3\u017eat is grattest in grene when greuez ar bare,And an ax in his o\u00c3\u00beer, a hoge and vnmete,A spetos spar\u00c3\u00bee to expoun in spelle, quoso my3t.\u00c3\u017ee lenk\u00c3\u00bee of an eln3erde \u00c3\u00bee large hede hade,\u00c3\u017ee grayn al of grene stele and of golde hewen,\u00c3\u017ee bit burnyst bry3t, with a brod eggeAs wel schapen to schere as scharp rasores,\u00c3\u017ee stele of a stif staf \u00c3\u00bee sturne hit bi grypte,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”94r”
\n\u00c3\u017eat watz wounden wyth yrn to \u00c3\u00bee wandez ende,And al bigrauen with grene in gracios werkes;A lace lapped aboute, \u00c3\u00beat louked at \u00c3\u00bee hede,And so after \u00c3\u00bee halme halched ful ofte,Wyth tryed tasselez \u00c3\u00beerto tacched innogheOn botounz of \u00c3\u00bee bry3t grene brayden ful ryche.\u00c3\u017eis ha\u00c3\u00beel heldez hym in and \u00c3\u00bee halle entres,Driuande to \u00c3\u00bee he3e dece, dut he no wo\u00c3\u00bee,Haylsed he neuer one, bot he3e he ouer loked.\u00c3\u017ee fyrst word \u00c3\u00beat he warp, ‘Wher is’, he sayd,’\u00c3\u017ee gouernour of \u00c3\u00beis gyng? Gladly I woldeSe \u00c3\u00beat segg in sy3t, and with hymself speke raysoun.’ To kny3tez he kest his y3e, And reled hym vp and doun; He stemmed, and con studie Quo walt \u00c3\u00beer most renoun.Ther watz lokyng on len\u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00bee lude to beholde,For vch mon had meruayle quat hit mene my3t\u00c3\u017eat a ha\u00c3\u00beel and a horse my3t such a hwe lach,As growe grene as \u00c3\u00bee gres and grener hit semed,\u00c3\u017een grene aumayl on golde glowande bry3ter.Al studied \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00beer stod, and stalked hym nerreWyth al \u00c3\u00bee wonder of \u00c3\u00bee worlde what he worch schulde.For fele sellyez had \u00c3\u00beay sen, bot such neuer are;For\u00c3\u00bei for fantoum and fayry3e \u00c3\u00bee folk \u00c3\u00beere hit demed.\u00c3\u017eerfore to answare watz ar3e mony a\u00c3\u00beel freke,And al stouned at his steuen and stonstil setenIn a swoghe sylence \u00c3\u00beur3 \u00c3\u00bee sale riche;
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\n-8-<\/p>\n
As al were slypped vpon slepe so slaked hor lotez in hy3e — I deme hit not al for doute, Bot sum for cortaysye — Bot let hym \u00c3\u00beat al schulde loute Cast vnto \u00c3\u00beat wy3e.\u00c3\u017eenn Ar\u00c3\u00beour bifore \u00c3\u00bee hi3 dece \u00c3\u00beat auenture byholdez,And rekenly hym reuerenced, for rad was he neuer,And sayde, ‘Wy3e, welcum iwys to \u00c3\u00beis place,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”94v”
\n\u00c3\u017ee hede of \u00c3\u00beis ostel Arthour I hat;Li3t luflych adoun and lenge, I \u00c3\u00bee praye,And quat-so \u00c3\u00bey wylle is we schal wyt after.”Nay, as help me,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee ha\u00c3\u00beel, ‘he \u00c3\u00beat on hy3e syttes,To wone any quyle in \u00c3\u00beis won, hit watz not myn ernde;Bot for \u00c3\u00bee los of \u00c3\u00bee, lede, is lyft vp so hy3e,And \u00c3\u00bey bur3 and \u00c3\u00bey burnes best ar holden,Stifest vnder stel-gere on stedes to ryde,\u00c3\u017ee wy3test and \u00c3\u00bee wor\u00c3\u00beyest of \u00c3\u00bee worldes kynde,Preue for to play wyth in o\u00c3\u00beer pure laykez,And here is kydde cortaysye, as I haf herd carp,And \u00c3\u00beat hatz wayned me hider, iwyis, at \u00c3\u00beis tyme.3e may be seker bi \u00c3\u00beis braunch \u00c3\u00beat I bere here\u00c3\u017eat I passe as in pes, and no ply3t seche;For had I founded in fere in fe3tyng wyse,I haue a hauberghe at home and a helme bo\u00c3\u00bee,A schelde and a scharp spere, schinande bry3t,Ande o\u00c3\u00beer weppenes to welde, I wene wel, als;Bot for I wolde no were, my wedez ar softer.Bot if \u00c3\u00beou be so bold as alle burnez tellen,\u00c3\u017eou wyl grant me godly \u00c3\u00bee gomen \u00c3\u00beat I ask bi ry3t.’ Arthour con onsware, And sayd, ‘Sir cortays kny3t, If \u00c3\u00beou craue batayl bare, Here faylez \u00c3\u00beou not to fy3t.”Nay, frayst I no fy3t, in fayth I \u00c3\u00bee telle,Hit arn aboute on \u00c3\u00beis bench bot berdlez chylder.If I were hasped in armes on a he3e stede,
\n-9-<\/p>\n
Here is no mon me to mach, for my3tez so wayke.For\u00c3\u00bey I craue in \u00c3\u00beis court a Crystemas gomen,For hit is 3ol and Nwe 3er, and here ar 3ep mony:If any so hardy in \u00c3\u00beis hous holdez hymseluen,Be so bolde in his blod, brayn in hys hede,\u00c3\u017eat dar stifly strike a strok for an o\u00c3\u00beer,I schal gif hym of my gyft \u00c3\u00beys giserne ryche,\u00c3\u017eis ax, \u00c3\u00beat is heu\u00c3\u00a9 innogh, to hondele as hym lykes,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”95r”
\nAnd I schal bide \u00c3\u00bee fyrst bur as bare as I sitte.If any freke be so felle to fonde \u00c3\u00beat I telle,Lepe ly3tly me to, and lach \u00c3\u00beis weppen,I quit-clayme hit for euer, kepe hit as his auen,And I schal stonde hym a strok, stif on \u00c3\u00beis flet,Ellez \u00c3\u00beou wyl di3t me \u00c3\u00bee dom to dele hym an o\u00c3\u00beer barlay, And 3et gif hym respite, A twelmonyth and a day; Now hy3e, and let se tite Dar any herinne o3t say.’If he hem stowned vpon fyrst, stiller were \u00c3\u00beanneAlle \u00c3\u00bee heredmen in halle, \u00c3\u00bee hy3 and \u00c3\u00bee lo3e.\u00c3\u017ee renk on his rounc\u00c3\u00a9 hym ruched in his sadel,And runischly his rede y3en he reled aboute,Bende his bresed bro3ez, blycande grene,Wayued his berde for to wayte quo-so wolde ryse.When non wolde kepe hym with carp he co3ed ful hy3e,Ande rimed hym ful richly, and ry3t hym to speke:’What, is \u00c3\u00beis Arthures hous,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee ha\u00c3\u00beel \u00c3\u00beenne,’\u00c3\u017eat al \u00c3\u00bee rous rennes of \u00c3\u00beur3 ryalmes so mony?Where is now your sourquydrye and your conquestes,Your gryndellayk and your greme, and your grete wordes?Now is \u00c3\u00bee reuel and \u00c3\u00bee renoun of \u00c3\u00bee Rounde TableOuerwalt wyth a worde of on wy3es speche,For al dares for drede withoute dynt schewed!’Wyth \u00c3\u00beis he la3es so loude \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bee lorde greued;\u00c3\u017ee blod schot for scham into his schyre face and lere;
\n-10-<\/p>\n
He wex as wroth as wynde, So did alle \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00beer were. \u00c3\u017ee kyng as kene bi kynde \u00c3\u017een stod \u00c3\u00beat stif mon nere,Ande sayde, ‘Ha\u00c3\u00beel, by heuen, \u00c3\u00beyn askyng is nys,And as \u00c3\u00beou foly hatz frayst, fynde \u00c3\u00bee behoues.I know no gome \u00c3\u00beat is gast of \u00c3\u00bey grete wordes;Gif me now \u00c3\u00bey geserne, vpon Godez halue,And I schal bay\u00c3\u00been \u00c3\u00bey bone \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00beou boden habbes.’<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”95v”
\nLy3tly lepez he hym to, and la3t at his honde.\u00c3\u017een feersly \u00c3\u00beat o\u00c3\u00beer freke vpon fote ly3tis.Now hatz Arthure his axe, and \u00c3\u00bee halme grypez,And sturnely sturez hit aboute, \u00c3\u00beat stryke wyth hit \u00c3\u00beo3t.\u00c3\u017ee stif mon hym bifore stod vpon hy3t,Herre \u00c3\u00been ani in \u00c3\u00bee hous by \u00c3\u00bee hede and more.Wyth sturne schere \u00c3\u00beer he stod he stroked his berde,And wyth a countenaunce dry3e he dro3 doun his cote,No more mate ne dismayd for hys mayn dintez\u00c3\u017een any burne vpon bench hade bro3t hym to drynk of wyne. Gawan, \u00c3\u00beat sate bi \u00c3\u00bee quene, To \u00c3\u00bee kyng he can enclyne: ‘I beseche now with sa3ez sene \u00c3\u017eis melly mot be myne.’Wolde 3e, wor\u00c3\u00beilych lorde,’ quo\u00c3\u00be Wawan to \u00c3\u00bee kyng,’Bid me bo3e fro \u00c3\u00beis benche, and stonde by yow \u00c3\u00beere,\u00c3\u017eat I wythoute vylanye my3t voyde \u00c3\u00beis table,And \u00c3\u00beat my legge lady lyked not ille,I wolde com to your counseyl bifore your cort ryche.For me \u00c3\u00beink hit not semly, as hit is so\u00c3\u00be knawen,\u00c3\u017eer such an askyng is heuened so hy3e in your sale,\u00c3\u017ea3 3e 3ourself be talenttyf, to take hit to yourseluen,Whil mony so bolde yow aboute vpon bench sytten,\u00c3\u017eat vnder heuen I hope non ha3erer of wylle,Ne better bodyes on bent \u00c3\u00beer baret is rered.I am \u00c3\u00bee wakkest, I wot, and of wyt feblest,And lest lur of my lyf, quo laytes \u00c3\u00bee so\u00c3\u00bee —
\n-11-<\/p>\n
Bot for as much as 3e ar myn em I am only to prayse,No bount\u00c3\u00a9 bot your blod I in my bod\u00c3\u00a9 knowe;And sy\u00c3\u00been \u00c3\u00beis note is so nys \u00c3\u00beat no3t hit yow falles,And I haue frayned hit at yow fyrst, foldez hit to me;And if I carp not comlyly, let alle \u00c3\u00beis cort rych bout blame.’ Ryche togeder con roun, And sy\u00c3\u00been \u00c3\u00beay redden alle same To ryd \u00c3\u00bee kyng wyth croun, And gif Gawan \u00c3\u00bee game.<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”96r”
\n\u00c3\u017een comaunded \u00c3\u00bee kyng \u00c3\u00bee kny3t for to ryse;And he ful radly vpros, and ruchched hym fayre,Kneled doun bifore \u00c3\u00bee kyng, and cachez \u00c3\u00beat weppen;And he luflyly hit hym laft, and lyfte vp his honde,And gef hym Goddez blessyng, and gladly hym biddes\u00c3\u017eat his hert and his honde schulde hardi be bo\u00c3\u00bee.’Kepe \u00c3\u00bee cosyn,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee kyng, ‘\u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00beou on kyrf sette,And if \u00c3\u00beou rede3 hym ry3t, redly I trowe\u00c3\u017eat \u00c3\u00beou schal byden \u00c3\u00bee bur \u00c3\u00beat he schal bede after.’Gawan gotz to \u00c3\u00bee gome with giserne in honde,And he baldly hym bydez, he bayst neuer \u00c3\u00bee helder.\u00c3\u017een carppez to Sir Gawan \u00c3\u00bee kny3t in \u00c3\u00bee grene,’Refourme we oure forwardes, er we fyrre passe.Fyrst I e\u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00bee, ha\u00c3\u00beel, how \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00beou hattes\u00c3\u017eat \u00c3\u00beou me telle truly, as I tryst may.”In god fayth,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee goode kny3t, ‘Gawan I hatte,\u00c3\u017eat bede \u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00beis buffet, quat-so bifallez after,And at \u00c3\u00beis tyme twelmonyth take at \u00c3\u00bee an o\u00c3\u00beerWyth what weppen so \u00c3\u00beou wylt, and wyth no wy3 ellez on lyue.’ \u00c3\u017eat o\u00c3\u00beer onswarez agayn, ‘Sir Gawan, so mot I \u00c3\u00beryue As I am ferly fayn \u00c3\u017eis dint \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00beou schal dryue.’Bigog,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee grene kny3t, ‘Sir Gawan, me lykes\u00c3\u017eat I schal fange at \u00c3\u00bey fust \u00c3\u00beat I haf frayst here.And \u00c3\u00beou hatz redily rehersed, bi resoun ful trwe,
\n-12-<\/p>\n
Clanly al \u00c3\u00bee couenaunt \u00c3\u00beat I \u00c3\u00bee kynge asked,Saf \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00beou schal siker me, segge, bi \u00c3\u00bei traw\u00c3\u00bee,\u00c3\u017eat \u00c3\u00beou schal seche me \u00c3\u00beiself, where-so \u00c3\u00beou hopesI may be funde vpon folde, and foch \u00c3\u00bee such wagesAs \u00c3\u00beou deles me to-day bifore \u00c3\u00beis dou\u00c3\u00bee ryche.”Where schulde I wale \u00c3\u00bee,’ quo\u00c3\u00be Gauan, ‘where is \u00c3\u00bey place?I wot neuer where \u00c3\u00beou wonyes, bi hym \u00c3\u00beat me wro3t,Ne I know not \u00c3\u00bee, kny3t, by cort ne \u00c3\u00bei name.Bot teche me truly \u00c3\u00beerto, and telle me how \u00c3\u00beou hattes,And I schal ware alle my wyt to wynne me \u00c3\u00beeder,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”96v”
\nAnd \u00c3\u00beat I swere \u00c3\u00bee for so\u00c3\u00bee, and by my seker trawe\u00c3\u00be.”\u00c3\u017eat is innogh in Nwe 3er, hit nedes no more’,Quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee gome in \u00c3\u00bee grene to Gawan \u00c3\u00bee hende;’3if I \u00c3\u00bee telle trwly, quen I \u00c3\u00bee tape haueAnd \u00c3\u00beou me smo\u00c3\u00beely hatz smyten, smartly I \u00c3\u00bee techeOf my hous and my home and myn owen nome,\u00c3\u017een may \u00c3\u00beou frayst my fare and forwardez holde;And if I spende no speche, \u00c3\u00beenne spedez \u00c3\u00beou \u00c3\u00bee better,For \u00c3\u00beou may leng in \u00c3\u00bey londe and layt no fyrre — bot slokes! Ta now \u00c3\u00bey grymme tole to \u00c3\u00bee, And let se how \u00c3\u00beou cnokez.’ ‘Gladly, sir, for so\u00c3\u00bee’, Quo\u00c3\u00be Gawan; his ax he strokes.\u00c3\u017ee grene kny3t vpon grounde gray\u00c3\u00beely hym dresses,A littel lut with \u00c3\u00bee hede, \u00c3\u00bee lere he discouerez,His longe louelych lokkez he layd ouer his croun,Let \u00c3\u00bee naked nec to \u00c3\u00bee note schewe.Gauan gripped to his ax, and gederes hit on hy3t,\u00c3\u017ee kay fot on \u00c3\u00bee folde he before sette,Let him doun ly3tly ly3t on \u00c3\u00bee naked,\u00c3\u017eat \u00c3\u00bee scharp of \u00c3\u00bee schalk schyndered \u00c3\u00bee bones,And schrank \u00c3\u00beur3 \u00c3\u00bee schyire grece, and schade hit in twynne,\u00c3\u017eat \u00c3\u00bee bit of \u00c3\u00bee broun stel bot on \u00c3\u00bee grounde.\u00c3\u017ee fayre hede fro \u00c3\u00bee halce hit to \u00c3\u00bee er\u00c3\u00bee,\u00c3\u017eat fele hit foyned wyth her fete, \u00c3\u00beere hit forth roled;\u00c3\u017ee blod brayd fro \u00c3\u00bee body, \u00c3\u00beat blykked on \u00c3\u00bee grene;-13-<\/p>\n
And naw\u00c3\u00beer faltered ne fel \u00c3\u00bee freke neuer \u00c3\u00bee helder,Bot sty\u00c3\u00bely he start forth vpon styf schonkes,And runyschly he ra3t out, \u00c3\u00beere as renkkez stoden,La3t to his lufly hed, and lyft hit vp sone;And sy\u00c3\u00been bo3ez to his blonk, \u00c3\u00bee brydel he cachchez,Steppez into stelbawe and strydez alofte,And his hede by \u00c3\u00bee here in his honde haldez;And as sadly \u00c3\u00bee segge hym in his sadel setteAs non vnhap had hym ayled, \u00c3\u00bea3 hedlez he were in stedde. He brayde his bulk aboute,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”97r”
\n\u00c3\u017eat vgly bodi \u00c3\u00beat bledde; Moni on of hym had doute, Bi \u00c3\u00beat his resounz were redde.For \u00c3\u00bee hede in his honde he haldez vp euen,Toward \u00c3\u00bee derrest on \u00c3\u00bee dece he dressez \u00c3\u00bee face,And hit lyfte vp \u00c3\u00bee y3e-lyddez and loked ful brode,And meled \u00c3\u00beus much with his muthe, as 3e may now here:’Loke, Gawan, \u00c3\u00beou be gray\u00c3\u00bee to go as \u00c3\u00beou hettez,And layte as lelly til \u00c3\u00beou me, lude, fynde,As \u00c3\u00beou hatz hette in \u00c3\u00beis halle, herande \u00c3\u00beise kny3tes;To \u00c3\u00bee grene chapel \u00c3\u00beou chose, I charge \u00c3\u00bee, to fotteSuch a dunt as \u00c3\u00beou hatz dalt — disserued \u00c3\u00beou habbezTo be 3ederly 3olden on Nw 3eres morn.\u00c3\u017ee kny3t of \u00c3\u00bee grene chapel men knowen me mony;For\u00c3\u00bei me for to fynde if \u00c3\u00beou fraystez, faylez \u00c3\u00beou neuer.\u00c3\u017eerfore com, o\u00c3\u00beer recreaunt be calde \u00c3\u00bee behoues.’With a runisch rout \u00c3\u00bee raynez he tornez,Halled out at \u00c3\u00bee hal dor, his hed in his hande,\u00c3\u017eat \u00c3\u00bee fyr of \u00c3\u00bee flynt fla3e fro fole houes.To quat kyth he becom knwe non \u00c3\u00beere,Neuer more \u00c3\u00been \u00c3\u00beay wyste from que\u00c3\u00been he watz wonnen. What \u00c3\u00beenne? \u00c3\u017ee kyng and Gawen \u00c3\u00beare At \u00c3\u00beat grene \u00c3\u00beay la3e and grenne, 3et breued watz hit ful bare A meruayl among \u00c3\u00beo menne.
\n-14-<\/p>\n
\u00c3\u017ea3 Ar\u00c3\u00beer \u00c3\u00bee hende kyng at hert hade wonder,He let no semblaunt be sene, bot sayde ful hy3eTo \u00c3\u00bee comlych quene wyth cortays speche,’Dere dame, to-day demay yow neuer;Wel bycommes such craft vpon Cristmasse,Laykyng of enterludez, to la3e and to syng,Among \u00c3\u00beise kynde caroles of kny3tez and ladyez.Neuer \u00c3\u00bee lece to my mete I may me wel dres,For I haf sen a selly, I may not forsake.’He glent vpon Sir Gawen, and gaynly he sayde,’Now, sir, heng vp \u00c3\u00beyn ax, \u00c3\u00beat hatz innogh hewen’;<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”97v”
\nAnd hit watz don abof \u00c3\u00bee dece on doser to henge,\u00c3\u017eer alle men for meruayl my3t on hit loke,And bi trwe tytel \u00c3\u00beerof to telle \u00c3\u00bee wonder.\u00c3\u017eenne \u00c3\u00beay bo3ed to a borde \u00c3\u00beise burnes togeder,\u00c3\u017ee kyng and \u00c3\u00bee gode kny3t, and kene men hem seruedOf alle dayntyez double, as derrest my3t falle;Wyth alle maner of mete and mynstralcie bo\u00c3\u00bee,Wyth wele walt \u00c3\u00beday, til wor\u00c3\u00beed an ende in londe. Now \u00c3\u00beenk wel, Sir Gawan, For wo\u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00beou ne wonde \u00c3\u017eis auenture for to frayn \u00c3\u017eat \u00c3\u00beou hatz tan on honde.THIS hanselle hatz Arthur of auenturus on fyrstIn 3onge 3er, for he 3erned 3elpyng to here.Tha3 hym wordez were wane when \u00c3\u00beay to sete wenten,Now ar \u00c3\u00beay stoken of sturne werk, stafful her hond.Gawan watz glad to begynne \u00c3\u00beose gomnez in halle,Bot \u00c3\u00bea3 \u00c3\u00bee ende be heuy haf 3e no wonder;For \u00c3\u00bea3 men ben mery in mynde quen \u00c3\u00beay han mayn drynk,A 3ere 3ernes ful 3erne, and 3eldez neuer lyke,\u00c3\u017ee forme to \u00c3\u00bee fynisment foldez ful selden.For\u00c3\u00bei \u00c3\u00beis 3ol ouer3ede, and \u00c3\u00bee 3ere after,And vche sesoun serlepes sued after o\u00c3\u00beer:
\n-15-<\/p>\n
After Crystenmasse com \u00c3\u00bee crabbed lentoun,\u00c3\u017eat fraystez flesch wyth \u00c3\u00bee fysche and fode more symple;Bot \u00c3\u00beenne \u00c3\u00bee weder of \u00c3\u00bee worlde wyth wynter hit \u00c3\u00berepez,Colde clengez adoun, cloudez vplyften,Schyre schedez \u00c3\u00bee rayn in schowrez ful warme,Fallez vpon fayre flat, flowrez \u00c3\u00beere schewen,Bo\u00c3\u00bee groundez and \u00c3\u00bee greuez grene ar her wedez,Bryddez busken to bylde, and bremlych syngenFor solace of \u00c3\u00bee softe somer \u00c3\u00beat sues \u00c3\u00beerafter bi bonk; And blossumez bolne to blowe Bi rawez rych and ronk, \u00c3\u017een notez noble inno3e<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”98r”
\nAr herde in wod so wlonk.After \u00c3\u00bee sesoun of somer wyth \u00c3\u00bee soft wyndezQuen Zeferus syflez hymself on sedez and erbez,Wela wynne is \u00c3\u00bee wort \u00c3\u00beat waxes \u00c3\u00beeroute,When \u00c3\u00bee donkande dewe dropez of \u00c3\u00bee leuez,To bide a blysful blusch of \u00c3\u00bee bry3t sunne.Bot \u00c3\u00been hy3es heruest, and hardenes hym sone,Warnez hym for \u00c3\u00bee wynter to wax ful rype;He dryues wyth dro3t \u00c3\u00bee dust for to ryse,Fro \u00c3\u00bee face of \u00c3\u00bee folde to fly3e ful hy3e;Wro\u00c3\u00bee wynde of \u00c3\u00bee welkyn wrastelez with \u00c3\u00bee sunne,\u00c3\u017ee leuez lancen fro \u00c3\u00bee lynde and ly3ten on \u00c3\u00bee grounde,And al grayes \u00c3\u00bee gres \u00c3\u00beat grene watz ere;\u00c3\u017eenne al rypez and rotez \u00c3\u00beat ros vpon fyrst,And \u00c3\u00beus 3irnez \u00c3\u00bee 3ere in 3isterdayez mony,And wynter wyndez a3ayn, as \u00c3\u00bee worlde askez, no fage, Til Me3elmas mone Wat3 cumen wyth wynter wage; \u00c3\u017een \u00c3\u00beenkkez Gawan ful sone Of his anious uyage.3et quyl Al-hal-day with Ar\u00c3\u00beer he lenges;And he made a fare on \u00c3\u00beat fest for \u00c3\u00bee frekez sake,With much reuel and ryche of \u00c3\u00bee Rounde Table.
\n-16-<\/p>\n
Kny3tez ful cortays and comlych ladiesAl for luf of \u00c3\u00beat lede in longynge \u00c3\u00beay were,Bot neuer \u00c3\u00bee lece ne \u00c3\u00bee later \u00c3\u00beay neuened bot mer\u00c3\u00bee:Mony ioylez for \u00c3\u00beat ientyle iapez \u00c3\u00beer maden.For aftter mete with mournyng he melez to his eme,And spekez of his passage, and pertly he sayde,’Now, lege lorde of my lyf, leue I yow ask;3e knowe \u00c3\u00bee cost of \u00c3\u00beis cace, kepe I no moreTo telle yow tenez \u00c3\u00beerof neuer bot trifel;Bot I am boun to \u00c3\u00bee bur barely to-morneTo sech \u00c3\u00bee gome of \u00c3\u00bee grene, as God wyl me wysse.’\u00c3\u017eenne \u00c3\u00bee best of \u00c3\u00bee bur3 bo3ed togeder,Aywan, and Errik, and o\u00c3\u00beer ful mony,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”98v”
\nSir Doddinaual de Sauage, \u00c3\u00bee duk of Clarence,Launcelot, and Lyonel, and Lucan \u00c3\u00bee gode,Sir Boos, and Sir Byduer, big men bo\u00c3\u00bee,And mony o\u00c3\u00beer menskful, with Mador de la Port.Alle \u00c3\u00beis compayny of court com \u00c3\u00bee kyng nerreFor to counseyl \u00c3\u00bee kny3t, with care at her hert.\u00c3\u017eere watz much derue doel driuen in \u00c3\u00bee sale\u00c3\u017eat so wor\u00c3\u00be\u00c3\u00a9 as Wawan schulde wende on \u00c3\u00beat ernde,To dry3e a delful dynt, and dele no more wyth bronde. \u00c3\u017ee kny3t mad ay god chere, And sayde, ‘Quat schuld I wonde? Of destin\u00c3\u00a9s derf and dere What may mon do bot fonde?’He dowellez \u00c3\u00beer al \u00c3\u00beat day, and dressez on \u00c3\u00bee morn,Askez erly hys armez, and alle were \u00c3\u00beay bro3t.Fyrst a tul\u00c3\u00a9 tapit ty3t ouer \u00c3\u00bee flet,And miche watz \u00c3\u00bee gyld gere \u00c3\u00beat glent \u00c3\u00beeralofte;\u00c3\u017ee stif mon steppez \u00c3\u00beeron, and \u00c3\u00bee stel hondelez,Dubbed in a dublet of a dere tars,And sy\u00c3\u00been a crafty capados, closed aloft,\u00c3\u017eat wyth a bry3t blaunner was bounden withinne.\u00c3\u017eenne set \u00c3\u00beay \u00c3\u00bee sabatounz vpon \u00c3\u00bee segge fotez,His legez lapped in stel with luflych greuez,With polaynez piched \u00c3\u00beerto, policed ful clene,Aboute his knez knaged wyth knotez of golde;
\n-17-<\/p>\n
Queme quyssewes \u00c3\u00been, \u00c3\u00beat coyntlych closedHis thik \u00c3\u00berawen \u00c3\u00bey3ez, with \u00c3\u00bewonges to tachched;And sy\u00c3\u00been \u00c3\u00bee brawden bryn\u00c3\u00a9 of bry3t stel ryngezVmbeweued \u00c3\u00beat wy3 vpon wlonk stuffe,And wel bornyst brace vpon his bo\u00c3\u00bee armes,With gode cowters and gay, and glouez of plate,And alle \u00c3\u00bee godlych gere \u00c3\u00beat hym gayn schulde \u00c3\u00beat tyde; Wyth ryche cote-armure, His gold sporez spend with pryde, Gurde wyth a bront ful sure With silk sayn vmbe his syde.<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”99r”
\nWhen he watz hasped in armes, his harnays watz ryche:\u00c3\u017ee lest lachet ouer loupe lemed of golde.So harnayst as he watz he herknez his masse,Offred and honoured at \u00c3\u00bee he3e auter.Sy\u00c3\u00been he comez to \u00c3\u00bee kyng and to his cort-ferez,Lachez lufly his leue at lordez and ladyez;And \u00c3\u00beay hym kyst and conueyed, bikende hym to Kryst.Bi \u00c3\u00beat watz Gryngolet grayth, and gurde with a sadel\u00c3\u017eat glemed ful gayly with mony golde frenges,Ayquere naylet ful nwe, for \u00c3\u00beat note ryched;\u00c3\u017ee brydel barred aboute, with bry3t golde bounden;\u00c3\u017ee apparayl of \u00c3\u00bee payttrure and of \u00c3\u00bee proude skyrtez,\u00c3\u017ee cropore and \u00c3\u00bee couertor, acorded wyth \u00c3\u00bee arsounez;And al watz rayled on red ryche golde naylez,\u00c3\u017eat al glytered and glent as glem of \u00c3\u00bee sunne.\u00c3\u017eenne hentes he \u00c3\u00bee helme, and hastily hit kysses,\u00c3\u017eat watz stapled stifly, and stoffed wythinne.Hit watz hy3e on his hede, hasped bihynde,Wyth a ly3tly vrysoun ouer \u00c3\u00bee auentayle,Enbrawden and bounden wyth \u00c3\u00bee best gemmezOn brode sylkyn borde, and bryddez on semez,As papiayez paynted peruyng bitwene,Tortors and trulofez entayled so \u00c3\u00beykAs mony burde \u00c3\u00beeraboute had ben seuen wynter in toune.
\n-18-<\/p>\n
\u00c3\u017ee cercle watz more o prys \u00c3\u017eat vmbeclypped hys croun, Of diamauntez a deuys \u00c3\u017eat bo\u00c3\u00bee were bry3t and broun.THEN \u00c3\u00beay schewed hym \u00c3\u00bee schelde, \u00c3\u00beat was of schyr goulezWyth \u00c3\u00bee pentangel depaynt of pure golde hwez.He braydez hit by \u00c3\u00bee bauderyk, aboute \u00c3\u00bee hals kestes,\u00c3\u017eat bisemed \u00c3\u00bee segge semlyly fayre.And quy \u00c3\u00bee pentangel apendez to \u00c3\u00beat prynce nobleI am in tent yow to telle, \u00c3\u00beof tary hyt me schulde:Hit is a syngne \u00c3\u00beat Salamon set sumquyleIn bytoknyng of traw\u00c3\u00bee, bi tytle \u00c3\u00beat hit habbez,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”99v”
\nFor hit is a figure \u00c3\u00beat haldez fyue poyntez,And vche lyne vmbelappez and loukez in o\u00c3\u00beer,And ayquere hit is endelez; and Englych hit callenOueral, as I here, \u00c3\u00bee endeles knot.For\u00c3\u00bey hit acordez to \u00c3\u00beis kny3t and to his cler armez,For ay faythful in fyue and sere fyue sy\u00c3\u00beezGawan watz for gode knawen, and as golde pured,Voyded of vche vylany, wyth vertuez ennourned in mote; For\u00c3\u00bey \u00c3\u00bee 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 \u00c3\u00bee freke in his fyue fyngres,And alle his afyaunce vpon folde watz in \u00c3\u00bee fyue woundez\u00c3\u017eat Cryst ka3t on \u00c3\u00bee croys, as \u00c3\u00bee crede tellez;And quere-so-euer \u00c3\u00beys mon in melly watz stad,His \u00c3\u00bero \u00c3\u00beo3t watz in \u00c3\u00beat, \u00c3\u00beur3 alle o\u00c3\u00beer \u00c3\u00beyngez,\u00c3\u017eat alle his forsnes he feng at \u00c3\u00bee fyue joyez\u00c3\u017eat \u00c3\u00bee hende heuen-quene had of hir chylde;At \u00c3\u00beis cause \u00c3\u00bee kny3t comlyche hadeIn \u00c3\u00bee inore half of his schelde hir ymage depaynted,\u00c3\u017eat quen he blusched \u00c3\u00beerto his belde neuer payred.
\n-19-<\/p>\n
\u00c3\u017ee fyft fyue \u00c3\u00beat I finde \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bee frek vsedWatz fraunchyse and fela3schyp forbe al \u00c3\u00beyng,His clannes and his cortaysye croked were neuer,And pit\u00c3\u00a9, \u00c3\u00beat passez alle poyntez, \u00c3\u00beyse pure fyueWere harder happed on \u00c3\u00beat ha\u00c3\u00beel \u00c3\u00been on any o\u00c3\u00beer.Now alle \u00c3\u00beese fyue sy\u00c3\u00beez, for so\u00c3\u00bee, were fetled on \u00c3\u00beis kny3t,And vchone halched in o\u00c3\u00beer, \u00c3\u00beat non ende hade,And fyched vpon fyue poyntez, \u00c3\u00beat fayld neuer,Ne samned neuer in no syde, ne sundred nou\u00c3\u00beer,Withouten ende at any noke I oquere fynde,Whereeuer \u00c3\u00bee gomen bygan, or glod to an ende.\u00c3\u017eerfore on his schene schelde schapen watz \u00c3\u00bee knotRyally wyth red golde vpon rede gowlez,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”100r”
\n\u00c3\u017eat is \u00c3\u00bee pure pentaungel wyth \u00c3\u00bee peple called with lore. Now gray\u00c3\u00beed is Gawan gay, And la3t his launce ry3t \u00c3\u00beore, And gef hem alle goud day, He wende for euermore.He sperred \u00c3\u00bee sted with \u00c3\u00bee spurez and sprong on his way,So stif \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bee ston-fyr stroke out \u00c3\u00beerafter.Al \u00c3\u00beat se3 \u00c3\u00beat semly syked in hert,And sayde so\u00c3\u00bely al same segges til o\u00c3\u00beer,Carande for \u00c3\u00beat comly: ‘Bi Kryst, hit is sca\u00c3\u00bee\u00c3\u017eat \u00c3\u00beou, leude, schal be lost, \u00c3\u00beat art of lyf noble!To fynde hys fere vpon folde, in fayth, is not e\u00c3\u00bee.Warloker to haf wro3t had more wyt bene,And haf dy3t 3onder dere a duk to haue wor\u00c3\u00beed;A lowande leder of ledez in londe hym wel semez,And so had better haf ben \u00c3\u00been 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 \u00c3\u00bee warme water \u00c3\u00beat waltered of y3en,When \u00c3\u00beat semly syre so3t fro \u00c3\u00beo wonez \u00c3\u00bead daye.
\n-20-<\/p>\n
He made non abode, Bot wy3tly went hys way; Mony wylsum way he rode, \u00c3\u017ee bok as I herde say.Now ridez \u00c3\u00beis renk \u00c3\u00beur3 \u00c3\u00bee ryalme of Logres,Sir Gauan, on Godez halue, \u00c3\u00bea3 hym no gomen \u00c3\u00beo3t.Oft leudlez alone he lengez on ny3tez\u00c3\u017eer he fonde no3t hym byfore \u00c3\u00bee fare \u00c3\u00beat he lyked.Hade he no fere bot his fole bi frythez and dounez,Ne no gome bot God bi gate wyth to karp,Til \u00c3\u00beat he ne3ed ful neghe into \u00c3\u00bee Nor\u00c3\u00bee Walez.Alle \u00c3\u00bee iles of Anglesay on lyft half he haldez,And farez ouer \u00c3\u00bee fordez by \u00c3\u00bee forlondez,Ouer at \u00c3\u00bee Holy Hede, til he hade eft bonkIn \u00c3\u00bee wyldrenesse of Wyrale; wonde \u00c3\u00beer bot lyte<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”100v”
\n\u00c3\u017eat au\u00c3\u00beer God o\u00c3\u00beer gome wyth goud hert louied.And ay he frayned, as he ferde, at frekez \u00c3\u00beat he met,If \u00c3\u00beay hade herde any karp of a kny3t grene,In any grounde \u00c3\u00beeraboute, of \u00c3\u00bee grene chapel;And al nykked hym wyth nay, \u00c3\u00beat neuer in her lyue\u00c3\u017eay se3e neuer no segge \u00c3\u00beat watz of suche hwez of grene. \u00c3\u017ee kny3t tok gates straunge In mony a bonk vnbene, His cher ful oft con chaunge \u00c3\u017eat chapel er he my3t sene.Mony klyf he ouerclambe in contrayez straunge,Fer floten fro his frendez fremedly he rydez.At vche war\u00c3\u00bee o\u00c3\u00beer water \u00c3\u00beer \u00c3\u00bee wy3e passedHe fonde a foo hym byfore, bot ferly hit were,And \u00c3\u00beat so foule and so felle \u00c3\u00beat fe3t hym byhode.So mony meruayl bi mount \u00c3\u00beer \u00c3\u00bee mon fyndez,Hit were to tore for to telle of \u00c3\u00bee ten\u00c3\u00bee dole.Sumwhyle wyth wormez he werrez, and with wolues als,Sumwhyle wyth wodwos, \u00c3\u00beat woned in \u00c3\u00bee knarrez,Bo\u00c3\u00bee wyth bullez and berez, and borez o\u00c3\u00beerquyle,And etaynez, \u00c3\u00beat hym anelede of \u00c3\u00bee he3e felle;
\n-21-<\/p>\n
Nade he ben du3ty and dry3e, and Dry3tyn had serued,Douteles he hade ben ded and dreped ful ofte.For werre wrathed hym not so much \u00c3\u00beat wynter nas wors,When \u00c3\u00bee colde cler water fro \u00c3\u00bee cloudez schadde,And fres er hit falle my3t to \u00c3\u00bee fale er\u00c3\u00bee;Ner slayn wyth \u00c3\u00bee slete he sleped in his yrnesMo ny3tez \u00c3\u00been innoghe in naked rokkez,\u00c3\u017eer as claterande fro \u00c3\u00bee crest \u00c3\u00bee colde borne rennez,And henged he3e ouer his hede in hard iisse-ikkles.\u00c3\u017eus in peryl and payne and plytes ful hardeBi contray cayrez \u00c3\u00beis kny3t, tyl Krystmasse euen, al one; \u00c3\u017ee kny3t wel \u00c3\u00beat tyde To Mary made his mone, \u00c3\u017eat ho hym red to ryde<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”101r”
\nAnd wysse hym to sum wone.Bi a mounte on \u00c3\u00bee morne meryly he rydesInto a forest ful dep, \u00c3\u00beat ferly watz wylde,Hi3e hillez on vche a halue, and holtwodez vnderOf hore okez ful hoge a hundreth togeder;\u00c3\u017ee hasel and \u00c3\u00bee ha3\u00c3\u00beorne were harled al samen,With ro3e raged mosse rayled aywhere,With mony bryddez vnbly\u00c3\u00bee vpon bare twyges,\u00c3\u017eat pitosly \u00c3\u00beer piped for pyne of \u00c3\u00bee colde.\u00c3\u017ee gome vpon Gryngolet glydez hem vnder,\u00c3\u017eur3 mony misy and myre, mon al hym one,Carande for his costes, lest he ne keuer schuldeTo se \u00c3\u00bee seruyse of \u00c3\u00beat syre, \u00c3\u00beat on \u00c3\u00beat self ny3tOf a burde watz borne oure baret to quelle;And \u00c3\u00beerfore sykyng he sayde, ‘I beseche \u00c3\u00bee, lorde,And Mary, \u00c3\u00beat is myldest moder so dere,Of sum herber \u00c3\u00beer he3ly I my3t here masse,Ande \u00c3\u00bey matynez to-morne, mekely I ask,And \u00c3\u00beerto prestly I pray my pater and aue and crede.’ He rode in his prayere, And cryed for his mysdede,
\n-22-<\/p>\n
He sayned hym in sy\u00c3\u00bees sere, And sayde ‘Cros Kryst me spede!’NADE he sayned hymself, segge, bot \u00c3\u00berye,Er he watz war in \u00c3\u00bee wod of a won in a mote,Abof a launde, on a lawe, loken vnder bo3ezOf mony borelych bole aboute bi \u00c3\u00bee diches:A castel \u00c3\u00bee comlokest \u00c3\u00beat euer kny3t a3te,Pyched on a prayere, a park al aboute,With a pyked palays pyned ful \u00c3\u00beik,\u00c3\u017eat vmbete3e mony tre mo \u00c3\u00been two myle.\u00c3\u017eat holde on \u00c3\u00beat on syde \u00c3\u00bee ha\u00c3\u00beel auysed,As hit schemered and schon \u00c3\u00beur3 \u00c3\u00bee schyre okez;\u00c3\u017eenne hatz he hendly of his helme, and he3ly he \u00c3\u00beonkezJesus and sayn Gilyan, \u00c3\u00beat gentyle ar bo\u00c3\u00bee,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”101v”
\n\u00c3\u017eat cortaysly had hym kydde, and his cry herkened.’Now bone hostel,’ co\u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00bee burne, ‘I beseche yow 3ette!’\u00c3\u017eenne gerdez he to Gryngolet with \u00c3\u00bee gilt helez,And he ful chauncely hatz chosen to \u00c3\u00bee chef gate,\u00c3\u017eat bro3t bremly \u00c3\u00bee burne to \u00c3\u00bee bryge ende in haste. \u00c3\u017ee bryge watz breme vpbrayde, \u00c3\u017ee 3atez wer stoken faste, \u00c3\u017ee wallez were wel arayed, Hit dut no wyndez blaste.\u00c3\u017ee burne bode on blonk, \u00c3\u00beat on bonk houedOf \u00c3\u00bee depe double dich \u00c3\u00beat drof to \u00c3\u00bee place;\u00c3\u017ee walle wod in \u00c3\u00bee water wonderly depe,Ande eft a ful huge he3t hit haled vpon lofteOf harde hewen ston vp to \u00c3\u00bee tablez,Enbaned vnder \u00c3\u00bee abataylment in \u00c3\u00bee best lawe;And sy\u00c3\u00been garytez ful gaye gered bitwene,Wyth mony luflych loupe \u00c3\u00beat louked ful clene:A better barbican \u00c3\u00beat burne blusched vpon neuer.And innermore he behelde \u00c3\u00beat halle ful hy3e,Towres telded bytwene, trochet ful \u00c3\u00beik,Fayre fylyolez \u00c3\u00beat fy3ed, and ferlyly long,-23-<\/p>\n
With coruon coprounes craftyly sle3e.Chalkwhyt chymnees \u00c3\u00beer ches he inno3eVpon bastel rouez, \u00c3\u00beat blenked ful quyte;So mony pynakle payntet watz poudred ayquere,Among \u00c3\u00bee castel carnelez clambred so \u00c3\u00beik,\u00c3\u017eat pared out of papure purely hit semed.\u00c3\u017ee fre freke on \u00c3\u00bee fole hit fayr innoghe \u00c3\u00beo3t,If he my3t keuer to com \u00c3\u00bee cloyster wythinne,To herber in \u00c3\u00beat hostel whyl halyday lested, auinant. He calde, and sone \u00c3\u00beer com A porter pure plesaunt, On \u00c3\u00bee wal his ernd he nome, And haylsed \u00c3\u00bee kny3t erraunt.’Gode sir,’ quo\u00c3\u00be Gawan, ‘woldez \u00c3\u00beou go myn erndeTo \u00c3\u00bee he3 lorde of \u00c3\u00beis hous, herber to craue?’<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”102r”
\n‘3e, Peter,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee porter, ‘and purely I trowee\u00c3\u017eat 3e be, wy3e, welcum to won quyle yow lykez.’\u00c3\u017een 3ede \u00c3\u00bee wy3e 3erne and com a3ayn swy\u00c3\u00bee,And folke frely hym wyth, to fonge \u00c3\u00bee kny3t.\u00c3\u017eay let doun \u00c3\u00bee grete dra3t and derely out 3eden,And kneled doun on her knes vpon \u00c3\u00bee colde er\u00c3\u00beeTo welcum \u00c3\u00beis ilk wy3 as wor\u00c3\u00bey hom \u00c3\u00beo3t;\u00c3\u017eay 3olden hym \u00c3\u00bee brode 3ate, 3arked vp wyde,And he hem raysed rekenly, and rod ouer \u00c3\u00bee brygge.Sere seggez hym sesed by sadel, quel he ly3t,And sy\u00c3\u00been stabeled his stede stif men inno3e.Kny3tez and swyerez comen doun \u00c3\u00beenneFor to bryng \u00c3\u00beis buurne wyth blys into halle;Quen he hef vp his helme, \u00c3\u00beer hi3ed innogheFor to hent hit at his honde, \u00c3\u00bee hende to seruen;His bronde and his blasoun bo\u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00beay token.\u00c3\u017een haylsed he ful hendly \u00c3\u00beo ha\u00c3\u00beelez vchone,And mony proud mon \u00c3\u00beer presed \u00c3\u00beat prynce to honour.Alle hasped in his he3 wede to halle \u00c3\u00beay hym wonnen,\u00c3\u017eer fayre fyre vpon flet fersly brenned.\u00c3\u017eenne \u00c3\u00bee lorde of \u00c3\u00bee lede loutez fro his chambre
\n-24-<\/p>\n
For to mete wyth menske \u00c3\u00bee mon on \u00c3\u00bee flor;He sayde, ‘3e ar welcum to welde as yow lykez\u00c3\u017eat here is; al is yowre awen, to haue at yowre wylle and welde.’ ‘Graunt mercy,’ quo\u00c3\u00be Gawayn, ‘\u00c3\u017eer Kryst hit yow for3elde.’ As frekez \u00c3\u00beat semed fayn Ay\u00c3\u00beer o\u00c3\u00beer in armez con felde.Gawayn gly3t on \u00c3\u00bee gome \u00c3\u00beat godly hym gret,And \u00c3\u00beu3t hit a bolde burne \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bee bur3 a3te,A hoge ha\u00c3\u00beel for \u00c3\u00bee nonez, and of hyghe eldee;Brode, bry3t, watz his berde, and al beuer-hwed,Sturne, stif on \u00c3\u00bee stry\u00c3\u00be\u00c3\u00bee on stalworth schonkez,Felle face as \u00c3\u00bee fyre, and fre of hys speche;And wel hym semed, for so\u00c3\u00bee, as \u00c3\u00bee segge \u00c3\u00beu3t,To lede a lortschyp in lee of leudez ful gode.<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”102v”
\n\u00c3\u017ee lorde hym charred to a chambre, and chefly cumaundezTo delyuer hym a leude, hym lo3ly to serue;And \u00c3\u00beere were boun at his bode burnez inno3e,\u00c3\u017eat bro3t hym to a bry3t boure, \u00c3\u00beer 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 \u00c3\u00bee wo3e of tuly and tars,And vnder fete, on \u00c3\u00bee flet, of fol3ande sute.\u00c3\u017eer he watz dispoyled, wyth spechez of myer\u00c3\u00bee,\u00c3\u017ee 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 \u00c3\u00bee best.Sone as he on hent, and happed \u00c3\u00beerinne,\u00c3\u017eat sete on hym semly wyth saylande skyrtez,\u00c3\u017ee ver by his uisage verayly hit semedWelne3 to vche ha\u00c3\u00beel, alle on hwesLowande and lufly alle his lymmez vnder,\u00c3\u017eat a comloker kny3t neuer Kryst made hem \u00c3\u00beo3t.
\n-25-<\/p>\n
Whe\u00c3\u00been in worlde he were, Hit semed as he mo3t Be prynce withouten pere In felde \u00c3\u00beer felle men fo3t.A cheyer byfore \u00c3\u00bee chemn\u00c3\u00a9, \u00c3\u00beer charcole brenned,Watz gray\u00c3\u00beed for Sir Gawan gray\u00c3\u00beely with clo\u00c3\u00beez,Whyssynes vpon queldepoyntes \u00c3\u00beat koynt wer bo\u00c3\u00bee;And \u00c3\u00beenne a mer\u00c3\u00a9 mantyle watz on \u00c3\u00beat mon castOf a broun bleeaunt, enbrauded ful rycheAnd fayre furred wythinne with fellez of \u00c3\u00bee best,Alle of ermyn in erde, his hode of \u00c3\u00bee same;And he sete in \u00c3\u00beat settel semlych ryche,And achaufed hym chefly, and \u00c3\u00beenne his cher mended.Sone watz telded vp a tabil on trestez ful fayre,Clad wyth a clene clo\u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00beat cler quyt schewed,Sanap, and salure, and syluerin sponez.<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”103r”
\n\u00c3\u017ee wy3e wesche at his wylle, and went to his mete.Seggez hym serued semly inno3eWyth sere sewes and sete, sesounde of \u00c3\u00bee best.Double-felde, as hit fallez, and fele kyn fischez,Summe baken in bred, summe brad on \u00c3\u00bee gledez,Summe so\u00c3\u00been, summe in sewe sauered with spyces,And ay sawes so sle3e \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bee segge lyked.\u00c3\u017ee freke calde hit a fest ful frely and ofteFul hendely, quen alle \u00c3\u00bee ha\u00c3\u00beeles rehayted hym at onez, ‘As hende, \u00c3\u017eis penaunce now 3e take, And eft hit schal amende.’ \u00c3\u017eat mon much mer\u00c3\u00bee con make, For wyn in his hed \u00c3\u00beat wende.\u00c3\u017eenne watz spyed and spured vpon spare wyseBi preu\u00c3\u00a9 poyntez of \u00c3\u00beat prynce, put to hymseluen,\u00c3\u017eat he beknew cortaysly of \u00c3\u00bee court \u00c3\u00beat he were\u00c3\u017eat a\u00c3\u00beel Arthure \u00c3\u00bee hende haldez hym one,\u00c3\u017eat is \u00c3\u00bee ryche ryal kyng of \u00c3\u00bee Rounde Table,And hit watz Wawen hymself \u00c3\u00beat in \u00c3\u00beat won syttez,
\n-26-<\/p>\n
Comen to \u00c3\u00beat Krystmasse, as case hym \u00c3\u00been lymped.When \u00c3\u00bee lorde hade lerned \u00c3\u00beat he \u00c3\u00bee leude hade,Loude la3ed he \u00c3\u00beerat, so lef hit hym \u00c3\u00beo3t,And alle \u00c3\u00bee men in \u00c3\u00beat mote maden much joyeTo apere in his presense prestly \u00c3\u00beat tyme,\u00c3\u017eat alle prys and prowes and pured \u00c3\u00beewesApendes to hys persoun, and praysed is euer;Byfore alle men vpon molde his mensk is \u00c3\u00bee most.Vch segge ful softly sayde to his fere:’Now schal we semlych se sle3tez of \u00c3\u00beewezAnd \u00c3\u00bee teccheles termes of talkyng noble,Wich spede is in speche vnspurd may we lerne,Syn we haf fonged \u00c3\u00beat fyne fader of nurture.God hatz geuen vus his grace godly for so\u00c3\u00bee,\u00c3\u017eat such a gest as Gawan grauntez vus to haue,When burnez bly\u00c3\u00bee of his bur\u00c3\u00bee schal sitte and synge. In menyng of manerez mere<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”103v”
\n\u00c3\u017eis burne now schal vus bryng, I hope \u00c3\u00beat may hym here Schal lerne of luf-talkyng.’Bi \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bee diner watz done and \u00c3\u00bee dere vpHit watz ne3 at \u00c3\u00bee niy3t ne3ed \u00c3\u00bee tyme.Chaplaynez to \u00c3\u00bee chapeles chosen \u00c3\u00bee gate,Rungen ful rychely, ry3t as \u00c3\u00beay schulden,To \u00c3\u00bee hersum euensong of \u00c3\u00bee hy3e tyde.\u00c3\u017ee lorde loutes \u00c3\u00beerto, and \u00c3\u00bee lady als,Into a cumly closet coyntly ho entrez.Gawan glydez ful gay and gos \u00c3\u00beeder sone;\u00c3\u017ee lorde laches hym by \u00c3\u00bee lappe and ledez hym to sytte,And cou\u00c3\u00bely hym knowez and callez hym his nome,And sayde he watz \u00c3\u00bee welcomest wy3e of \u00c3\u00bee worlde;And he hym \u00c3\u00beonkked \u00c3\u00beroly, and ay\u00c3\u00beer halched o\u00c3\u00beer,And seten soberly samen \u00c3\u00bee seruise quyle.\u00c3\u017eenne lyst \u00c3\u00bee lady to loke on \u00c3\u00bee kny3t,\u00c3\u017eenne com ho of hir closet with mony cler burdez.Ho watz \u00c3\u00bee fayrest in felle, of flesche and of lyre,And of compas and colour and costes, of alle o\u00c3\u00beer,
\n-27-<\/p>\n
And wener \u00c3\u00been Wenore, as \u00c3\u00bee wy3e \u00c3\u00beo3t.Ho ches \u00c3\u00beur3 \u00c3\u00bee chaunsel to cheryche \u00c3\u00beat hende.An o\u00c3\u00beer lady hir lad bi \u00c3\u00bee lyft honde,\u00c3\u017eat watz alder \u00c3\u00been ho, an auncian hit semed,And he3ly honowred with ha\u00c3\u00beelez aboute.Bot vnlyke on to loke \u00c3\u00beo ladyes were,For if \u00c3\u00bee 3onge watz 3ep, 3ol3e watz \u00c3\u00beat o\u00c3\u00beer;Riche red on \u00c3\u00beat on rayled ayquere,Rugh ronkled chekez \u00c3\u00beat o\u00c3\u00beer on rolled;Kerchofes of \u00c3\u00beat on, wyth mony cler perlez,Hir brest and hir bry3t \u00c3\u00berote bare displayed,Schon schyrer \u00c3\u00been snawe \u00c3\u00beat schedez on hillez;\u00c3\u017eat o\u00c3\u00beer wyth a gorger watz gered ouer \u00c3\u00bee swyre,Chymbled ouer hir blake chyn with chalkquyte vayles,Hir frount folden in sylk, enfoubled ayquere,Toreted and treleted with tryflez aboute,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”104r”
\n\u00c3\u017eat no3t watz bare of \u00c3\u00beat burde bot \u00c3\u00bee blake bro3es,\u00c3\u017ee tweyne y3en and \u00c3\u00bee nase, \u00c3\u00bee naked lyppez,And \u00c3\u00beose were soure to se and sellyly blered;A mensk lady on molde mon may hir calle, for Gode! Hir body watz schort and \u00c3\u00beik, Hir buttokez bal3 and brode, More lykkerwys on to lyk Watz \u00c3\u00beat scho hade on lode.When Gawayn gly3t on \u00c3\u00beat gay, \u00c3\u00beat graciously loked,Wyth leue la3t of \u00c3\u00bee lorde he lent hem a3aynes;\u00c3\u017ee alder he haylses, heldande ful lowe,\u00c3\u017ee loueloker he lappez a lyttel in armez,He kysses hir comlyly, and kny3tly he melez.\u00c3\u017eay kallen hym of aquoyntaunce, and he hit quyk askezTo be her seruaunt sothly, if hemself lyked.\u00c3\u017eay tan hym bytwene hem, wyth talkyng hym ledenTo chambre, to chemn\u00c3\u00a9, and chefly \u00c3\u00beay askenSpycez, \u00c3\u00beat vnsparely men speded hom to bryng,And \u00c3\u00bee wynnelych wyne \u00c3\u00beerwith vche tyme.\u00c3\u017ee lorde luflych aloft lepez ful ofte,
\n-28-<\/p>\n
Mynned merthe to be made vpon mony sy\u00c3\u00beez,Hent he3ly of his hode, and on a spere henged,And wayned hom to wynne \u00c3\u00bee worchip \u00c3\u00beerof,\u00c3\u017eat most myr\u00c3\u00bee my3t meue \u00c3\u00beat Crystenmas whyle — ‘And I schal fonde, bi my fayth, to fylter wyth \u00c3\u00bee bestEr me wont \u00c3\u00bee wede, with help of my frendez.’\u00c3\u017eus wyth la3ande lotez \u00c3\u00bee lorde hit tayt makez,For to glade Sir Gawayn with gomnez in halle \u00c3\u00beat ny3t, Til \u00c3\u00beat hit watz tyme \u00c3\u017ee lord comaundet ly3t; Sir Gawen his leue con nyme And to his bed hym di3t.On \u00c3\u00bee morne, as vch mon mynez \u00c3\u00beat tyme\u00c3\u017eat Dry3tyn for oure destyn\u00c3\u00a9 to de3e watz borne,Wele waxez in vche a won in worlde for his sake;So did hit \u00c3\u00beere on \u00c3\u00beat day \u00c3\u00beur3 daynt\u00c3\u00a9s mony:
\n“folio” n=”104v”
\nBo\u00c3\u00bee at mes and at mele messes ful quayntDerf men vpon dece drest of \u00c3\u00bee best.\u00c3\u017ee olde auncian wyf he3est ho syttez,\u00c3\u017ee lorde lufly her by lent, as I trowe;Gawan and \u00c3\u00bee gay burde togeder \u00c3\u00beay seten,Euen inmyddez, as \u00c3\u00bee messe metely come,And sy\u00c3\u00been \u00c3\u00beur3 al \u00c3\u00bee sale as hem best semed.Bi vche grome at his degr\u00c3\u00a9 gray\u00c3\u00beely watz serued\u00c3\u017eer watz mete, \u00c3\u00beer watz myr\u00c3\u00bee, \u00c3\u00beer watz much ioye,\u00c3\u017eat for to telle \u00c3\u00beerof hit me tene were,And to poynte hit 3et I pyned me parauenture.Bot 3et I wot \u00c3\u00beat Wawen and \u00c3\u00bee wale burdeSuch comfort of her compaynye ca3ten togeder\u00c3\u017eur3 her dere dalyaunce of her derne wordez,Wyth clene cortays carp closed fro fyl\u00c3\u00bee,\u00c3\u017eat hor play watz passande vche prynce gomen, in vayres. Trumpez and nakerys, Much pypyng \u00c3\u00beer repayres; Vche mon tented hys, And \u00c3\u00beay two tented \u00c3\u00beayres.-29-<\/p>\n
Much dut watz \u00c3\u00beer dryuen \u00c3\u00beat day and \u00c3\u00beat o\u00c3\u00beer,And \u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00beryd as \u00c3\u00bero \u00c3\u00beronge in \u00c3\u00beerafter;\u00c3\u017ee ioye of sayn Jonez day watz gentyle to here,And watz \u00c3\u00bee last of \u00c3\u00bee layk, leudez \u00c3\u00beer \u00c3\u00beo3ten.\u00c3\u017eer wer gestes to go vpon \u00c3\u00bee gray morne,For\u00c3\u00bey wonderly \u00c3\u00beay woke, and \u00c3\u00bee wyn dronken,Daunsed ful dre3ly wyth dere carolez.At \u00c3\u00bee last, when hit watz late, \u00c3\u00beay lachen her leue,Vchon to wende on his way \u00c3\u00beat watz wy3e stronge.Gawan gef hym god day, \u00c3\u00bee godmon hym lachchez,Ledes hym to his awen chambre, \u00c3\u00bee chymn\u00c3\u00a9 bysyde,And \u00c3\u00beere he dra3ez hym on dry3e, and derely hym \u00c3\u00beonkkezOf \u00c3\u00bee wynne worschip \u00c3\u00beat he hym wayued hade,As to honour his hous on \u00c3\u00beat hy3e tyde,And enbelyse his bur3 with his bele chere:’Iwysse sir, quyl I leue, me wor\u00c3\u00beez \u00c3\u00bee better
\n“folio” n=”105r”
\n\u00c3\u017eat Gawayn hatz ben my gest at Goddez awen fest.”Grant merci, sir,’ quo\u00c3\u00be Gawayn, ‘in god fayth hit is yowrez,Al \u00c3\u00bee honour is your awen — \u00c3\u00bee he3e kyng yow 3elde!And I am wy3e at your wylle to worch youre hest,As I am halden \u00c3\u00beerto, in hy3e and in lo3e, bi ri3t.’ \u00c3\u017ee lorde fast can hym payne To holde lenger \u00c3\u00bee kny3t; To hym answarez Gawayn Bi non way \u00c3\u00beat he my3t.Then frayned \u00c3\u00bee freke ful fayre at himseluenQuat derue dede had hym dryuen at \u00c3\u00beat dere tymeSo kenly fro \u00c3\u00bee kyngez kourt to kayre al his one,Er \u00c3\u00bee halidayez holly were halet out of toun.’For so\u00c3\u00bee, sir,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee segge, ‘3e sayn bot \u00c3\u00bee traw\u00c3\u00bee,A he3e ernde and a hasty me hade fro \u00c3\u00beo wonez,For I am sumned myselfe to sech to a place,I ne wot in worlde whederwarde to wende hit to fynde.I nolde bot if I hit negh my3t on Nw 3eres morneFor alle \u00c3\u00bee londe inwyth Logres, so me oure lorde help!For\u00c3\u00bey, sir, \u00c3\u00beis enquest I require yow here,\u00c3\u017eat 3e me telle with traw\u00c3\u00bee if euer 3e tale herde
\n-30-<\/p>\n
Of \u00c3\u00bee grene chapel, quere hit on grounde stondez,And of \u00c3\u00bee kny3t \u00c3\u00beat hit kepes, of colour of grene.\u00c3\u017eer watz stabled bi statut a steuen vus bytweneTo mete \u00c3\u00beat mon at \u00c3\u00beat mere, 3if I my3t last;And of \u00c3\u00beat ilk Nw 3ere bot neked now wontez,And I wolde loke on \u00c3\u00beat lede, if God me let wolde,Gladloker, bi Goddez sun, \u00c3\u00been any god welde!For\u00c3\u00bei, iwysse, bi 3owre wylle, wende me bihoues,Naf I now to busy bot bare \u00c3\u00bere dayez,And me als fayn to falle feye as fayly of myyn ernde.’\u00c3\u017eenne la3ande quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee lorde, ‘Now leng \u00c3\u00bee byhoues,For I schal teche yow to \u00c3\u00beat terme bi \u00c3\u00bee tymez ende,\u00c3\u017ee grene chapayle vpon grounde greue yow no more;Bot 3e schal be in yowre bed, burne, at \u00c3\u00beyn ese,Quyle forth dayez, and ferk on \u00c3\u00bee fyrst of \u00c3\u00bee 3ere,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”105v”
\nAnd cum to \u00c3\u00beat merk at mydmorn, to make quat yow likez in spenne. Dowellez whyle New 3eres daye, And rys, and raykez \u00c3\u00beenne, Mon schal yow sette in waye, Hit is not two myle henne.’\u00c3\u017eenne watz Gawan ful glad, and gomenly he la3ed:’Now I \u00c3\u00beonk yow \u00c3\u00beryuandely \u00c3\u00beur3 alle o\u00c3\u00beer \u00c3\u00beynge,Now acheued is my chaunce, I schal at your wylleDowelle, and ellez do quat 3e demen.’\u00c3\u017eenne sesed hym \u00c3\u00bee syre and set hym bysyde,Let \u00c3\u00bee ladiez be fette to lyke hem \u00c3\u00bee better.\u00c3\u017eer watz seme solace by hemself stille;\u00c3\u017ee lorde let for luf lotez so myry,As wy3 \u00c3\u00beat wolde of his wyte, ne wyst quat he my3t.\u00c3\u017eenne he carped to \u00c3\u00bee kny3t, criande loude,’3e han demed to do \u00c3\u00bee dede \u00c3\u00beat I bidde;Wyl 3e halde \u00c3\u00beis hes here at \u00c3\u00beys onez?”3e, sir, for so\u00c3\u00bee,’ sayd \u00c3\u00bee segge trwe,’Whyl I byde in yowre bor3e, be bayn to 3owre hest.”For 3e haf trauayled,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee tulk, ‘towen fro ferre,And sy\u00c3\u00been waked me wyth, 3e arn not wel warystNau\u00c3\u00beer of sostnaunce ne of slepe, so\u00c3\u00bely I knowe;
\n-31-<\/p>\n
3e schal lenge in your lofte, and ly3e in your eseTo-morn quyle \u00c3\u00bee messequyle, and to mete wendeWhen 3e wyl, wyth my wyf, \u00c3\u00beat wyth yow schal sitteAnd comfort yow with compayny, til I to cort torne; 3e lende, And I schal erly ryse, On huntyng wyl I wende.’ Gauayn grantez alle \u00c3\u00beyse, Hym heldande, as \u00c3\u00bee hende.’3et firre,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee freke, ‘a forwarde we make:Quat-so-euer I wynne in \u00c3\u00bee wod hit wor\u00c3\u00beez to yourez,And quat chek so 3e acheue chaunge me \u00c3\u00beerforne.Swete, swap we so, sware with traw\u00c3\u00bee,Que\u00c3\u00beer, leude, so lymp, lere o\u00c3\u00beer better.”Bi God,’ quo\u00c3\u00be Gawayn \u00c3\u00bee gode, ‘I grant \u00c3\u00beertylle,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”106r”
\nAnd \u00c3\u00beat yow lyst for to layke, lef hit me \u00c3\u00beynkes.”Who bryngez vus \u00c3\u00beis beuerage, \u00c3\u00beis bargayn is maked’:So sayde \u00c3\u00bee lorde of \u00c3\u00beat lede; \u00c3\u00beay la3ed vchone,\u00c3\u017eay dronken and daylyeden and dalten vnty3tel,\u00c3\u017eise lordez and ladyez, quyle \u00c3\u00beat hem lyked;And sy\u00c3\u00been with Frenkysch fare and fele fayre lotez\u00c3\u017eay stoden and stemed and stylly speken,Kysten ful comlyly and ka3ten her leue.With mony leude ful ly3t and lemande torchesVche burne to his bed watz bro3t at \u00c3\u00bee laste, ful softe. To bed 3et er \u00c3\u00beay 3ede, Recorded couenauntez ofte; \u00c3\u017ee olde lorde of \u00c3\u00beat leude Cow\u00c3\u00bee wel halde layk alofte.Ful erly bifore \u00c3\u00bee day \u00c3\u00bee folk vprysen,Gestes \u00c3\u00beat go wolde hor gromez \u00c3\u00beay calden,And \u00c3\u00beay busken vp bilyue blonkkez to sadel,
\n-32-<\/p>\n
Tyffen her takles, trussen her males,Richen hem \u00c3\u00bee rychest, to ryde alle arayde,Lepen vp ly3tly, lachen her brydeles,Vche wy3e on his way \u00c3\u00beer hym wel lyked.\u00c3\u017ee leue lorde of \u00c3\u00bee londe watz not \u00c3\u00bee lastArayed for \u00c3\u00bee rydyng, with renkkez ful mony;Ete a sop hastyly, when he hade herde masse,With bugle to bent-felde he buskez bylyue.By \u00c3\u00beat any dayly3t lemed vpon er\u00c3\u00beeHe with his ha\u00c3\u00beeles on hy3e horsses weren.\u00c3\u017eenne \u00c3\u00beise cacheres \u00c3\u00beat cou\u00c3\u00bee cowpled hor houndez,Vnclosed \u00c3\u00bee kenel dore and calde hem \u00c3\u00beeroute,Blwe bygly in buglez \u00c3\u00bere bare mote;Braches bayed \u00c3\u00beerfore and breme noyse maked;And \u00c3\u00beay chastysed and charred on chasyng \u00c3\u00beat went,A hundreth of hunteres, as I haf herde telle, of \u00c3\u00bee best. To trystors vewters 3od, Couples huntes of kest;<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”106v”
\n\u00c3\u017eer ros for blastez gode Gret rurd in \u00c3\u00beat forest.At \u00c3\u00bee fyrst quethe of \u00c3\u00bee quest quaked \u00c3\u00bee wylde;Der drof in \u00c3\u00bee dale, doted for drede,Hi3ed to \u00c3\u00bee hy3e, bot heterly \u00c3\u00beay wereRestayed with \u00c3\u00bee stablye, \u00c3\u00beat stoutly ascryed.\u00c3\u017eay let \u00c3\u00bee herttez haf \u00c3\u00bee gate, with \u00c3\u00bee hy3e hedes,\u00c3\u017ee breme bukkez also with hor brode paumez;For \u00c3\u00bee fre lorde hade defende in fermysoun tyme\u00c3\u017eat \u00c3\u00beer schulde no mon meue to \u00c3\u00bee male dere.\u00c3\u017ee hindez were halden in with hay! and war!\u00c3\u017ee does dryuen with gret dyn to \u00c3\u00bee depe sladez;\u00c3\u017eer my3t mon se, as \u00c3\u00beay slypte, slentyng of arwes — At vche wende vnder wande wapped a flone — \u00c3\u017eat bigly bote on \u00c3\u00bee broun with ful brode hedez.What! \u00c3\u00beay brayen, and bleden, bi bonkkez \u00c3\u00beay de3en,And ay rachches in a res radly hem fol3es,Hunterez wyth hy3e horne hasted hem afterWyth such a crakkande kry as klyffes haden brusten.
\n-33-<\/p>\n
What wylde so atwaped wy3es \u00c3\u00beat schottenWatz al toraced and rent at \u00c3\u00bee resayt,Bi \u00c3\u00beay were tened at \u00c3\u00bee hy3e and taysed to \u00c3\u00bee wattrez;\u00c3\u017ee ledez were so lerned at \u00c3\u00bee lo3e trysteres,And \u00c3\u00bee grehoundez so grete, \u00c3\u00beat geten hem bylyueAnd hem tofylched, as fast as frekez my3t loke, \u00c3\u00beer-ry3t. \u00c3\u017ee lorde for blys abloy Ful oft con launce and ly3t, And drof \u00c3\u00beat day wyth joy Thus to \u00c3\u00bee derk ny3t.\u00c3\u017eus laykez \u00c3\u00beis lorde by lynde-wodez euez,And Gawayn \u00c3\u00bee god mon in gay bed lygez,Lurkkez quyl \u00c3\u00bee dayly3t lemed on \u00c3\u00bee wowes,Vnder couertour ful clere, cortyned aboute;And as in slomeryng he slode, sle3ly he herdeA littel dyn at his dor, and dernly vpon;And he heuez vp his hed out of \u00c3\u00bee clo\u00c3\u00bees,
\n“folio” n=”107r”
\nA corner of \u00c3\u00bee cortyn he ca3t vp a lyttel,And waytez warly \u00c3\u00beiderwarde quat hit be my3t.Hit watz \u00c3\u00bee ladi, loflyest to beholde,\u00c3\u017eat dro3 \u00c3\u00bee dor after hir ful dernly and stylle,And bo3ed towarde \u00c3\u00bee bed; and \u00c3\u00bee burne schamed,And layde hym doun lystyly, and let as he slepte;And ho stepped stilly and stel to his bedde,Kest vp \u00c3\u00bee cortyn and creped withinne,And set hir ful softly on \u00c3\u00bee bed-syde,And lenged \u00c3\u00beere selly longe to loke quen he wakened.\u00c3\u017ee lede lay lurked a ful longe quyle,Compast in his concience to quat \u00c3\u00beat cace my3tMeue o\u00c3\u00beer amount — to meruayle hym \u00c3\u00beo3t,Bot 3et he sayde in hymself, ‘More semly hit wereTo aspye wyth my spelle in space quat ho wolde.’\u00c3\u017een he wakenede, and wroth, and to hir warde torned,And vnlouked his y3e-lyddez, and let as hym wondered,And sayned hym, as bi his sa3e \u00c3\u00bee sauer to worthe, with hande.
\n-34-<\/p>\n
Wyth chynne and cheke ful swete, Bo\u00c3\u00bee quit and red in blande, Ful lufly con ho lete Wyth lyppez smal la3ande.’God moroun, Sir Gawayn,’ sayde \u00c3\u00beat gay lady,’3e ar a sleper vnsly3e, \u00c3\u00beat mon may slyde hider;Now ar 3e tan as-tyt! Bot true vus may schape,I schal bynde yow in your bedde, \u00c3\u00beat be 3e trayst’:Al la3ande \u00c3\u00bee lady lanced \u00c3\u00beo bourdez.’Goud moroun, gay,’ quo\u00c3\u00be Gawayn \u00c3\u00bee bly\u00c3\u00bee,’Me schal wor\u00c3\u00bee at your wille, and \u00c3\u00beat me wel lykez,For I 3elde me 3ederly, and 3e3e after grace,And \u00c3\u00beat is \u00c3\u00bee best, be my dome, for me byhouez nede’:And \u00c3\u00beus he bourded a3ayn with mony a bly\u00c3\u00bee la3ter.’Bot wolde 3e, lady louely, \u00c3\u00been leue me grante,And deprece your prysoun, and pray hym to ryse,I wolde bo3e of \u00c3\u00beis bed, and busk me better;I schulde keuer \u00c3\u00bee more comfort to karp yow wyth.’<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”107v”
\n‘Nay for so\u00c3\u00bee, beau sir,’ sayd \u00c3\u00beat swete,’3e schal not rise of your bedde, I rych yow better,I schal happe yow here \u00c3\u00beat o\u00c3\u00beer half als,And sy\u00c3\u00been karp wyth my kny3t \u00c3\u00beat I ka3t haue;For I wene wel, iwysse, Sir Wowen 3e are,\u00c3\u017eat alle \u00c3\u00bee worlde worchipez quere-so 3e ride;Your honour, your hendelayk is hendely praysedWith lordez, wyth ladyes, with alle \u00c3\u00beat lyf bere.And now 3e ar here, iwysse, and we bot oure one;My lorde and his ledez ar on len\u00c3\u00bee faren,O\u00c3\u00beer burnez in her bedde, and my burdez als,\u00c3\u017ee dor drawen and dit with a derf haspe;And sy\u00c3\u00been I haue in \u00c3\u00beis hous hym \u00c3\u00beat al lykez,I schal ware my whyle wel, quyl hit lastez, with tale. 3e ar welcum to my cors, Yowre awen won to wale, Me behouez of fyne force Your seruaunt be, and schale.’
\n-35-<\/p>\n
‘In god fayth,’ quo\u00c3\u00be Gawayn, ‘gayn hit me \u00c3\u00beynkkez,\u00c3\u017ea3 I be not now he \u00c3\u00beat 3e of speken;To reche to such reuerence as 3e reherce hereI am wy3e vnwor\u00c3\u00bey, I wot wel myseluen.Bi God, I were glad, and yow god \u00c3\u00beo3t,At sa3e o\u00c3\u00beer at seruyce \u00c3\u00beat I sette my3tTo \u00c3\u00bee plesaunce of your prys — hit were a pure ioye.”In god fayth, Sir Gawayn,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee gay lady,’\u00c3\u017ee prys and \u00c3\u00bee prowes \u00c3\u00beat plesez al o\u00c3\u00beer,If I hit lakked o\u00c3\u00beer set at ly3t, hit were littel daynt\u00c3\u00a9;Bot hit ar ladyes inno3e \u00c3\u00beat leuer wer now\u00c3\u00beeHaf \u00c3\u00bee, hende, in hor holde, as I \u00c3\u00bee habbe here,To daly with derely your daynt\u00c3\u00a9 wordez,Keuer hem comfort and colen her carez,\u00c3\u017een much of \u00c3\u00bee garysoun o\u00c3\u00beer golde \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00beay hauen.Bot I louue \u00c3\u00beat ilk lorde \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bee lyfte haldez,I haf hit holly in my honde \u00c3\u00beat al desyres, \u00c3\u00beur3e grace.’ Scho made hym so gret chere,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”108r”
\n\u00c3\u017eat watz so fayr of face, \u00c3\u017ee kny3t with speches skere Answared to vche a cace.’Madame,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee myry mon, ‘Mary yow 3elde,For I haf founden, in god fayth, yowre fraunchis nobele,And o\u00c3\u00beer ful much of o\u00c3\u00beer folk fongen bi hor dedez,Bot \u00c3\u00bee daynt\u00c3\u00a9 \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00beay delen, for my disert nys euen,Hit is \u00c3\u00bee worchyp of yourself, \u00c3\u00beat no3t bot wel connez.”Bi Mary,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee menskful, ‘me \u00c3\u00beynk hit an o\u00c3\u00beer;For were I worth al \u00c3\u00bee wone of wymmen alyue,And al \u00c3\u00bee wele of \u00c3\u00bee worlde were in my honde,And I schulde chepen and chose to cheue me a lorde,For \u00c3\u00bee costes \u00c3\u00beat I haf knowen vpon \u00c3\u00bee, kny3t, here,Of bewt\u00c3\u00a9 and debonert\u00c3\u00a9 and bly\u00c3\u00bee semblaunt,And \u00c3\u00beat I haf er herkkened and halde hit here trwee,\u00c3\u017eer schulde no freke vpon folde bifore yow be chosen.”Iwysse, wor\u00c3\u00bey,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee wy3e, ‘3e haf waled wel better,Bot I am proude of \u00c3\u00bee prys \u00c3\u00beat 3e put on me,And, soberly your seruaunt, my souerayn I holde yow,
\n-36-<\/p>\n
And yowre kny3t I becom, and Kryst yow for3elde.’\u00c3\u017eus \u00c3\u00beay meled of muchquat til mydmorn paste,And ay \u00c3\u00bee lady let lyk as hym loued mych;\u00c3\u017ee freke ferde with defence, and feted ful fayre — ‘\u00c3\u017ea3 I were burde bry3test’, \u00c3\u00bee burde in mynde hade.\u00c3\u017ee lasse luf in his lode for lur \u00c3\u00beat he so3t boute hone, \u00c3\u017ee dunte \u00c3\u00beat schulde hym deue, And nedez hit most be done. \u00c3\u017ee lady \u00c3\u00beenn spek of leue, He granted hir ful sone.\u00c3\u017eenne ho gef hym god day, and wyth a glent la3ed,And as ho stod, ho stonyed hym wyth ful stor wordez:’Now he \u00c3\u00beat spedez vche spech \u00c3\u00beis disport 3elde yow!Bot \u00c3\u00beat 3e be Gawan, hit gotz in mynde.”Querfore?’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee freke, and freschly he askez,Ferde lest he hade fayled in fourme of his castes;Bot \u00c3\u00bee burde hym blessed, and ‘Bi \u00c3\u00beis skyl’ sayde:<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”108v”
\n‘So god as Gawayn gaynly is halden,And cortaysye is closed so clene in hymseluen,Couth not ly3tly haf lenged so long wyth a lady,Bot he had craued a cosse, bi his courtaysye,Bi sum towch of summe tryfle at sum talez ende.’\u00c3\u017een quo\u00c3\u00be Wowen: ‘Iwysse, wor\u00c3\u00bee as yow lykez;I schal kysse at your comaundement, as a kny3t fallez,And fire, lest he displese yow, so plede hit no more.’Ho comes nerre with \u00c3\u00beat, and cachez hym in armez,Loutez luflych adoun and \u00c3\u00bee leude kyssez.\u00c3\u017eay comly bykennen to Kryst ay\u00c3\u00beer o\u00c3\u00beer;Ho dos hir forth at \u00c3\u00bee dore withouten dyn more;And he ryches hym to ryse and rapes hym sone,Clepes to his chamberlayn, choses his wede,Bo3ez forth, quen he watz boun, bly\u00c3\u00beely to masse;And \u00c3\u00beenne he meued to his mete \u00c3\u00beat menskly hym keped,And made myry al day, til \u00c3\u00bee mone rysed, with game. Watz neuer freke fayrer fonge Bitwene two so dyngne dame,
\n-37-<\/p>\n
\u00c3\u017ee alder and \u00c3\u00bee 3onge; Much solace set \u00c3\u00beay same.And ay \u00c3\u00bee lorde of \u00c3\u00bee londe is lent on his gamnez,To hunt in holtez and he\u00c3\u00bee at hyndez barayne;Such a sowme he \u00c3\u00beer slowe bi \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bee sunne heldet,Of dos and of o\u00c3\u00beer dere, to deme were wonder.\u00c3\u017eenne fersly \u00c3\u00beay flokked in folk at \u00c3\u00bee laste,And quykly of \u00c3\u00bee quelled dere a querr\u00c3\u00a9 \u00c3\u00beay maked.\u00c3\u017ee best bo3ed \u00c3\u00beerto with burnez innoghe,Gedered \u00c3\u00bee grattest of gres \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00beer were,And didden hem derely vndo as \u00c3\u00bee dede askez;Serched hem at \u00c3\u00bee asay summe \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00beer were,Two fyngeres \u00c3\u00beay fonde of \u00c3\u00bee fowlest of alle.Sy\u00c3\u00been \u00c3\u00beay slyt \u00c3\u00bee slot, sesed \u00c3\u00bee erber,Schaued wyth a scharp knyf, and \u00c3\u00bee schyre knitten;Sy\u00c3\u00been rytte \u00c3\u00beay \u00c3\u00bee foure lymmes, and rent of \u00c3\u00bee hyde,\u00c3\u017een brek \u00c3\u00beay \u00c3\u00bee bal\u00c3\u00a9, \u00c3\u00bee bowelez out token<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”109r”
\nLystily for laucyng \u00c3\u00bee lere of \u00c3\u00bee knot;\u00c3\u017eay gryped to \u00c3\u00bee gargulun, and gray\u00c3\u00beely departed\u00c3\u017ee wesaunt fro \u00c3\u00bee wynt-hole, and walt out \u00c3\u00bee guttez;\u00c3\u017een scher \u00c3\u00beay out \u00c3\u00bee schulderez with her scharp knyuez,Haled hem by a lyttel hole to haue hole sydes.Si\u00c3\u00been britned \u00c3\u00beay \u00c3\u00bee brest and brayden hit in twynne,And eft at \u00c3\u00bee gargulun bigynez on \u00c3\u00beenne,Ryuez hit vp radly ry3t to \u00c3\u00bee by3t,Voydez out \u00c3\u00bee avanters, and verayly \u00c3\u00beerafterAlle \u00c3\u00bee rymez by \u00c3\u00bee rybbez radly \u00c3\u00beay lance;So ryde \u00c3\u00beay of by resoun bi \u00c3\u00bee rygge bonez,Euenden to \u00c3\u00bee haunche, \u00c3\u00beat henged alle samen,And heuen hit vp al hole, and hwen hit of \u00c3\u00beere,And \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00beay neme for \u00c3\u00bee noumbles bi nome, as I trowe, bi kynde; Bi \u00c3\u00bee by3t al of \u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00bey3es \u00c3\u017ee lappez \u00c3\u00beay lance bihynde; To hewe hit in two \u00c3\u00beay hy3es, Bi \u00c3\u00bee bakbon to vnbynde.Bo\u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00bee hede and \u00c3\u00bee hals \u00c3\u00beay hwen of \u00c3\u00beenne,And sy\u00c3\u00been sunder \u00c3\u00beay \u00c3\u00bee sydez swyft fro \u00c3\u00bee chyne,
\n-38-<\/p>\n
And \u00c3\u00bee corbeles fee \u00c3\u00beay kest in a greue;\u00c3\u017eenn \u00c3\u00beurled \u00c3\u00beay ay\u00c3\u00beer \u00c3\u00beik side \u00c3\u00beur3 bi \u00c3\u00bee rybbe,And henged \u00c3\u00beenne ay\u00c3\u00beer bi ho3ez of \u00c3\u00bee fourchez,Vche freke for his fee, as fallez for to haue.Vpon a felle of \u00c3\u00bee fayre best fede \u00c3\u00beay \u00c3\u00beayr houndesWyth \u00c3\u00bee lyuer and \u00c3\u00bee ly3tez, \u00c3\u00bee le\u00c3\u00beer of \u00c3\u00bee paunchez,And bred ba\u00c3\u00beed in blod blende \u00c3\u00beeramongez.Baldely \u00c3\u00beay blw prys, bayed \u00c3\u00beayr rachchez,Sy\u00c3\u00been fonge \u00c3\u00beay her flesche, folden to home,Strakande ful stoutly mony stif motez.Bi \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bee dayly3t watz done \u00c3\u00bee douthe watz al wonenInto \u00c3\u00bee comly castel, \u00c3\u00beer \u00c3\u00bee kny3t bidez ful stille, Wyth blys and bry3t fyr bette. \u00c3\u017ee lorde is comen \u00c3\u00beertylle; When Gawayn wyth hym mette \u00c3\u017eer watz bot wele at wylle.<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”109v”
\nThenne comaunded \u00c3\u00bee lorde in \u00c3\u00beat sale to samen alle \u00c3\u00bee meny,Bo\u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00bee ladyes on loghe to ly3t with her burdesBifore alle \u00c3\u00bee folk on \u00c3\u00bee flette, frekez he beddezVerayly his venysoun to fech hym byforne,And al godly in gomen Gawayn he called,Techez hym to \u00c3\u00bee tayles of ful tayt bestes,Schewez hym \u00c3\u00bee schyree grece schorne vpon rybbes.’How payez yow \u00c3\u00beis play? Haf I prys wonnen?Haue I \u00c3\u00beryuandely \u00c3\u00beonk \u00c3\u00beur3 my craft serued?”3e iwysse,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00beat o\u00c3\u00beer wy3e, ‘here is wayth fayrest\u00c3\u017eat I se3 \u00c3\u00beis seuen 3ere in sesoun of wynter.”And al I gif yow, Gawayn,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee gome \u00c3\u00beenne,’For by acorde of couenaunt 3e craue hit as your awen.”\u00c3\u017eis is soth,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee segge, ‘I say yow \u00c3\u00beat ilke:\u00c3\u017eat I haf worthyly wonnen \u00c3\u00beis wonez wythinne,Iwysse with as god wylle hit wor\u00c3\u00beez to 3ourez.’He hasppez his fayre hals his armez wythinne,And kysses hym as comlyly as he cou\u00c3\u00bee awyse:
\n-39-<\/p>\n
‘Tas yow \u00c3\u00beere my cheuicaunce, I cheued no more;I wowche hit saf fynly, \u00c3\u00bea3 feler hit were.”Hit is god,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee godmon, ‘grant mercy \u00c3\u00beerfore.Hit may be such hit is \u00c3\u00bee better, and 3e me breue woldeWhere 3e wan \u00c3\u00beis ilk wele bi wytte of yorseluen.”\u00c3\u017eat watz not forward,’ quo\u00c3\u00be he, ‘frayst me no more.For 3e haf tan \u00c3\u00beat yow tydez, trawe non o\u00c3\u00beer 3e mowe.’ \u00c3\u017eay la3ed, and made hem bly\u00c3\u00bee Wyth lotez \u00c3\u00beat were to lowe; To soper \u00c3\u00beay 3ede as-swy\u00c3\u00bee, Wyth daynt\u00c3\u00a9s nwe innowe.And sy\u00c3\u00been by \u00c3\u00bee chymn\u00c3\u00a9 in chamber \u00c3\u00beay seten,Wy3ez \u00c3\u00bee walle wyn we3ed to hem oft,And efte in her bourdyng \u00c3\u00beay bay\u00c3\u00been in \u00c3\u00bee mornTo fylle \u00c3\u00bee same forwardez \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00beay byfore maden:Wat chaunce so bytydez hor cheuysaunce to chaunge,What nwez so \u00c3\u00beay nome, at na3t quen \u00c3\u00beay metten.\u00c3\u017eay acorded of \u00c3\u00bee couenauntez byfore \u00c3\u00bee court alle;<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”110r”
\n\u00c3\u017ee beuerage watz bro3t forth in bourde at \u00c3\u00beat tyme,\u00c3\u017eenne \u00c3\u00beay louelych le3ten leue at \u00c3\u00bee last,Vche burne to his bedde busked bylyue.Bi \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bee coke hade crowen and cakled bot \u00c3\u00beryse,\u00c3\u017ee lorde watz lopen of his bedde, \u00c3\u00bee leudez vchone;So \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bee mete and \u00c3\u00bee masse watz metely delyuered,\u00c3\u017ee douthe dressed to \u00c3\u00bee wod, er any day sprenged, to chace; He3 with hunte and hornez \u00c3\u017eur3 playnez \u00c3\u00beay passe in space, Vncoupled among \u00c3\u00beo \u00c3\u00beornez Rachez \u00c3\u00beat ran on race.SONE \u00c3\u00beay calle of a quest in a ker syde,\u00c3\u017ee hunt rehayted \u00c3\u00bee houndez \u00c3\u00beat hit fyrst mynged,Wylde wordez hym warp wyth a wrast noyce;\u00c3\u017ee howndez \u00c3\u00beat hit herde hastid \u00c3\u00beider swy\u00c3\u00bee,And fellen as fast to \u00c3\u00bee fuyt, fourty at ones;
\n-40-<\/p>\n
\u00c3\u017eenne such a glauer ande glam of gedered rachchezRos, \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bee rocherez rungen aboute;Hunterez hem hardened with horne and wyth muthe.\u00c3\u017een al in a sembl\u00c3\u00a9 sweyed togeder,Bitwene a flosche in \u00c3\u00beat fryth and a foo cragge;In a knot bi a clyffe, at \u00c3\u00bee kerre syde,\u00c3\u017eer as \u00c3\u00bee rogh rocher vnrydely watz fallen,\u00c3\u017eay ferden to \u00c3\u00bee fyndyng, and frekez hem after;\u00c3\u017eay vmbekesten \u00c3\u00bee knarre and \u00c3\u00bee knot bo\u00c3\u00bee,Wy3ez, whyl \u00c3\u00beay wysten wel wythinne hem hit were,\u00c3\u017ee best \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00beer breued watz wyth \u00c3\u00bee blodhoundez.\u00c3\u017eenne \u00c3\u00beay beten on \u00c3\u00bee buskez, and bede hym vpryse,And he vnsoundyly out so3t seggez ouer\u00c3\u00bewert;On \u00c3\u00bee sellokest swyn swenged out \u00c3\u00beere,Long sythen fro \u00c3\u00bee sounder \u00c3\u00beat si3ed for olde,For he watz breme, bor al\u00c3\u00beer-grattest,Ful grymme quen he gronyed; \u00c3\u00beenne greued mony,For \u00c3\u00bere at \u00c3\u00bee fyrst \u00c3\u00berast he \u00c3\u00bery3t to \u00c3\u00bee er\u00c3\u00bee,And sparred forth good sped boute spyt more.\u00c3\u017eise o\u00c3\u00beer halowed hyghe! ful hy3e, and hay! hay! cryed,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”110v”
\nHaden hornez to mou\u00c3\u00bee, heterly rechated;Mony watz \u00c3\u00bee myry mouthe of men and of houndez\u00c3\u017eat buskkez after \u00c3\u00beis bor with bost and wyth noyse to quelle. Ful oft he bydez \u00c3\u00bee baye, And maymez \u00c3\u00bee mute inn melle; He hurtez of \u00c3\u00bee houndez, and \u00c3\u00beay Ful 3omerly 3aule and 3elle.Schalkez to schote at hym schowen to \u00c3\u00beenne,Haled to hym of her arewez, hitten hym oft;Bot \u00c3\u00bee poyntez payred at \u00c3\u00bee pyth \u00c3\u00beat py3t in his scheldez,And \u00c3\u00bee barbez of his browe bite non wolde — \u00c3\u017ea3 \u00c3\u00bee schauen schaft schyndered in pecez,\u00c3\u017ee hede hypped a3ayn were-so-euer hit hitte.-41-<\/p>\n
Bot quen \u00c3\u00bee dyntez hym dered of her dry3e strokez,\u00c3\u017een, braynwod for bate, on burnez he rasez,Hurtez hem ful heterly \u00c3\u00beer he forth hy3ez,And mony ar3ed \u00c3\u00beerat, and on lyte dro3en.Bot \u00c3\u00bee lorde on a ly3t horce launces hym after,As burne bolde vpon bent his bugle he blowez,He rechated, and rode \u00c3\u00beur3 ronez ful \u00c3\u00beyk,Suande \u00c3\u00beis wylde swyn til \u00c3\u00bee sunne schafted.\u00c3\u017eis day wyth \u00c3\u00beis ilk dede \u00c3\u00beay dryuen on \u00c3\u00beis wyse,Whyle oure luflych lede lys in his bedde,Gawayn gray\u00c3\u00beely at home, in gerez ful ryche of hewe. \u00c3\u017ee lady no3t for3ate, Com to hym to salue; Ful erly ho watz hym ate His mode for to remwe.Ho commes to \u00c3\u00bee cortyn, and at \u00c3\u00bee kny3t totes.Sir Wawen her welcumed wor\u00c3\u00bey on fyrst,And ho hym 3eldez a3ayn ful 3erne of hir wordez,Settez hir softly by his syde, and swy\u00c3\u00beely ho la3ez,And wyth a luflych loke ho layde hym \u00c3\u00beyse wordez:’Sir, 3if 3e be Wawen, wonder me \u00c3\u00beynkkez,Wy3e \u00c3\u00beat is so wel wrast alway to god,And connez not of compaynye \u00c3\u00bee costez vndertake,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”111r”
\nAnd if mon kennes yow hom to knowe, 3e kest hom of your mynde;\u00c3\u017eou hatz for3eten 3ederly \u00c3\u00beat 3isterday I ta3tteBi alder-truest token of talk \u00c3\u00beat I cow\u00c3\u00bee.”What is \u00c3\u00beat?’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee wyghe, ‘Iwysse I wot neuer;If hit be sothe \u00c3\u00beat 3e breue, \u00c3\u00bee blame is myn awen.”3et I kende yow of kyssyng,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee clere \u00c3\u00beenne,’Quere-so countenaunce is cou\u00c3\u00bee quikly to clayme;\u00c3\u017eat bicumes vche a kny3t \u00c3\u00beat cortaysy vses.”Do way,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00beat derf mon, ‘my dere, \u00c3\u00beat speche,For \u00c3\u00beat durst I not do, lest I deuayed were;If I were werned, I were wrang, iwysse, 3if I profered.”Ma fay,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee mer\u00c3\u00a9 wyf, ‘3e may not be werned,
\n-42-<\/p>\n
3e ar stif innoghe to constrayne wyth strenk\u00c3\u00bee, 3if yow lykez,3if any were so vilanous \u00c3\u00beat yow devaye wolde.”3e, be God,’ quo\u00c3\u00be Gawayn, ‘good is your speche,Bot \u00c3\u00berete is vn\u00c3\u00beryuande in \u00c3\u00beede \u00c3\u00beer I lende,And vche gift \u00c3\u00beat is geuen not with goud wylle.I am at your comaundement, to kysse quen yow lykez,3e may lach quen yow lyst, and leue quen yow \u00c3\u00beynkkez, in space.’ \u00c3\u017ee lady loutez adoun, And comlyly kysses his face, Much speche \u00c3\u00beay \u00c3\u00beer expoun Of druryes greme and grace.’I woled wyt at yow, wy3e,’ \u00c3\u00beat wor\u00c3\u00bey \u00c3\u00beer sayde,’And yow wrathed not \u00c3\u00beerwyth, what were \u00c3\u00bee skylle\u00c3\u017eat so 3ong and so 3epe as 3e at \u00c3\u00beis tyme,So cortayse, so kny3tly, as 3e ar knowen oute — And of alle cheualry to chose, \u00c3\u00bee chef \u00c3\u00beyng alosedIs \u00c3\u00bee lel layk of luf, \u00c3\u00bee lettrure of armes;For to telle of \u00c3\u00beis teuelyng of \u00c3\u00beis trwe kny3tez,Hit is \u00c3\u00bee tytelet token and tyxt of her werkkez,How ledes for her lele luf hor lyuez han auntered,Endured for her drury dulful stoundez,And after wenged with her walour and voyded her care,And bro3t blysse into boure with bountees hor awen — And 3e ar kny3t comlokest kyd of your elde,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”111v”
\nYour worde and your worchip walkez ayquere,And I haf seten by yourself here sere twyes,3et herde I neuer of your hed helde no wordez\u00c3\u017eat euer longed to luf, lasse ne more;And 3e, \u00c3\u00beat ar so cortays and coynt of your hetes,Oghe to a 3onke \u00c3\u00beynk 3ern to scheweAnd teche sum tokenez of trweluf craftes.Why! ar 3e lewed, \u00c3\u00beat alle \u00c3\u00bee los weldez?O\u00c3\u00beer elles 3e demen me to dille your dalyaunce to herken? For schame! I com hider sengel, and sitte To lerne at yow sum game;
\n-43-<\/p>\n
Dos, techez me of your wytte, Whil my lorde is fro hame.”In goud fay\u00c3\u00bee,’ quo\u00c3\u00be Gawayn, ‘God yow for3elde!Gret is \u00c3\u00bee gode gle, and gomen to me huge,\u00c3\u017eat so wor\u00c3\u00bey as 3e wolde wynne hidere,And pyne yow with so pouer a mon, as play wyth your kny3tWith anyskynnez countenaunce, hit keuerez me ese;Bot to take \u00c3\u00bee toruayle to myself to trwluf expoun,And towche \u00c3\u00bee temez of tyxt and talez of armezTo yow \u00c3\u00beat, I wot wel, weldez more sly3tOf \u00c3\u00beat art, bi \u00c3\u00bee half, or a hundreth of secheAs I am, o\u00c3\u00beer euer schal, in erde \u00c3\u00beer I leue,Hit were a fol\u00c3\u00a9 felefolde, my fre, by my traw\u00c3\u00bee.I wolde yowre wylnyng worche at my my3t,As I am hy3ly bihalden, and euermore wylleBe seruaunt to yourseluen, so saue me Dry3tyn!’\u00c3\u017eus hym frayned \u00c3\u00beat fre, and fondet hym ofte,For to haf wonnen hym to wo3e, what-so scho \u00c3\u00beo3t ellez;Bot he defended hym so fayr \u00c3\u00beat no faut semed,Ne non euel on naw\u00c3\u00beer halue, naw\u00c3\u00beer \u00c3\u00beay wysten bot blysse. \u00c3\u017eay la3ed and layked longe; At \u00c3\u00bee last scho con hym kysse, Hir leue fayre con scho fonge And went hir waye, iwysse.Then ru\u00c3\u00bees hym \u00c3\u00bee renk and ryses to \u00c3\u00bee masse,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”112r”
\nAnd si\u00c3\u00been hor diner watz dy3t and derely serued.\u00c3\u017ee lede with \u00c3\u00bee ladyez layked alle day,Bot \u00c3\u00bee lorde ouer \u00c3\u00bee londez launced ful ofte,Swez his vncely swyn, \u00c3\u00beat swyngez bi \u00c3\u00bee bonkkezAnd bote \u00c3\u00bee best of his brachez \u00c3\u00bee bakkez in sunder\u00c3\u017eer he bode in his bay, tel bawemen hit breken,And madee hym mawgref his hed for to mwe vtter,So felle flonez \u00c3\u00beer flete when \u00c3\u00bee folk gedered.Bot 3et \u00c3\u00bee styffest to start bi stoundez he made,Til at \u00c3\u00bee last he watz so mat he my3t no more renne,Bot in \u00c3\u00bee hast \u00c3\u00beat he my3t he to a hole wynnezOf a rasse bi a rokk \u00c3\u00beer rennez \u00c3\u00bee boerne.
\n-44-<\/p>\n
He gete \u00c3\u00bee bonk at his bak, bigynez to scrape,\u00c3\u017ee fro\u00c3\u00bee femed at his mouth vnfayre bi \u00c3\u00bee wykez,Whettez his whyte tuschez; with hym \u00c3\u00been irkedAlle \u00c3\u00bee burnez so bolde \u00c3\u00beat hym by stodenTo nye hym on-ferum, bot ne3e hym non durst for wo\u00c3\u00bee; He hade hurt so mony byforne \u00c3\u017eat al \u00c3\u00beu3t \u00c3\u00beenne ful lo\u00c3\u00bee Be more wyth his tusches torne, \u00c3\u017eat breme watz and braynwod bothe,Til \u00c3\u00bee kny3t com hymself, kachande his blonk,Sy3 hym byde at \u00c3\u00bee bay, his burnez bysyde;He ly3tes luflych adoun, leuez his corsour,Braydez out a bry3t bront and bigly forth strydez,Foundez fast \u00c3\u00beur3 \u00c3\u00bee forth \u00c3\u00beer \u00c3\u00bee felle bydez.\u00c3\u017ee wylde watz war of \u00c3\u00bee wy3e with weppen in honde,Hef hy3ly \u00c3\u00bee here, so hetterly he fnast\u00c3\u017eat fele ferde for \u00c3\u00bee freke, lest felle hym \u00c3\u00bee worre.\u00c3\u017ee swyn settez hym out on \u00c3\u00bee segge euen,\u00c3\u017eat \u00c3\u00bee burne and \u00c3\u00bee bor were bo\u00c3\u00bee vpon hepezIn \u00c3\u00bee wy3test of \u00c3\u00bee water; \u00c3\u00bee worre hade \u00c3\u00beat o\u00c3\u00beer,For \u00c3\u00bee mon merkkez hym wel, as \u00c3\u00beay mette fyrst,Set sadly \u00c3\u00bee scharp in \u00c3\u00bee slot euen,Hit hym vp to \u00c3\u00bee hult, \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bee hert schyndered,And he 3arrande hym 3elde, and 3edoun \u00c3\u00bee water<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”112v”
\nful tyt. A hundreth houndez hym hent, \u00c3\u017eat bremely con hym bite, Burnez him bro3t to bent, And doggez to dethe endite.There watz blawyng of prys in mony breme horne,He3e halowing on hi3e with ha\u00c3\u00beelez \u00c3\u00beat my3t;Brachetes bayed \u00c3\u00beat best, as bidden \u00c3\u00bee maysterezOf \u00c3\u00beat chargeaunt chace \u00c3\u00beat were chef huntes.\u00c3\u017eenne a wy3e \u00c3\u00beat watz wys vpon wodcraftezTo vnlace \u00c3\u00beis bor lufly bigynnez.Fyrst he hewes of his hed and on hi3e settez,
\n-45-<\/p>\n
And sy\u00c3\u00been rendez him al roghe bi \u00c3\u00bee rygge after,Braydez out \u00c3\u00bee boweles, brennez hom on glede,With bred blent \u00c3\u00beerwith his braches rewardez.Sy\u00c3\u00been he britnez out \u00c3\u00bee brawen in bry3t brode cheldez,And hatz out \u00c3\u00bee hastlettez, as hi3tly bisemez;And 3et hem halchez al hole \u00c3\u00bee haluez togeder,And sy\u00c3\u00been on a stif stange stoutly hem henges.Now with \u00c3\u00beis ilk swyn \u00c3\u00beay swengen to home;\u00c3\u017ee bores hed watz borne bifore \u00c3\u00bee burnes seluen\u00c3\u017eat him forferde in \u00c3\u00bee for\u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00beur3 forse of his honde so stronge. Til he se3 Sir Gawayne In halle hym po3t ful longe; He calde, and he com gayn His feez \u00c3\u00beer for to fonge.\u00c3\u017ee lorde ful lowde with lote and la3ter myry,When he se3e Sir Gawayn, with solace he spekez;\u00c3\u017ee goude ladyez were geten, and gedered \u00c3\u00bee meyny,He schewez hem \u00c3\u00bee scheldez, and schapes hem \u00c3\u00bee taleOf \u00c3\u00bee largesse and \u00c3\u00bee len\u00c3\u00bee, \u00c3\u00bee li\u00c3\u00beernez alseOf \u00c3\u00bee were of \u00c3\u00bee wylde swyn in wod \u00c3\u00beer he fled.\u00c3\u017eat o\u00c3\u00beer kny3t ful comly comended his dedez,And praysed hit as gret prys \u00c3\u00beat he proued hade,For suche a brawne of a best, \u00c3\u00bee bolde burne sayde,Ne such sydes of a swyn segh he neuer are.\u00c3\u017eenne hondeled \u00c3\u00beay \u00c3\u00bee hoge hed, \u00c3\u00bee hende mon hit praysed,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”113r”
\nAnd let lodly \u00c3\u00beerat \u00c3\u00bee lorde for to here.’Now, Gawayn,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee godmon, ‘\u00c3\u00beis gomen is your awenBi fyn forwarde and faste, faythely 3e knowe.”Hit is sothe,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee segge, ‘and as siker trweAlle my get I schal yow gif agayn, bi my traw\u00c3\u00bee.’He hent \u00c3\u00bee ha\u00c3\u00beel aboute \u00c3\u00bee halse, and hendely hym kysses,And eftersones of \u00c3\u00bee same he serued hym \u00c3\u00beere.’Now ar we euen,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee ha\u00c3\u00beel, ‘in \u00c3\u00beis euentideOf alle \u00c3\u00bee couenauntes \u00c3\u00beat we knyt, sy\u00c3\u00been I com hider, bi lawe.’ \u00c3\u017ee lorde sayde, ‘Bi saynt Gile, 3e ar \u00c3\u00bee best \u00c3\u00beat I knowe!
\n-46-<\/p>\n
3e ben ryche in a whyle, Such chaffer and 3e drowe.’\u00c3\u017eenne \u00c3\u00beay teldet tablez trestes alofte,Kesten clo\u00c3\u00been vpon; clere ly3t \u00c3\u00beenneWakned bi wo3ez, waxen torches;Seggez sette and serued in sale al aboute;Much glam and gle glent vp \u00c3\u00beerinneAboute \u00c3\u00bee fyre vpon flet, and on fele wyseAt \u00c3\u00bee soper and after, mony a\u00c3\u00beel songez,As coundutes of Krystmasse and carolez neweWith al \u00c3\u00bee manerly mer\u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00beat mon may of telle,And euer oure luflych kny3t \u00c3\u00bee lady bisyde.Such semblaunt to \u00c3\u00beat segge semly ho madeWyth stille stollen countenaunce, \u00c3\u00beat stalworth to plese,\u00c3\u017eat al forwondered watz \u00c3\u00bee wy3e, and wroth with hymseluen,Bot he nolde not for his nurture nurne hir a3aynez,Bot dalt with hir al in daynt\u00c3\u00a9, how-se-euer \u00c3\u00bee dede turned towrast. Quen \u00c3\u00beay hade played in halle As longe as hor wylle hom last, To chambre he con hym calle, And to \u00c3\u00bee chemn\u00c3\u00a9 \u00c3\u00beay past.Ande \u00c3\u00beer \u00c3\u00beay dronken, and dalten, and demed eft nweTo norne on \u00c3\u00bee same note on Nwe 3erez euen;Bot \u00c3\u00bee kny3t craued leue to kayre on \u00c3\u00bee morn,For hit watz ne3 at \u00c3\u00bee terme \u00c3\u00beat he to schulde.<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”113v”
\n\u00c3\u017ee lorde hym letted of \u00c3\u00beat, to lenge hym resteyed,And sayde, ‘As I am trwe segge, I siker my traw\u00c3\u00bee\u00c3\u017eou schal cheue to \u00c3\u00bee grene chapel \u00c3\u00bey charres to make,Leude, on Nw 3erez ly3t, longe bifore pryme.For\u00c3\u00bey \u00c3\u00beow lye in \u00c3\u00bey loft and lach \u00c3\u00beyn ese,And I schal hunt in \u00c3\u00beis holt, and halde \u00c3\u00bee towchez,Chaunge wyth \u00c3\u00bee cheuisaunce, bi \u00c3\u00beat I charre hider;For I haf fraysted \u00c3\u00bee twys, and faythful I fynde \u00c3\u00bee.Now “\u00c3\u00berid tyme \u00c3\u00berowe best” \u00c3\u00beenk on \u00c3\u00bee morne,Make we mery quyl we may and mynne vpon joye,For \u00c3\u00bee lur may mon lach when-so mon lykez.’\u00c3\u017eis watz gray\u00c3\u00beely graunted, and Gawayn is lenged,
\n-47-<\/p>\n
Bli\u00c3\u00bee bro3t watz hym drynk, and \u00c3\u00beay to bedde 3eden with li3t. Sir Gawayn lis and slepes Ful stille and softe al ni3t; \u00c3\u017ee lorde \u00c3\u00beat his craftez kepes, Ful erly he watz di3t.After messe a morsel he and his men token;Miry watz \u00c3\u00bee mornyng, his mounture he askes.Alle \u00c3\u00bee ha\u00c3\u00beeles \u00c3\u00beat on horse schulde helden hym afterWere boun busked on hor blonkkez bifore \u00c3\u00bee halle 3atez.Ferly fayre watz \u00c3\u00bee folde, for \u00c3\u00bee forst clenged;In rede rudede vpon rak rises \u00c3\u00bee sunne,And ful clere costez \u00c3\u00bee clowdes of \u00c3\u00bee welkyn.Hunteres vnhardeled bi a holt syde,Rocheres roungen bi rys for rurde of her hornes;Summe fel in \u00c3\u00bee fute \u00c3\u00beer \u00c3\u00bee fox bade,Traylez ofte a traueres bi traunt of her wyles;A kenet kyres \u00c3\u00beerof, \u00c3\u00bee hunt on hym calles;His fela3es fallen hym to, \u00c3\u00beat fnasted ful \u00c3\u00beike,Runnen forth in a rabel in his ry3t fare,And he fyskez hem byfore; \u00c3\u00beay founden hym sone,And quen \u00c3\u00beay seghe hym with sy3t \u00c3\u00beay sued hym fast,Wre3ande hym ful weterly with a wroth noyse;And he trantes and tornayeez \u00c3\u00beur3 mony tene greue,Hauilounez, and herkenez bi heggez ful ofte.<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”114r”
\nAt \u00c3\u00bee last bi a littel dich he lepez ouer a spenne,Stelez out ful stilly bi a strothe rande,Went haf wylt of \u00c3\u00bee wode with wylez fro \u00c3\u00bee houndes;\u00c3\u017eenne watz he went, er he wyst, to a wale tryster,\u00c3\u017eer \u00c3\u00bere \u00c3\u00bero at a \u00c3\u00berich \u00c3\u00berat hym at ones, al graye. He blenched a3ayn bilyue And stifly start on-stray, With alle \u00c3\u00bee wo on lyue To \u00c3\u00bee wod he went away.
\n-48-<\/p>\n
Thenne watz hit list vpon lif to ly\u00c3\u00been \u00c3\u00bee houndez,When alle \u00c3\u00bee mute hade hym met, menged togeder:Suche a sor3e at \u00c3\u00beat sy3t \u00c3\u00beay sette on his hedeAs alle \u00c3\u00bee clamberande clyffes hade clatered on hepes;Here he watz halawed, when ha\u00c3\u00beelez hym metten,Loude he watz 3ayned with 3arande speche;\u00c3\u017eer he watz \u00c3\u00bereted and ofte \u00c3\u00beef called,And ay \u00c3\u00bee titleres at his tayl, \u00c3\u00beat tary he ne my3t;Ofte he watz runnen at, when he out rayked,And ofte reled in a3ayn, so Reniarde watz wyl\u00c3\u00a9.And 3e he lad hem bi lagmon, \u00c3\u00bee lorde and his meyny,On \u00c3\u00beis maner bi \u00c3\u00bee mountes quyle myd-ouer-vnder,Whyle \u00c3\u00bee hende kny3t at home holsumly slepesWithinne \u00c3\u00bee comly cortynes, on \u00c3\u00bee colde morne.Bot \u00c3\u00bee lady for luf let not to slepe,Ne \u00c3\u00bee purpose to payre \u00c3\u00beat py3t in hir hert,Bot ros hir vp radly, rayked hir \u00c3\u00beederIn a mery mantyle, mete to \u00c3\u00bee er\u00c3\u00bee,\u00c3\u017eat watz furred ful fyne with fellez wel pured,No hwef goud on hir hede bot \u00c3\u00bee ha3er stonesTrased aboute hir tressour be twenty in clusteres;Hir \u00c3\u00beryuen face and hir \u00c3\u00berote \u00c3\u00berowen al naked,Hir brest bare bifore, and bihinde eke.Ho comez withinne \u00c3\u00bee chambre dore, and closes hit hir after,Wayuez vp a wyndow, and on \u00c3\u00bee wy3e callez,And radly \u00c3\u00beus rehayted hym with hir riche wordes, with chere: ‘A! mon, how may \u00c3\u00beou slepe,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”114v”
\n\u00c3\u017eis morning is so clere?’ He watz in drowping depe, Bot \u00c3\u00beenne he con hir here.In dre3 droupyng of dreme draueled \u00c3\u00beat noble,As mon \u00c3\u00beat watz in mornyng of mony \u00c3\u00bero \u00c3\u00beo3tes,How \u00c3\u00beat destin\u00c3\u00a9 schulde \u00c3\u00beat day dele hym his wyrdeAt \u00c3\u00bee grene chapel, when he \u00c3\u00bee gome metes,And bihoues his buffet abide withoute debate more;Bot quen \u00c3\u00beat comly com he keuered his wyttes,
\n-49-<\/p>\n
Swenges out of \u00c3\u00bee sweuenes, and swarez with hast.\u00c3\u017ee lady luflych com la3ande swete,Felle ouer his fayre face, and fetly hym kyssed;He welcumez hir wor\u00c3\u00beily with a wale chere.He se3 hir so glorious and gayly atyred,So fautles of hir fetures and of so fyne hewes,Wi3t wallande joye warmed his hert.With smo\u00c3\u00bee smylyng and smolt \u00c3\u00beay smeten into mer\u00c3\u00bee,\u00c3\u017eat al watz blis and bonchef \u00c3\u00beat breke hem bitwene, and wynne. \u00c3\u017eay lanced wordes gode, Much wele \u00c3\u00been watz \u00c3\u00beerinne; Gret perile bitwene hem stod, Nif Mar\u00c3\u00a9 of hir kny3t mynne.For \u00c3\u00beat prynces of pris depresed hym so \u00c3\u00beikke,Nurned hym so ne3e \u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00bered, \u00c3\u00beat nede hym bihouedO\u00c3\u00beer lach \u00c3\u00beer hir luf, o\u00c3\u00beer lodly refuse.He cared for his cortaysye, lest cra\u00c3\u00beayn he were,And more for his meschef 3if he schulde make synne,And be traytor to \u00c3\u00beat tolke \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00beat telde a3t.’God schylde,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee schalk, ‘\u00c3\u00beat schal not befalle!’With luf-la3yng a lyt he layd hym bysydeAlle \u00c3\u00bee spechez of specialt\u00c3\u00a9 \u00c3\u00beat sprange of her mouthe.Quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00beat burde to \u00c3\u00bee burne, ‘Blame 3e disserue,3if 3e luf not \u00c3\u00beat lyf \u00c3\u00beat 3e lye nexte,Bifore alle \u00c3\u00bee wy3ez in \u00c3\u00bee worlde wounded in hert,Bot if 3e haf a lemman, a leuer, \u00c3\u00beat yow lykez better,And folden fayth to \u00c3\u00beat fre, festned so harde<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”115r”
\n\u00c3\u017eat yow lausen ne lyst — and \u00c3\u00beat I leue nou\u00c3\u00bee;And \u00c3\u00beat 3e telle me \u00c3\u00beat now trwly I pray yow,For alle \u00c3\u00bee lufez vpon lyue layne not \u00c3\u00bee so\u00c3\u00bee for gile.’ \u00c3\u017ee kny3t sayde, ‘Be sayn Jon,’ And sme\u00c3\u00beely con he smyle, ‘In fayth I welde ri3t non, Ne non wil welde \u00c3\u00bee quile.”\u00c3\u017eat is a worde,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00beat wy3t, ‘\u00c3\u00beat worst is of alle,
\n-50-<\/p>\n
Bot I am swared for so\u00c3\u00bee, \u00c3\u00beat sore me \u00c3\u00beinkkez.Kysse me now comly, and I schal cach he\u00c3\u00been,I may bot mourne vpon molde, as may \u00c3\u00beat much louyes.’Sykande ho swe3e doun and semly hym kyssed,And si\u00c3\u00been ho seueres hym fro, and says as ho stondes,’Now, dere, at \u00c3\u00beis departyng do me \u00c3\u00beis ese,Gif me sumquat of \u00c3\u00bey gifte, \u00c3\u00bei gloue if hit were,\u00c3\u017eat I may mynne on \u00c3\u00bee, mon, my mournyng to lassen.”Now iwysse,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00beat wy3e, ‘I wolde I hade here\u00c3\u017ee leuest \u00c3\u00being for \u00c3\u00bey luf \u00c3\u00beat I in londe welde,For 3e haf deserued, for so\u00c3\u00bee, sellyly ofteMore rewarde bi resoun \u00c3\u00been I reche my3t;Bot to dele yow for drurye \u00c3\u00beat dawed bot neked,Hit is not your honour to haf at \u00c3\u00beis tymeA gloue for a garysoun of Gawaynez giftez,And I am here an erande in erdez vncou\u00c3\u00bee,And haue no men wyth no malez with menskful \u00c3\u00beingez;\u00c3\u017eat mislykez me, lad\u00c3\u00a9, for luf at \u00c3\u00beis tyme,Iche tolke mon do as he is tan, tas to non ille ne pine.’ ‘Nay, hende of hy3e honours,’ Quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00beat lufsum vnder lyne, ‘\u00c3\u017ea3 I hade no3t of yourez, 3et schulde 3e haue of myne.’Ho ra3t hym a riche rynk of red golde werkez,Wyth a starande ston stondande alofte\u00c3\u017eat bere blusschande bemez as \u00c3\u00bee bry3t sunne;Wyt 3e wel, hit watz worth wele ful hoge.Bot \u00c3\u00bee renk hit renayed, and redyly he sayde,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”115v”
\n‘I wil no giftez, for Gode, my gay, at \u00c3\u00beis tyme;I haf none yow to norne, ne no3t wyl I take.’Ho bede hit hym ful bysily, and he hir bode wernes,And swere swyfte by his sothe \u00c3\u00beat he hit sese nolde,And ho sor\u00c3\u00a9 \u00c3\u00beat he forsoke, and sayde \u00c3\u00beerafter,’If 3e renay my rynk, to ryche for hit semez,3e wolde not so hy3ly halden be to me,I schal gif yow my girdel, \u00c3\u00beat gaynes yow lasse.’
\n-51-<\/p>\n
Ho la3t a lace ly3tly \u00c3\u00beat leke vmbe hir sydez,Knit vpon hir kyrtel vnder \u00c3\u00bee clere mantyle,Gered hit watz with grene sylke and with golde schaped,No3t bot arounde brayden, beten with fyngrez;And \u00c3\u00beat ho bede to \u00c3\u00bee burne, and bly\u00c3\u00beely biso3t,\u00c3\u017ea3 hit vnwor\u00c3\u00bei were, \u00c3\u00beat he hit take wolde.And he nay \u00c3\u00beat he nolde neghe in no wyseNau\u00c3\u00beer golde ne garysoun, er God hym grace sendeTo acheue to \u00c3\u00bee chaunce \u00c3\u00beat he hade chosen \u00c3\u00beere.’And \u00c3\u00beerfore, I pray yow, displese yow no3t,And lettez be your bisinesse, for I bay\u00c3\u00bee hit yow neuer to graunte; I am derely to yow biholde Bicause of your sembelaunt, And euer in hot and colde To be your trwe seruaunt.”Now forsake 3e \u00c3\u00beis silke,’ sayde \u00c3\u00bee burde \u00c3\u00beenne,’For hit is symple in hitself? And so hit wel semez.Lo! so hit is littel, and lasse hit is wor\u00c3\u00bey;Bot who-so knew \u00c3\u00bee costes \u00c3\u00beat knit ar \u00c3\u00beerinne,He wolde hit prayse at more prys, parauenture;For quat gome so is gorde with \u00c3\u00beis grene lace,While he hit hade hemely halched aboute,\u00c3\u017eer is no ha\u00c3\u00beel vnder heuen tohewe hym \u00c3\u00beat my3t,For he my3t not be slayn for sly3t vpon er\u00c3\u00bee.’\u00c3\u017een kest \u00c3\u00bee kny3t, and hit come to his hertHit were a juel for \u00c3\u00bee jopard\u00c3\u00a9 \u00c3\u00beat hym iugged were:When he acheued to \u00c3\u00bee chapel his chek for to fech,My3t he haf slypped to be vnslayn, \u00c3\u00bee sle3t were noble.<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”116r”
\n\u00c3\u017eenne he \u00c3\u00beulged with hir \u00c3\u00berepe and \u00c3\u00beoled hir to speke,And ho bere on hym \u00c3\u00bee belt and bede hit hym swy\u00c3\u00bee — And he granted and hym gafe with a goud wylle — And biso3t hym, for hir sake, disceuer hit neuer,Bot to lelly layne fro hir lorde; \u00c3\u00bee leude hym acordez\u00c3\u017eat neuer wy3e schulde hit wyt, iwysse, bot \u00c3\u00beay twayne for no3te; He \u00c3\u00beonkked hir oft ful swy\u00c3\u00bee, Ful \u00c3\u00bero with hert and \u00c3\u00beo3t.
\n-52-<\/p>\n
Bi \u00c3\u00beat on \u00c3\u00berynne sy\u00c3\u00bee Ho hatz kyst \u00c3\u00bee kny3t so to3t.Thenne lachchez ho hir leue, and leuez hym \u00c3\u00beere,For more myr\u00c3\u00bee of \u00c3\u00beat mon mo3t ho not gete.When ho watz gon, Sir Gawayn gerez hym sone,Rises and riches hym in araye noble,Lays vp \u00c3\u00bee luf-lace \u00c3\u00bee lady hym ra3t,Hid hit ful holdely, \u00c3\u00beer he hit eft fonde.Sy\u00c3\u00been cheuely to \u00c3\u00bee chapel choses he \u00c3\u00bee waye,Preu\u00c3\u00a9ly aproched to a prest, and prayed hym \u00c3\u00beere\u00c3\u017eat he wolde lyste his lyf and lern hym betterHow his sawle schulde be saued when he schuld seye he\u00c3\u00been.\u00c3\u017eere he schrof hym schyrly and schewed his mysdedez,Of \u00c3\u00bee more and \u00c3\u00bee mynne, and merci besechez,And of absolucioun he on \u00c3\u00bee segge calles;And he asoyled hym surely and sette hym so cleneAs domezday schulde haf ben di3t on \u00c3\u00bee morn.And sy\u00c3\u00been he mace hym as mery among \u00c3\u00bee fre ladyes,With comlych caroles and alle kynnes ioye,As neuer he did bot \u00c3\u00beat daye, to \u00c3\u00bee derk ny3t, with blys. Vche mon hade daynt\u00c3\u00a9 \u00c3\u00beare Of hym, and sayde, ‘Iwysse, \u00c3\u017eus myry he watz neuer are, Syn he com hider, er \u00c3\u00beis.’Now hym lenge in \u00c3\u00beat lee, \u00c3\u00beer luf hym bityde!3et is \u00c3\u00bee lorde on \u00c3\u00bee launde ledande his gomnes.He hatz forfaren \u00c3\u00beis fox \u00c3\u00beat he fol3ed longe;As he sprent ouer a spenne to spye \u00c3\u00bee schrewe,
\n“folio” n=”116v”
\n\u00c3\u017eer as he herd \u00c3\u00bee howndes \u00c3\u00beat hasted hym swy\u00c3\u00bee,Renaud com richchande \u00c3\u00beur3 a ro3e greue,And alle \u00c3\u00bee rabel in a res ry3t at his helez.\u00c3\u017ee wy3e watz war of \u00c3\u00bee wylde, and warly abides,And braydez out \u00c3\u00bee bry3t bronde, and at \u00c3\u00bee best castez.And he schunt for \u00c3\u00bee scharp, and schulde haf arered;A rach rapes hym to, ry3t er he my3t,And ry3t bifore \u00c3\u00bee hors fete \u00c3\u00beay fel on hym alle,
\n-53-<\/p>\n
And woried me \u00c3\u00beis wyly wyth a wroth noyse.\u00c3\u017ee lorde ly3tez bilyue, and lachez hym sone,Rased hym ful radly out of \u00c3\u00bee rach mou\u00c3\u00bees,Haldez he3e ouer his hede, halowez faste,And \u00c3\u00beer bayen hym mony bra\u00c3\u00be houndez.Huntes hy3ed hem \u00c3\u00beeder with hornez ful mony,Ay rechatande ary3t til \u00c3\u00beay \u00c3\u00bee renk se3en.Bi \u00c3\u00beat watz comen his compeyny noble,Alle \u00c3\u00beat euer ber bugle blowed at ones,And alle \u00c3\u00beise o\u00c3\u00beer halowed \u00c3\u00beat hade no hornes;Hit watz \u00c3\u00bee myriest mute \u00c3\u00beat euer men herde,\u00c3\u017ee rich rurd \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00beer watz raysed for Renaude saule with lote. Hor houndez \u00c3\u00beay \u00c3\u00beer rewarde, Her hedez \u00c3\u00beay fawne and frote, And sy\u00c3\u00been \u00c3\u00beay tan Reynarde, And tyruen of his cote.And \u00c3\u00beenne \u00c3\u00beay helden to home, for hit watz nie3 ny3t,Strakande ful stoutly in hor store hornez.\u00c3\u017ee lorde is ly3t at \u00c3\u00bee laste at hys lef home,Fyndez fire vpon flet, \u00c3\u00bee freke \u00c3\u00beer-byside,Sir Gawayn \u00c3\u00bee gode, \u00c3\u00beat glad watz withalle,Among \u00c3\u00bee ladies for luf he ladde much ioye;He were a bleaunt of blwe \u00c3\u00beat bradde to \u00c3\u00bee er\u00c3\u00bee,His surkot semed hym wel \u00c3\u00beat softe watz forred,And his hode of \u00c3\u00beat ilke henged on his schulder,Blande al of blaunner were bo\u00c3\u00bee al aboute.He metez me \u00c3\u00beis godmon inmyddez \u00c3\u00bee flore,And al with gomen he hym gret, and goudly he sayde,’I schal fylle vpon fyrst oure forwardez nou\u00c3\u00bee,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”117r”
\n\u00c3\u017eat we spedly han spoken, \u00c3\u00beer spared watz no drynk.’\u00c3\u017een acoles he \u00c3\u00bee kny3t and kysses hym \u00c3\u00beryes,As sauerly and sadly as he hem sette cou\u00c3\u00bee.’Bi Kryst,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00beat o\u00c3\u00beer kny3t, ‘3e cach much seleIn cheuisaunce of \u00c3\u00beis chaffer, 3if 3e hade goud chepez.”3e, of \u00c3\u00bee chepe no charg,’ quo\u00c3\u00be chefly \u00c3\u00beat o\u00c3\u00beer,’As is pertly payed \u00c3\u00bee chepez \u00c3\u00beat I a3te.’
\n-54-<\/p>\n
‘Mary,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00beat o\u00c3\u00beer mon, ‘myn is bihynde,For I haf hunted al \u00c3\u00beis day, and no3t haf I getenBot \u00c3\u00beis foule fox felle — \u00c3\u00bee fende haf \u00c3\u00bee godez! — And \u00c3\u00beat is ful pore for to pay for suche prys \u00c3\u00beingesAs 3e haf \u00c3\u00bery3t me here \u00c3\u00bero, suche \u00c3\u00bere cosses so gode.’ ‘Ino3,’ quo\u00c3\u00be Sir Gawayn, ‘I \u00c3\u00beonk yow, bi \u00c3\u00bee rode’, And how \u00c3\u00bee fox watz slayn He tolde hym as \u00c3\u00beay stode.With mer\u00c3\u00bee and mynstralsye, with metez at hor wylle,\u00c3\u017eay maden as mery as any men mo3ten — With la3yne of ladies, with lotez of bordesGawayn and \u00c3\u00bee godemon so glad were \u00c3\u00beay bo\u00c3\u00bee — Bot if \u00c3\u00bee douthe had doted, o\u00c3\u00beer dronken ben o\u00c3\u00beer.Bo\u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00bee mon and \u00c3\u00bee meyny maden mony iapez,Til \u00c3\u00bee sesoun watz se3en \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00beay seuer moste;Burnez to hor bedde behoued at \u00c3\u00bee laste.\u00c3\u017eenne lo3ly his leue at \u00c3\u00bee lorde fyrstFochchez \u00c3\u00beis fre mon, and fayre he hym \u00c3\u00beonkkez:’Of such a selly soiorne as I haf hade here,Your honour at \u00c3\u00beis hy3e fest, \u00c3\u00bee hy3e kyng yow 3elde!I 3ef yow me for on of yourez, if yowreself lykez,For I mot nedes, as 3e wot, meue to-morne,And 3e me take sum tolke to teche, as 3e hy3t,\u00c3\u017ee gate to \u00c3\u00bee grene chapel, as God wyl me sufferTo dele on Nw 3erez day \u00c3\u00bee dome of my wyrdes.”In god fay\u00c3\u00bee,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee godmon, ‘wyth a goud wylleAl \u00c3\u00beat euer I yow hy3t halde schal I red\u00c3\u00a9.’\u00c3\u017eer asyngnes he a seruaunt to sett hym in \u00c3\u00bee waye,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”117v”
\nAnd coundue hym by \u00c3\u00bee downez, \u00c3\u00beat he no drechch had,For to ferk \u00c3\u00beur3 \u00c3\u00bee fryth and fare at \u00c3\u00bee gaynest bi greue. \u00c3\u017ee lorde Gawayn con \u00c3\u00beonk, Such worchip he wolde hym weue. \u00c3\u017een at \u00c3\u00beo ladyez wlonk \u00c3\u017ee kny3t hatz tan his leue.
\n-55-<\/p>\n
With care and wyth kyssyng he carppez hem tille,And fele \u00c3\u00beryuande \u00c3\u00beonkkez he \u00c3\u00berat hom to haue,And \u00c3\u00beay 3elden hym a3ayn 3eply \u00c3\u00beat ilk;\u00c3\u017eay bikende hym to Kryst with ful colde sykyngez.Sy\u00c3\u00been fro \u00c3\u00bee meyny he menskly departes;Vche mon \u00c3\u00beat he mette, he made hem a \u00c3\u00beonkeFor his seruyse and his solace and his sere pyne,\u00c3\u017eat \u00c3\u00beay wyth busynes had ben aboute hym to serue;And vche segge as sor\u00c3\u00a9 to seuer with hym \u00c3\u00beereAs \u00c3\u00beay hade wonde wor\u00c3\u00beyly with \u00c3\u00beat wlonk euer.\u00c3\u017een with ledes and ly3t he watz ladde to his chambreAnd bly\u00c3\u00beely bro3t to his bedde to be at his rest.3if he ne slepe soundyly say ne dar I,For he hade muche on \u00c3\u00bee morn to mynne, 3if he wolde, in \u00c3\u00beo3t. Let hym ly3e \u00c3\u00beere stille, He hatz nere \u00c3\u00beat he so3t; And 3e wyl a whyle be stylle I schal telle yow how \u00c3\u00beay wro3t.Now ne3ez \u00c3\u00bee Nw 3ere, and \u00c3\u00bee ny3t passez,\u00c3\u017ee day dryuez to \u00c3\u00bee derk, as Dry3tyn biddez;Bot wylde wederez of \u00c3\u00bee worlde wakned \u00c3\u00beeroute,Clowdes kesten kenly \u00c3\u00bee colde to \u00c3\u00bee er\u00c3\u00bee,Wyth ny3e innoghe of \u00c3\u00bee nor\u00c3\u00bee, \u00c3\u00bee naked to tene;\u00c3\u017ee snawe snitered ful snart, \u00c3\u00beat snayped \u00c3\u00bee wylde;\u00c3\u017ee werbelande wynde wapped fro \u00c3\u00bee hy3e,And drof vche dale ful of dryftes ful grete.\u00c3\u017ee leude lystened ful wel \u00c3\u00beat le3 in his bedde,\u00c3\u017ea3 he lowkez his liddez, ful lyttel he slepes;Bi vch kok \u00c3\u00beat crue he knwe wel \u00c3\u00bee steuen.<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”118r”
\nDeliuerly he dressed vp, er \u00c3\u00bee day sprenged,For \u00c3\u00beere watz ly3t of a laumpe \u00c3\u00beat lemed in his chambre;He called to his chamberlayn, \u00c3\u00beat cofly hym swared,And bede hym bryng hym his bruny and his blonk sadel;
\n-56-<\/p>\n
\u00c3\u017eat o\u00c3\u00beer ferkez hym vp and fechez hym his wedez,And gray\u00c3\u00beez me Sir Gawayn vpon a grett wyse.Fyrst he clad hym in his clo\u00c3\u00beez \u00c3\u00bee colde for to were,And sy\u00c3\u00been his o\u00c3\u00beer harnays, \u00c3\u00beat holdely watz keped,Bo\u00c3\u00bee his paunce and his platez, piked ful clene,\u00c3\u017ee ryngez rokked of \u00c3\u00bee roust of his riche bruny;And al watz fresch as vpon fyrst, and he watz fayn \u00c3\u00beenne to \u00c3\u00beonk; He hade vpon vche pece, Wypped ful wel and wlonk; \u00c3\u017ee gayest into Grece, \u00c3\u017ee burne bede bryng his blonk.Whyle \u00c3\u00bee wlonkest wedes he warp on hymseluen — His cote wyth \u00c3\u00bee conysaunce of \u00c3\u00bee clere werkezEnnurned vpon veluet, vertuus stonezAboute beten and bounden, enbrauded semez,And fayre furred withinne wyth fayre pelures — 3et laft he not \u00c3\u00bee lace, \u00c3\u00bee ladiez gifte,\u00c3\u017eat forgat not Gawayn for gode of hymseluen.Bi he hade belted \u00c3\u00bee bronde vpon his bal3e haunchez,\u00c3\u017eenn dressed he his drurye double hym aboute,Swy\u00c3\u00bee swe\u00c3\u00beled vmbe his swange swetely \u00c3\u00beat kny3t\u00c3\u017ee gordel of \u00c3\u00bee grene silke, \u00c3\u00beat gay wel bisemed,Vpon \u00c3\u00beat ryol red clo\u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00beat ryche watz to schewe.Bot wered not \u00c3\u00beis ilk wy3e for wele \u00c3\u00beis gordel,For pryde of \u00c3\u00bee pendauntez, \u00c3\u00bea3 polyst \u00c3\u00beay were,And \u00c3\u00bea3 \u00c3\u00bee glyterande golde glent vpon endez,Bot for to sauen hymself, when suffer hym byhoued,To byde bale withoute dabate of bronde hym to were o\u00c3\u00beer knyffe. Bi \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bee bolde mon boun Wynnez \u00c3\u00beeroute bilyue, Alle \u00c3\u00bee meyny of renoun He \u00c3\u00beonkkez ofte ful ryue.<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”118v”
\nThenne watz Gryngolet gray\u00c3\u00bee, \u00c3\u00beat gret watz and huge,And hade ben soiourned sauerly and in a siker wyse,Hym lyst prik for poynt, \u00c3\u00beat proude hors \u00c3\u00beenne.
\n-57-<\/p>\n
\u00c3\u017ee wy3e wynnez hym to and wytez on his lyre,And sayde soberly hymself and by his soth swerez:’Here is a meyny in \u00c3\u00beis mote \u00c3\u00beat on menske \u00c3\u00beenkkez,\u00c3\u017ee mon hem maynteines, ioy mot \u00c3\u00beay haue;\u00c3\u017ee leue lady on lyue luf hir bityde;3if \u00c3\u00beay for charyt\u00c3\u00a9 cherysen a gest,And halden honour in her honde, \u00c3\u00bee ha\u00c3\u00beel hem 3elde\u00c3\u017eat haldez \u00c3\u00bee 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.’\u00c3\u017eenn 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 \u00c3\u00bee ston, stod he no lenger to praunce. His ha\u00c3\u00beel on hors watz \u00c3\u00beenne, \u00c3\u017eat bere his spere and launce. ‘\u00c3\u017eis kastel to Kryst I kenne’: He gef hit ay god chaunce.The brygge watz brayde doun, and \u00c3\u00bee brode 3atezVnbarred and born open vpon bo\u00c3\u00bee halue.\u00c3\u017ee burne blessed hym bilyue, and \u00c3\u00bee bredez passed — Prayses \u00c3\u00bee porter bifore \u00c3\u00bee prynce kneled,Gef hym God and goud day, \u00c3\u00beat Gawayn he saue — And went on his way with his wy3e one,\u00c3\u017eat schulde teche hym to tourne to \u00c3\u00beat tene place\u00c3\u017eer \u00c3\u00bee ruful race he schulde resayue.\u00c3\u017eay bo3en bi bonkkez \u00c3\u00beer bo3ez ar bare,\u00c3\u017eay clomben bi clyffez \u00c3\u00beer clengez \u00c3\u00bee colde.\u00c3\u017ee heuen watz vphalt, bot vgly \u00c3\u00beer-vnder;Mist muged on \u00c3\u00bee mor, malt on \u00c3\u00bee mountez,Vch hille hade a hatte, a myst-hakel huge.Brokez byled and breke bi bonkkez aboute,Schyre schaterande on schorez, \u00c3\u00beer \u00c3\u00beay doun schowued.<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”119r”
\nWela wylle watz \u00c3\u00bee way \u00c3\u00beer \u00c3\u00beay bi wod schulden,Til hit watz sone sesoun \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bee sunne ryses \u00c3\u00beat tyde. \u00c3\u017eay were on a hille ful hy3e, \u00c3\u017ee quyte snaw lay bisyde;
\n-58-<\/p>\n
\u00c3\u017ee burne \u00c3\u00beat rod hym by Bede his mayster abide.’For I haf wonnen yow hider, wy3e, at \u00c3\u00beis tyme,And now nar 3e not fer fro \u00c3\u00beat note place\u00c3\u017eat 3e han spied and spuryed so specially after;Bot I schal say yow for so\u00c3\u00bee, sy\u00c3\u00been I yow knowe,And 3e ar a lede vpon lyue \u00c3\u00beat I wel louy,Wolde 3e worch bi my wytte, 3e wor\u00c3\u00beed \u00c3\u00bee better.\u00c3\u017ee place \u00c3\u00beat 3e prece to ful perelous is halden;\u00c3\u017eer wonez a wy3e in \u00c3\u00beat waste, \u00c3\u00bee worst vpon er\u00c3\u00bee,For he is stiffe and sturne, and to strike louies,And more he is \u00c3\u00been any mon vpon myddelerde,And his body bigger \u00c3\u00been \u00c3\u00bee best fowre\u00c3\u017eat ar in Ar\u00c3\u00beurez hous, Hestor, o\u00c3\u00beer o\u00c3\u00beer.He cheuez \u00c3\u00beat chaunce at \u00c3\u00bee chapel grene,\u00c3\u017eer passes non bi \u00c3\u00beat place so proude in his armes\u00c3\u017eat he ne dyngez hym to de\u00c3\u00bee with dynt of his honde;For he is a mon methles, and mercy non vses,For be hit chorle o\u00c3\u00beer chaplayn \u00c3\u00beat bi \u00c3\u00bee chapel rydes,Monk o\u00c3\u00beer masseprest, o\u00c3\u00beer any mon elles,Hym \u00c3\u00beynk as queme hym to quelle as quyk go hymseluen.For\u00c3\u00bey I say \u00c3\u00bee, as so\u00c3\u00bee as 3e in sadel sitte,Com 3e \u00c3\u00beere, 3e be kylled, may \u00c3\u00bee kny3t rede,Trawe 3e me \u00c3\u00beat trwely, \u00c3\u00bea3 3e had twenty lyues to spende. He hatz wonyd here ful 3ore, On bent much baret bende, A3ayn his dyntez sore 3e may not yow defende.’For\u00c3\u00bey, goude Sir Gawayn, let \u00c3\u00bee gome one,And gotz away sum o\u00c3\u00beer gate, vpon Goddez halue!Cayrez bi sum o\u00c3\u00beer kyth, \u00c3\u00beer Kryst mot yow spede,And I schal hy3 me hom a3ayn, and hete yow fyrre
\n“folio” n=”119v”
\n\u00c3\u017eat I schal swere bi God and alle his gode hal3ez,As help me God and \u00c3\u00bee halydam, and o\u00c3\u00beez innoghe,\u00c3\u017eat I schal lelly yow layne, and lance neuer tale\u00c3\u017eat euer 3e fondet to fle for freke \u00c3\u00beat I wyst.’
\n-59-<\/p>\n
‘Grant merci’, quo\u00c3\u00be Gawayn, and gruchyng he sayde:’Wel worth \u00c3\u00bee, wy3e, \u00c3\u00beat woldez my gode,And \u00c3\u00beat lelly me layne I leue wel \u00c3\u00beou woldez.Bot helde \u00c3\u00beou hit neuer so holde, and I here passed,Founded for ferde for to fle, in fourme \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00beou tellez,I were a kny3t kowarde, I my3t not be excused.Bot I wyl to \u00c3\u00bee chapel, for chaunce \u00c3\u00beat may falle,And talk wyth \u00c3\u00beat ilk tulk \u00c3\u00bee tale \u00c3\u00beat me lyste,Wor\u00c3\u00bee hit wele o\u00c3\u00beer wo, as \u00c3\u00bee wyrde lykez hit hafe. \u00c3\u017ea3e he be a sturn knape To sti3tel, and stad with staue, Ful wel con Dry3tyn schape His seruauntez for to saue.”Mary!’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00beat o\u00c3\u00beer mon, ‘now \u00c3\u00beou so much spellez,\u00c3\u017eat \u00c3\u00beou wylt \u00c3\u00beyn awen nye nyme to \u00c3\u00beyseluen,And \u00c3\u00bee lyst lese \u00c3\u00bey lyf, \u00c3\u00bee lette I ne kepe.Haf here \u00c3\u00bei helme on \u00c3\u00bey hede, \u00c3\u00bei spere in \u00c3\u00bei honde,And ryde me doun \u00c3\u00beis ilk rake bi 3on rokke syde,Til \u00c3\u00beou be bro3t to \u00c3\u00bee bo\u00c3\u00beem of \u00c3\u00bee brem valay;\u00c3\u017eenne loke a littel on \u00c3\u00bee launde, on \u00c3\u00bei lyfte honde,And \u00c3\u00beou schal se in \u00c3\u00beat slade \u00c3\u00bee self chapel,And \u00c3\u00bee borelych burne on bent \u00c3\u00beat hit kepez.Now farez wel, on Godez half, Gawayn \u00c3\u00bee noble!For alle \u00c3\u00bee golde vpon grounde I nolde go wyth \u00c3\u00bee,Ne bere \u00c3\u00bee fela3schip \u00c3\u00beur3 \u00c3\u00beis fryth on fote fyrre.’Bi \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bee wy3e in \u00c3\u00bee wod wendez his brydel,Hit \u00c3\u00bee hors with \u00c3\u00bee helez as harde as he my3t,Lepez hym ouer \u00c3\u00bee launde, and leuez \u00c3\u00bee kny3t \u00c3\u00beere al one. ‘Bi Goddez self,’ quo\u00c3\u00be Gawayn, ‘I wyl nau\u00c3\u00beer grete ne grone; To Goddez wylle I am ful bayn, And to hym I haf me tone.’
\n“folio” n=”120r”
\nThenne gyrdez he to Gryngolet, and gederez \u00c3\u00bee rake,Schowuez in bi a schore at a scha3e syde,Ridez \u00c3\u00beur3 \u00c3\u00bee ro3e bonk ry3t to \u00c3\u00bee dale;
\n-60-<\/p>\n
And \u00c3\u00beenne he wayted hym aboute, and wylde hit hym \u00c3\u00beo3t,And se3e no syngne of resette bisydez nowhere,Bot hy3e bonkkez and brent vpon bo\u00c3\u00bee halue,And ru3e knokled knarrez with knorned stonez;\u00c3\u017ee skwez of \u00c3\u00bee scowtes skayned hym \u00c3\u00beo3t.\u00c3\u017eenne he houed, and wythhylde his hors at \u00c3\u00beat tyde,And ofte chaunged his cher \u00c3\u00bee chapel to seche:He se3 non suche in no syde, and selly hym \u00c3\u00beo3t,Saue, a lyttel on a launde, a lawe as hit were;A bal3 ber3 bi a bonke \u00c3\u00bee brymme bysyde,Bi a for3 of a flode \u00c3\u00beat ferked \u00c3\u00beare;\u00c3\u017ee borne blubred \u00c3\u00beerinne as hit boyled hade.\u00c3\u017ee kny3t kachez his caple, and com to \u00c3\u00bee lawe,Li3tez doun luflyly, and at a lynde tachez\u00c3\u017ee rayne and his riche with a ro3e braunche.\u00c3\u017eenne he bo3ez to \u00c3\u00bee ber3e, aboute hit he walkez,Debatande with hymself quat hit be my3t.Hit hade a hole on \u00c3\u00bee ende and on ay\u00c3\u00beer syde,And ouergrowen with gresse in glodes aywhere,And al watz hol3 inwith, nobot an olde caue,Or a creuisse of an olde cragge, he cou\u00c3\u00bee hit no3t deme with spelle. ‘We! Lorde,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee gentyle kny3t, ‘Whe\u00c3\u00beer \u00c3\u00beis be \u00c3\u00bee grene chapelle? Here my3t aboute mydny3t \u00c3\u017ee dele his matynnes telle!’Now iwysse,’ quo\u00c3\u00be Wowayn, ‘wysty is here;\u00c3\u017eis oritore is vgly, with erbez ouergrowen;Wel bisemez \u00c3\u00bee wy3e wruxled in greneDele here his deuocioun on \u00c3\u00bee deuelez wyse.Now I fele hit is \u00c3\u00bee fende, in my fyue wyttez,\u00c3\u017eat hatz stoken me \u00c3\u00beis steuen to strye me here.\u00c3\u017eis is a chapel of meschaunce, \u00c3\u00beat chekke hit bytyde!Hit is \u00c3\u00bee corsedest kyrk \u00c3\u00beat euer I com inne!’<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”120v”
\nWith he3e helme on his hede, his launce in his honde,He romez vp to \u00c3\u00bee roffe of \u00c3\u00bee ro3 wonez.
\n-61-<\/p>\n
\u00c3\u017eene herde he of \u00c3\u00beat hy3e hil, in a harde rocheBi3onde \u00c3\u00bee broke, in a bonk, a wonder breme noyse,Quat! hit clatered in \u00c3\u00bee clyff, as hit cleue schulde,As one vpon a gryndelston hade grounden a sy\u00c3\u00bee.What! hit wharred and whette, as water at a mulne;What! hit rusched and ronge, raw\u00c3\u00bee to here.\u00c3\u017eenne ‘Bi Godde,’ quo\u00c3\u00be Gawayn, ‘\u00c3\u00beat gere, as I trowe,Is ryched at \u00c3\u00bee reuerence me, renk, to mete bi rote. Let God worche! “We loo” — Hit helppez me not a mote. My lif \u00c3\u00bea3 I forgoo, Drede dotz me no lote.’Thenne \u00c3\u00bee kny3t con calle ful hy3e:’Who sti3tlez in \u00c3\u00beis sted me steuen to holde?For now is gode Gawayn goande ry3t here.If any wy3e o3t wyl, wynne hider fast,O\u00c3\u00beer now o\u00c3\u00beer neuer, his nedez to spede.”Abyde’, quo\u00c3\u00be on on \u00c3\u00bee bonke abouen ouer his hede,’And \u00c3\u00beou schal haf al in hast \u00c3\u00beat I \u00c3\u00bee hy3t ones.’3et he rusched on \u00c3\u00beat rurde rapely a \u00c3\u00berowe.And wyth quettyng awharf, er he wolde ly3t;And sy\u00c3\u00been he keuerez bi a cragge, and comez of a hole,Whyrlande out of a wro wyth a felle weppen,A denez ax nwe dy3t, \u00c3\u00bee dynt with to 3elde,With a borelych bytte bende by \u00c3\u00bee halme,Fyled in a fylor, fowre fote large — Hit watz no lasse bi \u00c3\u00beat lace \u00c3\u00beat lemed ful bry3t — And \u00c3\u00bee gome in \u00c3\u00bee grene gered as fyrst,Bo\u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00bee lyre and \u00c3\u00bee leggez, lokkez and berde,Saue \u00c3\u00beat fayre on his fote he foundez on \u00c3\u00bee er\u00c3\u00bee,Sette \u00c3\u00bee stele to \u00c3\u00bee stone, and stalked bysyde.When he wan to \u00c3\u00bee watter, \u00c3\u00beer he wade nolde,He hypped ouer on hys ax, and orpedly strydez,Bremly bro\u00c3\u00bee on a bent \u00c3\u00beat brode watz aboute, on snawe.<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”121r”
\nSir Gawayn \u00c3\u00bee kny3t con mete, He ne lutte hym no\u00c3\u00beyng lowe;
\n-62-<\/p>\n
\u00c3\u017eat o\u00c3\u00beer sayde, ‘Now, sir swete, Of steuen mon may \u00c3\u00bee trowe.”Gawayn,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00beat grene gome, ‘God \u00c3\u00bee mot loke!Iwysse \u00c3\u00beou art welcom, wy3e, to my place,And \u00c3\u00beou hatz tymed \u00c3\u00bei trauayl as truee mon schulde,And \u00c3\u00beou knowez \u00c3\u00bee couenauntez kest vus bytwene:At \u00c3\u00beis tyme twelmonyth \u00c3\u00beou toke \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bee falled,And I schulde at \u00c3\u00beis Nwe 3ere 3eply \u00c3\u00bee quyte.And we ar in \u00c3\u00beis valay verayly oure one;Here ar no renkes vs to rydde, rele as vus likez.Haf \u00c3\u00bey helme of \u00c3\u00bey hede, and haf here \u00c3\u00bey pay.Busk no more debate \u00c3\u00been I \u00c3\u00bee bede \u00c3\u00beenneWhen \u00c3\u00beou wypped of my hede at a wap one.”Nay, bi God,’ quo\u00c3\u00be Gawayn, ‘\u00c3\u00beat me gost lante,I schal gruch \u00c3\u00bee no grwe for grem \u00c3\u00beat fallez.Bot sty3tel \u00c3\u00bee vpon on strok, and I schal stonde stylleAnd warp \u00c3\u00bee no wernyng to worch as \u00c3\u00bee lykez, nowhare.’ He lened with \u00c3\u00bee nek, and lutte, And schewed \u00c3\u00beat schyre al bare, And lette as he no3t dutte; For drede he wolde not dare.THEN \u00c3\u00bee gome in \u00c3\u00bee grene gray\u00c3\u00beed hym swy\u00c3\u00bee,Gederez vp hys grymme tole Gawayn to smyte;With alle \u00c3\u00bee bur in his body he ber hit on lofte,Munt as ma3tyly as marre hym he wolde;Hade hit dryuen adoun as dre3 as he atled,\u00c3\u017eer hade ben ded of his dynt \u00c3\u00beat do3ty watz euer.Bot Gawayn on \u00c3\u00beat giserne glyfte hym bysyde,As hit com glydande adoun on glode hym to schende,And schranke a lytel with \u00c3\u00bee schulderes for \u00c3\u00bee scharp yrne.\u00c3\u017eat o\u00c3\u00beer schalk wyth a schunt \u00c3\u00bee schene wythhaldez,And \u00c3\u00beenne repreued he \u00c3\u00bee prynce with mony prowde wordez:’\u00c3\u017eou art not Gawayn,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee gome, ‘\u00c3\u00beat is so goud halden,\u00c3\u017eat neuer ar3ed for no here by hylle ne be vale,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”121v”
\nAnd now \u00c3\u00beou fles for ferde er \u00c3\u00beou fele harmez!Such cowardise of \u00c3\u00beat kny3t cow\u00c3\u00bee I neuer here.
\n-63-<\/p>\n
Naw\u00c3\u00beer fyked I ne fla3e, freke, quen \u00c3\u00beou myntest,Ne kest no kauelacion in kyngez hous Arthor.My hede fla3 to my fote, and 3et fla3 I neuer;And \u00c3\u00beou, er any harme hent, ar3ez in hert;Wherfore \u00c3\u00bee better burne me burde be called \u00c3\u00beerfore.’ Quo\u00c3\u00be Gawayn, ‘I schunt onez, And so wyl I no more; Bot \u00c3\u00bea3 my hede falle on \u00c3\u00bee stonez, I con not hit restore.’Bot busk, burne, bi \u00c3\u00bei fayth, and bryng me to \u00c3\u00bee poynt.Dele to me my destin\u00c3\u00a9, and do hit out of honde,For I schal stonde \u00c3\u00bee a strok, and start no moreTil \u00c3\u00beyn ax haue me hitte: haf here my traw\u00c3\u00bee.”Haf at \u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00beenne!’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00beat o\u00c3\u00beer, and heuez hit alofte,And waytez as wro\u00c3\u00beely as he wode were.He myntez at hym ma3tyly, bot not \u00c3\u00bee mon rynez,Withhelde heterly his honde, er hit hurt my3t.Gawayn gray\u00c3\u00beely hit bydez, and glent with no membre,Bot stode stylle as \u00c3\u00bee ston, o\u00c3\u00beer a stubbe au\u00c3\u00beer\u00c3\u017eat ra\u00c3\u00beeled is in roch\u00c3\u00a9 grounde with rotez a hundreth.\u00c3\u017een muryly efte con he mele, \u00c3\u00bee mon in \u00c3\u00bee grene:’So, now \u00c3\u00beou hatz \u00c3\u00bei hert holle, hitte me bihous.Halde \u00c3\u00bee now \u00c3\u00bee hy3e hode \u00c3\u00beat Ar\u00c3\u00beur \u00c3\u00bee ra3t,And kepe \u00c3\u00bey kanel at \u00c3\u00beis kest, 3if hit keuer may.’Gawayn ful gryndelly with greme \u00c3\u00beenne sayde:’Wy! \u00c3\u00beresch on, \u00c3\u00beou \u00c3\u00bero mon, \u00c3\u00beou \u00c3\u00beretez to longe;I hope \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bei hert ar3e wyth \u00c3\u00beyn awen seluen.”For so\u00c3\u00bee,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00beat o\u00c3\u00beer freke, ‘so felly \u00c3\u00beou spekez,I wyl no lenger on lyte lette \u00c3\u00bein ernde ri3t nowe.’ \u00c3\u017eenne tas he hym stry\u00c3\u00bee to stryke, And frounsez bo\u00c3\u00bee lyppe and browe; No meruayle \u00c3\u00bea3 hym myslyke \u00c3\u017eat hoped of no rescowe.He lyftes ly3tly his lome, and let hit doun fayre<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”122r”
\nWith \u00c3\u00bee barbe of \u00c3\u00bee bitte bi \u00c3\u00bee bare nek;
\n-64-<\/p>\n
\u00c3\u017ea3 he homered heterly, hurt hym no moreBot snyrt hym on \u00c3\u00beat on syde, \u00c3\u00beat seuered \u00c3\u00bee hyde.\u00c3\u017ee scharp schrank to \u00c3\u00bee flesche \u00c3\u00beur3 \u00c3\u00bee schyre grece,\u00c3\u017eat \u00c3\u00bee schene blod ouer his schulderes schot to \u00c3\u00bee er\u00c3\u00bee;And quen \u00c3\u00bee burne se3 \u00c3\u00bee blode blenk on \u00c3\u00bee snawe,He sprit forth spenne-fote more \u00c3\u00been a spere len\u00c3\u00bee,Hent heterly his helme, and on his hed cast,Schot with his schulderez his fayre schelde vnder,Braydez out a bry3t sworde, and bremely he spekez — Neuer syn \u00c3\u00beat he watz burne borne of his moderWatz he neuer in \u00c3\u00beis worlde wy3e half so bly\u00c3\u00bee — ‘Blynne, burne, of \u00c3\u00bey bur, bede me no mo!I haf a stroke in \u00c3\u00beis sted withoute stryf hent,And if \u00c3\u00beow rechez me any mo, I redyly schal quyte,And 3elde 3ederly a3ayn — and \u00c3\u00beerto 3e tryst — and foo. Bot on stroke here me fallez — \u00c3\u017ee couenaunt schop ry3t so, Fermed in Ar\u00c3\u00beurez hallez — And \u00c3\u00beerfore, hende, now hoo!’The ha\u00c3\u00beel heldet hym fro, and on his ax rested,Sette \u00c3\u00bee schaft vpon schore, and to \u00c3\u00bee scharp lened,And loked to \u00c3\u00bee leude \u00c3\u00beat on \u00c3\u00bee launde 3ede,How \u00c3\u00beat do3ty, dredles, deruely \u00c3\u00beer stondezArmed, ful a3lez: in hert hit hym lykez.\u00c3\u017eenn he melez muryly wyth a much steuen,And wyth a rynkande rurde he to \u00c3\u00bee renk sayde:’Bolde burne, on \u00c3\u00beis bent be not so gryndel.No mon here vnmanerly \u00c3\u00bee mysboden habbez,Ne kyd bot as couenaunde at kyngez kort schaped.I hy3t \u00c3\u00bee a strok and \u00c3\u00beou hit hatz, halde \u00c3\u00bee wel payed;I relece \u00c3\u00bee of \u00c3\u00bee remnaunt of ry3tes alle o\u00c3\u00beer.Iif I deliuer had bene, a boffet paraunterI cou\u00c3\u00bee wro\u00c3\u00beeloker haf waret, to \u00c3\u00bee haf wro3t anger.Fyrst I mansed \u00c3\u00bee muryly with a mynt one,And roue \u00c3\u00bee wyth no rof-sore, with ry3t I \u00c3\u00bee profered<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”122v”<\/p>\n
-65-<\/p>\n
For \u00c3\u00bee forwarde \u00c3\u00beat we fest in \u00c3\u00bee fyrst ny3t,And \u00c3\u00beou trystyly \u00c3\u00bee traw\u00c3\u00bee and trwly me haldez,Al \u00c3\u00bee gayne \u00c3\u00beow me gef, as god mon schulde.\u00c3\u017eat o\u00c3\u00beer munt for \u00c3\u00bee morne, mon, I \u00c3\u00bee profered,\u00c3\u017eou kyssedes my clere wyf — \u00c3\u00bee cossez me ra3tez.For bo\u00c3\u00bee two here I \u00c3\u00bee bede bot two bare myntes boute sca\u00c3\u00bee. Trwe mon trwe restore, \u00c3\u017eenne \u00c3\u00bear mon drede no wa\u00c3\u00bee. At \u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00berid \u00c3\u00beou fayled \u00c3\u00beore, And \u00c3\u00beerfor \u00c3\u00beat tappe ta \u00c3\u00bee.’For hit is my wede \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00beou werez, \u00c3\u00beat ilke wouen girdel,Myn owen wyf hit \u00c3\u00bee weued, I wot wel for so\u00c3\u00bee.Now know I wel \u00c3\u00bey cosses, and \u00c3\u00bey costes als,And \u00c3\u00bee wowyng of my wyf: I wro3t hit myseluen.I sende hir to asay \u00c3\u00bee, and sothly me \u00c3\u00beynkkezOn \u00c3\u00bee fautlest freke \u00c3\u00beat euer on fote 3ede;As perle bi \u00c3\u00bee quite pese is of prys more,So is Gawayn, in god fayth, bi o\u00c3\u00beer gay kny3tez.Bot here yow lakked a lyttel, sir, and lewt\u00c3\u00a9 yow wonted;Bot \u00c3\u00beat watz for no wylyde werke, ne wowyng nau\u00c3\u00beer,Bot for 3e lufed your lyf; \u00c3\u00bee lasse I yow blame.’\u00c3\u017eat o\u00c3\u00beer stif mon in study stod a gret whyle,So agreued for greme he gryed withinne;Alle \u00c3\u00bee blode of his brest blende in his face,\u00c3\u017eat al he schrank for schome \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bee schalk talked.\u00c3\u017ee forme worde vpon folde \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bee freke meled:’Corsed worth cowarddyse and couetyse bo\u00c3\u00bee!In yow is vylany and vyse \u00c3\u00beat vertue disstryez.’\u00c3\u017eenne he ka3t to \u00c3\u00bee knot, and \u00c3\u00bee kest lawsez,Brayde bro\u00c3\u00beely \u00c3\u00bee belt to \u00c3\u00bee burne seluen:’Lo! \u00c3\u00beer \u00c3\u00bee falssyng, foule mot hit falle!For care of \u00c3\u00bey knokke cowardyse me ta3tTo acorde me with couetyse, my kynde to forsake,\u00c3\u017eat is larges and lewt\u00c3\u00a9 \u00c3\u00beat longez to kny3tez.Now am I fawty and falce, and ferde haf ben euerOf trecherye and vntraw\u00c3\u00bee: bo\u00c3\u00bee bityde sor3e and care!<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”123r”<\/p>\n
-66-<\/p>\n
I biknowe yow, kny3t, here stylle, Al fawty is my fare; Letez me ouertake your wylle And efte I schal be ware.’Thenn lo3e \u00c3\u00beat o\u00c3\u00beer leude and luflyly sayde:’I halde hit hardily hole, \u00c3\u00bee harme \u00c3\u00beat I hade.\u00c3\u017eou art confessed so clene, beknowen of \u00c3\u00bey mysses,And hatz \u00c3\u00bee penaunce apert of \u00c3\u00bee poynt of myn egge,I halde \u00c3\u00bee polysed of \u00c3\u00beat ply3t, and pured as cleneAs \u00c3\u00beou hadez neuer forfeted sy\u00c3\u00been \u00c3\u00beou watz fyrst borne;And I gif \u00c3\u00bee, sir, \u00c3\u00bee gurdel \u00c3\u00beat is golde-hemmed,For hit is grene as my goune. Sir Gawayn, 3e maye\u00c3\u017eenk vpon \u00c3\u00beis ilke \u00c3\u00berepe, \u00c3\u00beer \u00c3\u00beou forth \u00c3\u00beryngezAmong prynces of prys, and \u00c3\u00beis a pure tokenOf \u00c3\u00bee chaunce of \u00c3\u00bee grene chapel at cheualrous kny3tez.And 3e schal in \u00c3\u00beis Nwe 3er a3ayn to my wonez,And we schyn reuel \u00c3\u00bee remnaunt of \u00c3\u00beis ryche fest ful bene.’ \u00c3\u017eer la\u00c3\u00beed hym fast \u00c3\u00bee lorde And sayde: ‘With my wyf, I wene, We schal yow wel acorde, \u00c3\u017eat watz your enmy kene.”Nay, for so\u00c3\u00bee,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee segge, and sesed hys helme,And hatz hit of hendely, and \u00c3\u00bee ha\u00c3\u00beel \u00c3\u00beonkkez,’I haf soiorned sadly; sele yow bytyde,And he 3elde hit yow 3are \u00c3\u00beat 3arkkez al menskes!And comaundez me to \u00c3\u00beat cortays, your comlych fere,Bo\u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00beat on and \u00c3\u00beat o\u00c3\u00beer, myn honoured ladyez,\u00c3\u017eat \u00c3\u00beus hor kny3t wyth hor kest han koyntly bigyled.Bot hit is no ferly \u00c3\u00bea3 a fole madde,And \u00c3\u00beur3 wyles of wymmen be wonen to sor3e,For so watz Adam in erde with one bygyled,And Salamon with fele sere, and Samson eftsonez — Dalyda dalt hym hys wyrde — and Dauyth \u00c3\u00beerafterWatz blended with Barsabe, \u00c3\u00beat much bale \u00c3\u00beoled.Now \u00c3\u00beese were wrathed wyth her wyles, hit were a wynne huge
\n-67-<\/p>\n
To luf hom wel, and leue hem not, a leude \u00c3\u00beat cou\u00c3\u00bee.<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”123v”
\nFor \u00c3\u00bees wer forne \u00c3\u00bee freest, \u00c3\u00beat fol3ed alle \u00c3\u00bee seleExellently of alle \u00c3\u00beyse o\u00c3\u00beer, vnder heuenryche \u00c3\u00beat mused; And alle \u00c3\u00beay were biwyled With wymmen \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00beay vsed. \u00c3\u017ea3 I be now bigyled, Me \u00c3\u00beink me burde be excused.’Bot your gordel’, quo\u00c3\u00be Gawayn, ‘God yow for3elde!\u00c3\u017eat wyl I welde wyth guod wylle, not for \u00c3\u00bee wynne golde,Ne \u00c3\u00bee saynt, ne \u00c3\u00bee sylk, ne \u00c3\u00bee syde pendaundes,For wele ne for worchyp, ne for \u00c3\u00bee wlonk werkkez,Bot in syngne of my surfet I schal se hit ofte,When I ride in renoun, remorde to myseluen\u00c3\u017ee faut and \u00c3\u00bee fayntyse of \u00c3\u00bee flesche crabbed,How tender hit is to entyse teches of fyl\u00c3\u00bee;And \u00c3\u00beus, quen pryde schal me pryk for prowes of armes,\u00c3\u017ee loke to \u00c3\u00beis luf-lace schal le\u00c3\u00bee my hert.Bot on I wolde yow pray, displeses yow neuer:Syn 3e be lorde of \u00c3\u00bee 3onder londe \u00c3\u00beer I haf lent inneWyth yow wyth worschyp — \u00c3\u00bee wy3e hit yow 3elde\u00c3\u017eat vphaldez \u00c3\u00bee heuen and on hy3 sittez — How norne 3e yowre ry3t nome, and \u00c3\u00beenne no more?”\u00c3\u017eat schal I telle \u00c3\u00bee trwly,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00beat o\u00c3\u00beer \u00c3\u00beenne,’Bertilak de Hautdesert I hat in \u00c3\u00beis londe.\u00c3\u017eur3 my3t of Morgne la Faye, \u00c3\u00beat in my hous lenges,And koyntyse of clergye, bi craftes wel lerned,\u00c3\u017ee maystr\u00c3\u00a9s of Merlyn mony hatz taken — For ho hatz dalt drwry ful dere sumtymeWith \u00c3\u00beat conable klerk, \u00c3\u00beat knowes alle your kny3tez at hame; Morgne \u00c3\u00bee goddes \u00c3\u017eerfore hit is hir name: Weldez non so hy3e hawtesse \u00c3\u017eat ho ne con make ful tame — ‘Ho wayned me vpon \u00c3\u00beis wyse to your wynne halleFor to assay \u00c3\u00bee surquidr\u00c3\u00a9, 3if hit soth were \u00c3\u017eat rennes of \u00c3\u00bee grete renoun of \u00c3\u00bee Rounde Table;Ho wayned me \u00c3\u00beis wonder your wyttez to reue,
\n
\n-68-
\n“folio” n=”124r”
\nFor to haf greued Gaynour and gart hir to dy3eWith glopnyng of \u00c3\u00beat ilke gome \u00c3\u00beat gostlych spekedWith his hede in his honde bifore \u00c3\u00bee hy3e table.\u00c3\u017eat is ho \u00c3\u00beat is at home, \u00c3\u00bee auncian lady;Ho is euen \u00c3\u00beyn aunt, Ar\u00c3\u00beurez half-suster,\u00c3\u017ee duches do3ter of Tyntagelle, \u00c3\u00beat dere Vter afterHade Ar\u00c3\u00beur vpon, \u00c3\u00beat a\u00c3\u00beel is now\u00c3\u00bee.\u00c3\u017eerfore I e\u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00bee, ha\u00c3\u00beel, to com to \u00c3\u00beyn aunt,Make myry in my hous; my meny \u00c3\u00bee louies,And I wol \u00c3\u00bee as wel, wy3e, bi my faythe,As any gome vnder God for \u00c3\u00bey grete trau\u00c3\u00bee.’And he nikked hym naye, he nolde bi no wayes.\u00c3\u017eay acolen and kyssen and kennen ay\u00c3\u00beer o\u00c3\u00beerTo \u00c3\u00bee prynce of paradise, and parten ry3t \u00c3\u00beere on coolde; Gawayn on blonk ful bene To \u00c3\u00bee knygez bur3 buskez bolde, And \u00c3\u00bee kny3t in \u00c3\u00bee enker-grene Whiderwarde-so-euer he wolde.Wylde wayez in \u00c3\u00bee worlde Wowen now rydezOn Gryngolet, \u00c3\u00beat \u00c3\u00bee grace hade geten of his lyue;Ofte he herbered in house and ofte al \u00c3\u00beeroute,And mony aventure in vale, and venquyst ofte,\u00c3\u017eat I ne ty3t at \u00c3\u00beis tyme in tale to remene.\u00c3\u017ee hurt watz hole \u00c3\u00beat he hade hent in his nek,And \u00c3\u00bee blykkande belt he bere \u00c3\u00beerabouteAbelef as a bauderyk bounden bi his syde,Loken vnder his lyfte arme, \u00c3\u00bee lace, with a knot,In tokenyng he watz tane in tech of a faute.And \u00c3\u00beus he commes to \u00c3\u00bee court, kny3t al in sounde.\u00c3\u017eer wakned wele in \u00c3\u00beat wone when wyst \u00c3\u00bee grete\u00c3\u017eat gode Gawayn watz commen; gayn hit hym \u00c3\u00beo3t.\u00c3\u017ee kyng kyssez \u00c3\u00bee kny3t, and \u00c3\u00bee whene alce,And sy\u00c3\u00been mony syker kny3t \u00c3\u00beat so3t hym to haylce,Of his fare \u00c3\u00beat hym frayned; and ferlyly he telles,
\n-69-<\/p>\n
Biknowez alle \u00c3\u00bee costes of care \u00c3\u00beat he hade,\u00c3\u017ee chaunce of \u00c3\u00bee chapel, \u00c3\u00bee chere of \u00c3\u00bee kny3t,<\/p>\n
“folio” n=”124v”
\n\u00c3\u017ee luf of \u00c3\u00bee ladi, \u00c3\u00bee lace at \u00c3\u00bee last.\u00c3\u017ee nirt in \u00c3\u00bee nek he naked hem schewed\u00c3\u017eat he la3t for his vnleut\u00c3\u00a9 at \u00c3\u00bee leudes hondes for blame. He tened quen he schulde telle, He groned for gref and grame; \u00c3\u017ee blod in his face con melle, When he hit schulde schewe, for schame.’Lo! lorde,’ quo\u00c3\u00be \u00c3\u00bee leude, and \u00c3\u00bee lace hondeled,’\u00c3\u017eis is \u00c3\u00bee bende of \u00c3\u00beis blame I bere in my nek,\u00c3\u017eis is \u00c3\u00bee la\u00c3\u00bee and \u00c3\u00bee losse \u00c3\u00beat I la3t haueOf couardise and couetyse \u00c3\u00beat I haf ca3t \u00c3\u00beare;\u00c3\u017eis is \u00c3\u00bee token of vntraw\u00c3\u00bee \u00c3\u00beat I am tan inne,And I mot nedez hit were wyle I may last;For mon may hyden his harme, bot vnhap ne may hit,For \u00c3\u00beer hit onez is tachched twynne wil hit neuer.’\u00c3\u017ee kyng comfortez \u00c3\u00bee kny3t, and alle \u00c3\u00bee court alsLa3en loude \u00c3\u00beerat, and luflyly acorden\u00c3\u017eat lordes and ladis \u00c3\u00beat longed to \u00c3\u00bee Table,Vche burne of \u00c3\u00bee bro\u00c3\u00beerhede, a bauderyk schulde haue,A bende abelef hym aboute of a bry3t grene,And \u00c3\u00beat, for sake of \u00c3\u00beat segge, in swete to were.For \u00c3\u00beat watz acorded \u00c3\u00bee renoun of \u00c3\u00bee Rounde Table,And he honoured \u00c3\u00beat hit hade euermore after,As hit is breued in \u00c3\u00bee best boke of romaunce.\u00c3\u017eus in Arthurus day \u00c3\u00beis aunter bitidde,\u00c3\u017ee Brutus bokez \u00c3\u00beerof beres wyttenesse;Syphen Brutus, \u00c3\u00bee bolde burne, bo3ed hider fyrst,After \u00c3\u00bee segge and \u00c3\u00bee asaute watz sesed at Troye, iwysse, Mony aunterez here-biforne Haf fallen suche er \u00c3\u00beis. Now \u00c3\u00beat here \u00c3\u00bee croun of \u00c3\u00beorne, He bryng vus to his blysse! AMEN. HONY SOYT QUI MAL PENCE.
\n———————————————————————————————— <\/p>\n
SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT
\ntranslated by JESSIE L. WESTON<\/p>\n
Preface to First Edition<\/p>\n
The poem of which the following pages offer a prose rendering is contained in a MS., believed to be unique, of the Cottonian Collection, Nero A.X., preserved in the British Museum. The MS. is of the end of the fourteenth century, but it is possible that the composition of the poem is somewhat earlier; the subject-matter is certainly of very old date. There has been a considerable divergence of opinion among scholars on the question of authorship, but the view now generally accepted is that it is the work of the same hand as Pearl, another poem of considerable merit contained in the same MS.
\n Our poem, or, to speak more correctly, metrical romance, contains over 2500 lines, and is composed in staves of varying length, ending in five short rhyming lines, technically known as a bob and a wheel,–the lines forming the body of the stave being not rhyming, but alliterative. The dialect in which it is written has been decided to be West Midland, probably Lancashire, and is by no means easy to understand. Indeed, it is the real difficulty and obscurity of the language, which, in spite of careful and scholarly editing, will always place the poem in its original form outside the range of any but professed students of medi\u00c3\u00a6val literature, which has encouraged me to make an attempt to render it more accessible to the general public, by giving it a form that shall be easily intelligible, and at the same time preserve as closely as possible the style of the author.
\n For that style, in spite of a certain roughness, unavoidable at a period in which the language was still in a partially developed and amorphous stage, is really charming. The author has a keen eye for effect; a talent for description, detailed without becoming wearisome; a genuine love of Nature and sympathy with her varying moods; and a real refinement and elevation of feeling which enable him to deal with a risqu\u00c3\u00a9: situation with an absence of coarseness, not, unfortunately, to be always met with in a medi\u00c3\u00a6val writer. Standards of taste vary with the age, but even judged by that of our own day the author of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight comes not all too badly out of the ordeal!
\n The story with which the poem deals, too, has claims upon our interest. I have shown elsewhere 1 that the beheading challenge is an incident of very early occurrence in heroic legend, and that the particular form given to it in the English poem is especially interesting, corresponding as it does to the variations of the story as preserved in the oldest known version, that of the old Irish Fled Bricrend.
\n But in no other version is the incident coupled with that of a temptation and testing of the hero’s honour and chastity, such as meets us here. At first sight one is inclined to assign the episode of the lady of the castle to the class of stories of which the oldest version is preserved in Biblical record–the story of Joseph and Potiphar’s wife; a motif not unseldom employed by medi\u00c3\u00a6val writers, and which notably occurs in what we may call the Launfal group of stories. But there are certain points which may make us hesitate as to whether in its first conception the tale was really one of this class.
\n It must be noted that here the lady is acting throughout with the knowledge and consent of the husband, an important point of difference. In the second place, it is very doubtful whether her entire attitude was not a ruse. From the Green Knight’s words to Gawain when he finally reveals himself, “I wot we shall soon make peace with my wife, who was thy bitter enemy,” her conduct hardly seems to have been prompted by real passion.
\n
\n In my Studies on the Legend of Sir Gawain, already referred to, I have suggested that the character of the lady here is, perhaps, a reminiscence of that of the Queen of the Magic Castle or Isle, daughter or niece of an enchanter, who at an early stage of Gawain’s story was undoubtedly his love. I think it not impossible that she was an integral part of the tale as first told, and her r\u00c3\u00b4le here was determined by that which she originally played. In most versions of the story she has dropped out altogether. It is, of course, possible that, there being but a confused reminiscence of the original tale, her share may have been modified by the influence of the Launfal group; but I should prefer to explain the episode on the whole as a somewhat distorted survival of an original feature.
\n But in any case we may be thankful for this, that the author of the most important English metrical romance dealing with Arthurian legend faithfully adheres to the original conception of Gawain’s character, as drawn before the monkish lovers of edification laid their ruthless hands on his legend, and turned the model of knightly virtues and courtesy into a mere vulgar libertine.
\n Brave, chivalrous, loyally faithful to his plighted word, scrupulously heedful of his own and others’ honour, Gawain stands before us in this poem. We take up Malory or Tennyson, and in spite of their charm of style, in spite of the halo of religious mysticism in which they have striven to enwrap their characters, we lay them down with a feeling of dissatisfaction. How did the Gawain of their imagination, this empty-headed, empty-hearted worldling, cruel murderer, and treacherous friend, ever come to be the typical English hero? For such Gawain certainly was, even more than Arthur himself. Then we turn back to these faded pages, and read the quaintly earnest words in which the old writer reveals the hidden meaning of that mystic symbol, the pentangle, and vindicates Gawain’s title to claim it as his badge–and we smile, perhaps, but we cease to wonder at the widespread popularity of King Arthur’s famous nephew, or at the immense body of romance that claims him as its hero.
\n Scholars know all this, of course; they can read the poem for themselves in its original rough and intricate phraseology; perhaps they will be shocked at an attempt to handle it in simpler form. But this little book is not for them, and if to those to whom the tale would otherwise be a sealed treasure these pages bring some new knowledge of the way in which our forefathers looked on the characters of the Arthurian legend, the tales they told of them (unconsciously betraying the while how they themselves lived and thought and spoke)–if by that means they gain a keener appreciation of our national heroes, a wider knowledge of our national literature,–then the spirit of the long-dead poet will doubtless not be the slowest to pardon my handling of what was his masterpiece, as it is, in M. Gaston Paris’ words, “The jewel of English medi\u00c3\u00a6val literature.”
\nBOURNEMOUTH, June 1898<\/p>\n
Preface to Second Edition<\/p>\n
In preparing this Second Edition I have adopted certain suggestions of the late Professor K\u00c3\u00b6lbing, contained in a review published by him in Englische Studien xxvi. In one or two instances, however, I have not felt free to follow his reading–e.g., on page 67, in \u00c3\u00berynne sy\u00c3\u00bee must certainly mean “for the third time,” not “thrice.” The lady has already kissed Gawain twice during the interview; Professor K\u00c3\u00b6lbing’s suggestion would make him receive five kisses, instead of three, the correct number. Nor do I think the story would gain anything by reproducing the details of the dissection of animals on page 46. This little series is not intended for scholars, who can study the original works for themselves, but for the general public, and I have therefore avoided any digression from the main thread of the story. In the main, however, I have gladly availed myself of the late Professor’s learned criticisms.
\nBOURNEMOUTH, May 1900.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Sir Gawain and the Green Knight<\/p>\n
After the siege and the assault of Troy, when that burg was destroyed and burnt to ashes, and the traitor tried for his treason, the noble \u00c3\u2020neas and his kin sailed forth to become princes and patrons of well-nigh all the Western Isles. Thus Romulus built Rome (and gave to the city his own name, which it bears even to this day); and Ticius turned him to Tuscany; and Langobard raised him up dwellings in Lombardy; and Felix Brutus sailed far over the French flood, and founded the kingdom of Britain, wherein have been war and waste and wonder, and bliss and bale, ofttimes since.
\n And in that kingdom of Britain have been wrought more gallant deeds than in any other; but of all British kings Arthur was the most valiant, as I have heard tell, therefore will I set forth a wondrous adventure that fell out in his time. And if ye will listen to me, but for a little while, I will tell it even as it stands in story stiff and strong, fixed in the letter, as it hath long been known in the land.<\/p>\n
*****<\/p>\n
King Arthur lay at Camelot upon a Christmas-tide, with many a gallant lord and lovely lady, and all the noble brotherhood of the Round Table. There they held rich revels with gay talk and jest; one while they would ride forth to joust and tourney, and again back to the court to make carols; 2 for there was the feast holden fifteen days with all the mirth that men could devise, song and glee, glorious to hear, in the daytime, and dancing at night. Halls and chambers were crowded with noble guests, the bravest of knights and the loveliest of ladies, and Arthur himself was the comeliest king that ever held a court. For all this fair folk were in their youth, the fairest and most fortunate under heaven, and the king himself of such fame that it were hard now to name so valiant a hero.
\n Now the New Year had but newly come in, and on that day a double portion was served on the high table to all the noble guests, and thither came the king with all his knights, when the service in the chapel had been sung to an end. And they greeted each other for the New Year, and gave rich gifts, the one to the other (and they that received them were not wroth, that may ye well believe!), and the maidens laughed and made mirth till it was time to get them to meat. Then they washed and sat them down to the feast in fitting rank and order, and Guinevere the queen, gaily clad, sat on the high da\u00c3\u00afs. Silken was her seat, with a fair canopy over her head, of rich tapestries of Tars, embroidered, and studded with costly gems; fair she was to look upon, with her shining grey eyes, a fairer woman might no man boast himself of having seen.
\n But Arthur would not eat till all were served, so full of joy and gladness was he, even as a child; he liked not either to lie long, or to sit long at meat, so worked upon him his young blood and his wild brain. And another custom he had also, that came of his nobility, that he would never eat upon an high day till he had been advised of some knightly deed, or some strange and marvellous tale, of his ancestors, or of arms, or of other ventures. Or till some stranger knight should seek of him leave to joust with one of the Round Table, that they might set their lives in jeopardy, one against another, as fortune might favour them. Such was the king’s custom when he sat in hall at each high feast with his noble knights, therefore on that New Year tide, he abode, fair of face, on the throne, and made much mirth withal.
\n Thus the king sat before the high tables, and spake of many things; and there good Sir Gawain was seated by Guinevere the queen, and on her other side sat Agravain, \u00c3\u00a0 la dure main; 3 both were the king’s sister’s sons and full gallant knights. And at the end of the table was Bishop Bawdewyn, and Ywain, King Urien’s son, sat at the other side alone. These were worthily served on the da\u00c3\u00afs, and at the lower tables sat many valiant knights. Then they bare the first course with the blast of trumpets and waving of banners, with the sound of drums and pipes, of song and lute, that many a heart was uplifted at the melody. Many were the dainties, and rare the meats, so great was the plenty they might scarce find room on the board to set on the dishes. Each helped himself as he liked best, and to each two were twelve dishes, with great plenty of beer and wine.
\n Now I will say no more of the service, but that ye may know there was no lack, for there drew near a venture that the folk might well have left their labour to gaze upon. As the sound of the music ceased, and the first course had been fitly served, there came in at the hall door one terrible to behold, of stature greater than any on earth; from neck to loin so strong and thickly made, and with limbs so long and so great that he seemed even as a giant. And yet he was but a man, only the mightiest that might mount a steed; broad of chest and shoulders and slender of waist, and all his features of like fashion; but men marvelled much at his colour, for he rode even as a knight, yet was green all over.
\n For he was clad all in green, with a straight coat, and a mantle above; all decked and lined with fur was the cloth and the hood that was thrown back from his locks and lay on his shoulders. Hose had he of the same green, and spurs of bright gold with silken fastenings richly worked; and all his vesture was verily green. Around his waist and his saddle were bands with fair stones set upon silken work, ’twere too long to tell of all the trifles that were embroidered thereon–birds and insects in gay gauds of green and gold. All the trappings of his steed were of metal of like enamel, even the stirrups that he stood in stained of the same, and stirrups and saddle-bow alike gleamed and shone with green stones. Even the steed on which he rode was of the same hue, a green horse, great and strong, and hard to hold, with broidered bridle, meet for the rider.<\/p>\n
\n The knight was thus gaily dressed in green, his hair falling around his shoulders; on his breast hung a beard, as thick and green as a bush, and the beard and the hair of his head were clipped all round above his elbows. The lower part of his sleeves were fastened with clasps in the same wise as a king’s mantle. The horse’s mane was crisp and plaited with many a knot folded in with gold thread about the fair green, here a twist of the hair, here another of gold. The tail was twined in like manner, and both were bound about with a band of bright green set with many a precious stone; then they were tied aloft in a cunning knot, whereon rang many bells of burnished gold. Such a steed might no other ride, nor had such ever been looked upon in that hall ere that time; and all who saw that knight spake and said that a man might scarce abide his stroke.
\n The knight bore no helm nor hauberk, neither gorget nor breast-plate, neither shaft nor buckler to smite nor to shield, but in one hand he had a holly-bough, that is greenest when the groves are bare, and in his other an axe, huge and uncomely, a cruel weapon in fashion, if one would picture it. The head was an ell-yard long, the metal all of green steel and gold, the blade burnished bright, with a broad edge, as well shapen to shear as a sharp razor. The steel was set into a strong staff, all bound round with iron, even to the end, and engraved with green in cunning work. A lace was twined about it, that looped at the head, and all adown the handle it was clasped with tassels on buttons of bright green richly broidered.
\n The knight rideth through the entrance of the hall, driving straight to the high da\u00c3\u00afs, and greeted no man, but looked ever upwards; and the first words he spake were, “Where is the ruler of this folk? I would gladly look upon that hero, and have speech with him.” He cast his eyes on the knights, and mustered them up and down, striving ever to see who of them was of most renown.
\n Then was there great gazing to behold that chief, for each man marvelled what it might mean that a knight and his steed should have even such a hue as the green grass; and that seemed even greener than green enamel on bright gold. All looked on him as he stood, and drew near unto him wondering greatly what he might be; for many marvels had they seen, but none such as this, and phantasm and fa\u00c3\u00abrie did the folk deem it. Therefore were the gallant knights slow to answer, and gazed astounded, and sat stone still in a deep silence through that goodly hall, as if a slumber were fallen upon them. I deem it was not all for doubt, but some for courtesy that they might give ear unto his errand.
\n Then Arthur beheld this adventurer before his high da\u00c3\u00afs, and knightly he greeted him, for fearful was he never. “Sir,” he said, “thou art welcome to this place–lord of this hall am I, and men call me Arthur. Light thee down, and tarry awhile, and what thy will is, that shall we learn after.”
\n “Nay,” quoth the stranger, “so help me He that sitteth on high, ’twas not mine errand to tarry any while in this dwelling; but the praise of this thy folk and thy city is lifted up on high, and thy warriors are holden for the best and the most valiant of those who ride mail-clad to the fight. The wisest and the worthiest of this world are they, and well proven in all knightly sports. And here, as I have heard tell, is fairest courtesy, therefore have I come hither as at this time. Ye may be sure by the branch that I bear here that I come in peace, seeking no strife. For had I willed to journey in warlike guise I have at home both hauberk and helm, shield and shining spear, and other weapons to mine hand, but since I seek no war my raiment is that of peace. But if thou be as bold as all men tell thou wilt freely grant me the boon I ask.”
\n And Arthur answered, “Sir Knight, if thou cravest battle here thou shalt not fail for lack of a foe.”
\n And the knight answered, “Nay, I ask no fight, in faith here on the benches are but beardless children, were I clad in armour on my steed there is no man here might match me. Therefore I ask in this court but a Christmas jest, for that it is Yule-tide, and New Year, and there are here many fain for sport. If any one in this hall holds himself so hardy, 4 so bold both of blood and brain, as to dare strike me one stroke for another, I will give him as a gift this axe, which is heavy enough, in sooth, to handle as he may list, and I will abide the first blow, unarmed as I sit. If any knight be so bold as to prove my words let him come swiftly to me here, and take this weapon, I quit claim to it, he may keep it as his own, and I will abide his stroke, firm on the floor. Then shalt thou give me the right to deal him another, the respite of a year and a day shall he have. Now haste, and let see whether any here dare say aught.”
\n Now if the knights had been astounded at the first, yet stiller were they all, high and low, when they had heard his words. The knight on his steed straightened himself in the saddle, and rolled his eyes fiercely round the hall, red they gleamed under his green and bushy brows. He frowned and twisted his beard, waiting to see who should rise, and when none answered he cried aloud in mockery, “What, is this Arthur’s hall, and these the knights whose renown hath run through many realms? Where are now your pride and your conquests, your wrath, and anger, and mighty words? Now are the praise and the renown of the Round Table overthrown by one man’s speech, since all keep silence for dread ere ever they have seen a blow!”
\n
\n With that he laughed so loudly that the blood rushed to the king’s fair face for very shame; he waxed wroth, as did all his knights, and sprang to his feet, and drew near to the stranger and said, “Now by heaven foolish is thy asking, and thy folly shall find its fitting answer. I know no man aghast at thy great words. Give me here thine axe and I shall grant thee the boon thou hast asked.” Lightly he sprang to him and caught at his hand, and the knight, fierce of aspect, lighted down from his charger.
\n Then Arthur took the axe and gripped the haft, and swung it round, ready to strike. And the knight stood before him, taller by the head than any in the hall; he stood, and stroked his beard, and drew down his coat, no more dismayed for the king’s threats than if one had brought him a drink of wine.
\n Then Gawain, who sat by the queen, leaned forward to the king and spake, “I beseech ye, my lord, let this venture be mine. Would ye but bid me rise from this seat, and stand by your side, so that my liege lady thought it not ill, then would I come to your counsel before this goodly court. For I think it not seemly when such challenges be made in your hall that ye yourself should undertake it, while there are many bold knights who sit beside ye, none are there, methinks, of readier will under heaven, or more valiant in open field. I am the weakest, I wot, and the feeblest of wit, and it will be the less loss of my life if ye seek sooth. For save that ye are mine uncle naught is there in me to praise, no virtue is there in my body save your blood, and since this challenge is such folly that it beseems ye not to take it, and I have asked it from ye first, let it fall to me, and if I bear myself ungallantly then let all this court blame me.”
\n Then they all spake with one voice that the king should leave this venture and grant it to Gawain.
\n Then Arthur commanded the knight to rise, and he rose up quickly and knelt down before the king, and caught hold of the weapon; and the king loosed his hold of it, and lifted up his hand, and gave him his blessing, and bade him be strong both of heart and hand. “Keep thee well, nephew,” quoth Arthur, “that thou give him but the one blow, and if thou redest him rightly I trow thou shalt well abide the stroke he may give thee after.”
\n Gawain stepped to the stranger, axe in hand, and he, never fearing, awaited his coming. Then the Green Knight spake to Sir Gawain, “Make we our covenant ere we go further. First, I ask thee, knight, what is thy name? Tell me truly, that I may know thee.”
\n “In faith,” quoth the good knight, “Gawain am I, who give thee this buffet, let what may come of it; and at this time twelvemonth will I take another at thine hand with whatsoever weapon thou wilt, and none other.”
\n Then the other answered again, “Sir Gawain, so may I thrive as I am fain to take this buffet at thine hand,” and he quoth further, “Sir Gawain, it liketh me well that I shall take at thy fist that which I have asked here, and thou hast readily and truly rehearsed all the covenant that I asked of the king, save that thou shalt swear me, by thy troth, to seek me thyself wherever thou hopest that I may be found, and win thee such reward as thou dealest me to-day, before this folk.”
\n “Where shall I seek thee?” quoth Gawain. “Where is thy place? By Him that made me, I wot never where thou dwellest, nor know I thee, knight, thy court, nor thy name. But teach me truly all that pertaineth thereto, and tell me thy name, and I shall use all my wit to win my way thither, and that I swear thee for sooth, and by my sure troth.”
\n “That is enough in the New Year, it needs no more,” quoth the Green Knight to the gallant Gawain, “if I tell thee truly when I have taken the blow, and thou hast smitten me; then will I teach thee of my house and home, and mine own name, then mayest thou ask thy road and keep covenant. And if I waste no words then farest thou the better, for thou canst dwell in thy land, and seek no further. But take now thy toll, and let see how thy strikest.”
\n “Gladly will I,” quoth Gawain, handling his axe.
\n Then the Green Knight swiftly made him ready, he bowed down his head, and laid his long locks on the crown that his bare neck might be seen. Gawain gripped his axe and raised it on high, the left foot he set forward on the floor, and let the blow fall lightly on the bare neck. The sharp edge of the blade sundered the bones, smote through the neck, and clave it in two, so that the edge of the steel bit on the ground, and the fair head fell to the earth that many struck it with their feet as it rolled forth. The blood spurted forth, and glistened on the green raiment, but the knight neither faltered nor fell; he started forward with out-stretched hand, and caught the head, and lifted it up; then he turned to his steed, and took hold of the bride, set his foot in the stirrup, and mounted. His head he held by the hair, in his hand. Then he seated himself in his saddle as if naught ailed him, and he were not headless. He turned his steed about, the grim corpse bleeding freely the while, and they who looked upon him doubted them much for the covenant.
\n For he held up the head in his hand, and turned the face towards them that sat on the high da\u00c3\u00afs, and it lifted up the eyelids and looked upon them and spake as ye shall hear. “Look, Gawain, that thou art ready to go as thou hast promised, and seek leally till thou find me, even as thou hast sworn in this hall in the hearing of these knights. Come thou, I charge thee, to the Green Chapel, such a stroke as thou hast dealt thou hast deserved, and it shall be promptly paid thee on New Year’s morn. Many men know me as the knight of the Green Chapel, and if thou askest, thou shalt not fail to find me. Therefore it behoves thee to come, or to yield thee as recreant.”
\n With that he turned his bridle, and galloped out at the hall door, his head in his hands, so that the sparks flew from beneath his horse’s hoofs. Whither he went none knew, no more than they wist whence he had come; and the king and Gawain they gazed and laughed, for in sooth this had proved a greater marvel than any they had known aforetime.<\/p>\n
Though Arthur the king was astonished at his heart, yet he let no sign of it be seen, but spake in courteous wise to the fair queen: “Dear lady, be not dismayed, such craft is well suited to Christmas-tide when we seek jesting, laughter and song, and fair carols of knights and ladies. But now I may well get me to meat, for I have seen a marvel I may not forget.” Then he looked on Sir Gawain, and said gaily, “Now, fair nephew, hang up thine axe, since it has hewn enough,” and they hung it on the dossal above the da\u00c3\u00afs, where all men might look on it for a marvel, and by its true token tell of the wonder. Then the twain sat them down together, the king and the good knight, and men served them with a double portion, as was the share of the noblest, with all manner of meat and of minstrelsy. And they spent that day in gladness, but Sir Gawain must well bethink him of the heavy venture to which he had set his hand.<\/p>\n
*****
\n
\n This beginning of adventures had Arthur at the New Year; for he yearned to hear gallant tales, though his words were few when he sat at the feast. But now had they stern work on hand. Gawain was glad to begin the jest in the hall, but ye need have no marvel if the end be heavy. For though a man be merry in mind when he has well drunk, yet a year runs full swiftly, and the beginning but rarely matches the end.
\n For Yule was now over-past5, and the year after, each season in its turn following the other. For after Christmas comes crabbed Lent, that will have fish for flesh and simpler cheer. But then the weather of the world chides with winter; the cold withdraws itself, the clouds uplift, and the rain falls in warm showers on the fair plains. Then the flowers come forth, meadows and grove are clad in green, the birds make ready to build, and sing sweetly for solace of the soft summer that follows thereafter. The blossoms bud and blow in the hedgerows rich and rank, and noble notes enough are heard in the fair woods.
\n After the season of summer, with the soft winds, when zephyr breathes lightly on seeds and herbs, joyous indeed is the growth that waxes thereout when the dew drips from the leaves beneath the blissful glance of the bright sun. But then comes harvest and hardens the grain, warning it to wax ripe ere the winter. The drought drives the dust on high, flying over the face of the land; the angry wind of the welkin wrestles with the sun; the leaves fall from the trees and light upon the ground, and all brown are the groves that but now were green, and ripe is the fruit that once was flower. So the year passes into many yesterdays, and winter comes again, as it needs no sage to tell us.
\n When the Michaelmas moon was come in with warnings of winter, Sir Gawain bethought him full oft of his perilous journey. Yet till All Hallows Day he lingered with Arthur, and on that day they made a great feast for the hero’s sake, with much revel and richness of the Round Table. Courteous knights and comely ladies, all were in sorrow for the love of that knight, and though they spake no word of it, many were joyless for his sake.
\n And after meat, sadly Sir Gawain turned to his uncle, and spake of his journey, and said, “Liege lord of my life, leave from you I crave. Ye know well how the matter stands without more words, to-morrow am I bound to set forth in search of the Green Knight.”
\n Then came together all the noblest knights, Ywain and Erec, and many another. Sir Dodinel le Sauvage, the Duke of Clarence, Launcelot and Lionel, and Lucan the Good, Sir Bors and Sir Bedivere, valiant knights both, and many another hero, with Sir Mador de la Porte, and they all drew near, heavy at heart, to take counsel with Sir Gawain. Much sorrow and weeping was there in the hall to think that so worthy a knight as Gawain should wend his way to seek a deadly blow, and should no more wield his sword in fight. But the knight made ever good cheer, and said, “Nay, wherefore should I shrink? What may a man do but prove his fate?”
\n He dwelt there all that day, and on the morn he arose and asked betimes for his armour; and they brought it unto him on this wise: first, a rich carpet was stretched on the floor6 (and brightly did the gold gear glitter upon it), then the knight stepped on to it, and handled the steel; clad he was in a doublet of silk, with a close hood, lined fairly throughout. Then they set the steel shoes upon his feet, and wrapped his legs with greaves, with polished knee-caps, fastened with knots of gold. Then they cased his thighs in cuisses closed with thongs, and brought him the byrny of bright steel rings sewn upon a fair stuff. Well burnished braces they set on each arm with good elbow-pieces, and gloves of mail, and all the goodly gear that should shield him in his need. And they cast over all a rich surcoat, and set the golden spurs on his heels, and girt him with a trusty sword fastened with a silken bawdrick. When he was thus clad his harness was costly, for the least loop or latchet gleamed with gold. So armed as he was he hearkened Mass and made his offering at the high altar. Then he came to the king, and the knights of his court, and courteously took leave of lords and ladies, and they kissed him, and commended him to Christ.
\n With that was Gringalet ready, girt with a saddle that gleamed gaily with many golden fringes, enriched and decked anew for the venture. The bridle was all barred about with bright gold buttons, and all the covertures and trappings of the steed, the crupper and the rich skirts, accorded with the saddle; spread fair with the rich red gold that glittered and gleamed in the rays of the sun.
\n Then the knight called for his helmet, which was well lined throughout, and set it high on his head, and hasped it behind. He wore a light kerchief over the vintail, that was broidered and studded with fair gems on a broad silken ribbon, with birds of gay colour, and many a turtle and true-lover’s knot interlaced thickly, even as many a maiden had wrought diligently for seven winter long. But the circlet which crowned his helmet was yet more precious, being adorned with a device in diamonds. Then they brought him his shield, which was of bright red, with the pentangle painted thereon in gleaming gold.7 And why that noble prince bare the pentangle I am minded to tell you, though my tale tarry thereby. It is a sign that Solomon set ere-while, as betokening truth; for it is a figure with five points and each line overlaps the other, and nowhere hath it beginning or end, so that in English it is called “the endless knot.” And therefore was it well suiting to this knight and to his arms, since Gawain was faithful in five and five-fold, for pure was he as gold, void of all villainy and endowed with all virtues. Therefore he bare the pentangle on shield and surcoat as truest of heroes and gentlest of knights.<\/p>\n
\n For first he was faultless in his five senses; and his five fingers never failed him; and all his trust upon earth was in the five wounds that Christ bare on the cross, as the Creed tells. And wherever this knight found himself in stress of battle he deemed well that he drew his strength from the five joys which the Queen of Heaven had of her Child. And for this cause did he bear an image of Our Lady on the one half of his shield, that whenever he looked upon it he might not lack for aid. And the fifth five that the hero used were frankness and fellowship above all, purity and courtesy that never failed him, and compassion that surpasses all; and in these five virtues was that hero wrapped and clothed. And all these, five-fold, were linked one in the other, so that they had no end, and were fixed on five points that never failed, neither at any side were they joined or sundered, nor could ye find beginning or end. And therefore on his shield was the knot shapen, red-gold upon red, which is the pure pentangle. Now was Sir Gawain ready, and he took his lance in hand, and bade them all Farewell, he deemed it had been for ever.
\n Then he smote the steed with his spurs, and sprang on his way, so that sparks flew from the stones after him. All that saw him were grieved at heart, and said one to the other, “By Christ, ’tis great pity that one of such noble life should be lost! I’faith, ’twere not easy to find his equal upon earth. The king had done better to have wrought more warily. Yonder knight should have been made a duke; a gallant leader of men is he, and such a fate had beseemed him better than to be hewn in pieces at the will of an elfish man, for mere pride. Who ever knew a king to take such counsel as to risk his knights on a Christmas jest?” Many were the tears that flowed from their eyes when that goodly knight rode from the hall. He made no delaying, but went his way swiftly, and rode many a wild road, as I heard say in the book.
\n So rode Sir Gawain through the realm of Logres, on an errand that he held for no jest. Often he lay companionless at night, and must lack the fare that he liked. No comrade had he save his steed, and none save God with whom to take counsel. At length he drew nigh to North Wales, and left the isles of Anglesey on his left hand, crossing over the fords by the foreland over at Holyhead, till he came into the wilderness of Wirral8, where but few dwell who love God and man of true heart. And ever he asked, as he fared, of all whom he met, if they had heard any tidings of a Green Knight in the country thereabout, or of a Green Chapel? And all answered him, Nay, never in their lives had they seen any man of such a hue. And the knight wended his way by many a strange road and many a rugged path, and the fashion of his countenance changed full often ere he saw the Green Chapel.
\n Many a cliff did he climb in that unknown land, where afar from his friends he rode as a stranger. Never did he come to a stream or a ford but he found a foe before him, and that one so marvellous, so foul and fell, that it behoved him to fight. So many wonders did that knight behold, that it were too long to tell the tenth part of them. Sometimes he fought with dragons and wolves; sometimes with wild men that dwelt in the rocks; another while with bulls, and bears, and wild boars, or with giants of the high moorland that drew near to him. Had he not been a doughty knight, enduring, and of well-proved valour, and a servant of God, doubtless he had been slain, for he was oft in danger of death. Yet he cared not so much for the strife, what he deemed worse was when the cold clear water was shed from the clouds, and froze ere it fell on the fallow ground. More nights than enough he slept in his harness on the bare rocks, near slain with the sleet, while the stream leapt bubbling from the crest of the hills, and hung in hard icicles over his head.
\n Thus in peril and pain, and many a hardship, the knight rode alone till Christmas Eve, and in that tide he made his prayer to the Blessed Virgin that she would guide his steps and lead him to some dwelling. On that morning he rode by a hill, and came into a thick forest, wild and drear; on each side were high hills, and thick woods below them of great hoar oaks, a hundred together, of hazel and hawthorn with their trailing boughs intertwined, and rough ragged moss spreading everywhere. On the bare twigs the birds chirped piteously, for pain of the cold. The knight upon Gringalet rode lonely beneath them, through marsh and mire, much troubled at heart lest he should fail to see the service of the Lord, who on that self-same night was born of a maiden for the cure of our grief; and therefore he said, sighing, “I beseech Thee, Lord, and Mary Thy gentle Mother, for some shelter where I may hear Mass, and Thy mattins at morn. This I ask meekly, and thereto I pray my Paternoster, Ave, and Credo.” Thus he rode praying, and lamenting his misdeeds, and he crossed himself, and said, “May the Cross of Christ speed me.”<\/p>\n
\n Now that knight had crossed himself but thrice ere he was aware in the wood of a dwelling within a moat, above a lawn, on a mound surrounded by many mighty trees that stood round the moat. ‘Twas the fairest castle that ever a knight owned9; built in a meadow with a park all about it, and a spiked palisade, closely driven, that enclosed the trees for more than two miles. The knight was ware of the hold from the side, as it shone through the oaks. Then he lifted off his helmet, and thanked Christ and S. Julian that they had courteously granted his prayer, and hearkened to his cry. “Now,” quoth the knight, “I beseech ye, grant me fair hostel.” Then he pricked Gringalet with his golden spurs, and rode gaily towards the great gate, and came swiftly to the bridge end.
\n The bridge was drawn up and the gates close shut; the walls were strong and thick, so that they might fear no tempest. The knight on his charger abode on the bank of the deep double ditch that surrounded the castle. The walls were set deep in the water, and rose aloft to a wondrous height; they were of hard hewn stone up to the corbels, which were adorned beneath the battlements with fair carvings, and turrets set in between with many a loophole; a better barbican Sir Gawain had never looked upon. And within he beheld the high hall, with its tower and many windows with carven cornices, and chalk-white chimneys on the turreted roofs that shone fair in the sun. And everywhere, thickly scattered on the castle battlements, were pinnacles, so many that it seemed as if it were all wrought out of paper, so white was it.
\n The knight on his steed deemed it fair enough, if he might come to be sheltered within it to lodge there while that the Holy-day lasted. He called aloud, and soon there came a porter of kindly countenance, who stood on the wall and greeted this knight and asked his errand.
\n “Good sir,” quoth Gawain, “wilt thou go mine errand to the high lord of the castle, and crave for me lodging?”
\n “Yea, by S. Peter,” quoth the porter. “In sooth I trow that ye be welcome to dwell here so long as it may like ye.”
\n Then he went, and came again swiftly, and many folk with him to receive the knight. They let down the great drawbridge, and came forth and knelt on their knees on the cold earth to give him worthy welcome. They held wide open the great gates, and courteously he bid them rise, and rode over the bridge. Then men came to him and held his stirrup while he dismounted, and took and stabled his steed. There came down knights and squires to bring the guest with joy to the hall. When he raised his helmet there were many to take it from his hand, fain to serve him, and they took from him sword and shield.
\n Sir Gawain gave good greeting to the noble and the mighty men who came to do him honour. Clad in his shining armour they led him to the hall, where a great fire burnt brightly on the floor; and the lord of the household came forth from his chamber to meet the hero fitly. He spake to the knight, and said: “Ye are welcome to do here as it likes ye. All that is here is your own to have at your will and disposal.”
\n “Gramercy!” quote Gawain, “may Christ requite ye.”
\n As friends that were fain each embraced the other; and Gawain looked on the knight who greeted him so kindly, and thought ’twas a bold warrior that owned that burg.
\n Of mighty stature he was, and of high age; broad and flowing was his beard, and of a bright hue. He was stalwart of limb, and strong in his stride, his face fiery red, and his speech free: in sooth he seemed one well fitted to be a leader of valiant men.
\n Then the lord led Sir Gawain to a chamber, and commanded folk to wait upon him, and at his bidding there came men enough who brought the guest to a fair bower. The bedding was noble, with curtains of pure silk wrought with gold, and wondrous coverings of fair cloth all embroidered. The curtains ran on ropes with rings of red gold, and the walls were hung with carpets of Orient, and the same spread on the floor. There with mirthful speeches they took from the guest his byrny and all his shining armour, and brought him rich robes of the choicest in its stead. They were long and flowing, and became him well, and when he was clad in them all who looked on the hero thought that surely God had never made a fairer knight: he seemed as if he might be a prince without peer in the field where men strive in battle.
\n Then before the hearth-place, whereon the fire burned, they made ready a chair for Gawain, hung about with cloth and fair cushions; and there they cast around him a mantle of brown samite, richly embroidered and furred within with costly skins of ermine, with a hood of the same, and he seated himself in that rich seat, and warmed himself at the fire, and was cheered at heart. And while he sat thus the serving men set up a table on trestles, and covered it with a fair white cloth, and set thereon salt-cellar, and napkin, and silver spoons; and the knight washed at his will, and set him down to meat.
\n The folk served him courteously with many dishes seasoned of the best, a double portion. All kinds of fish were there, some baked in bread, some broiled on the embers, some sodden, some stewed and savoured with spices, with all sorts of cunning devices to his taste. And often he called it a feast, when they spake gaily to him all together, and said, “Now take ye this penance, and it shall be for your amendment.” Much mirth thereof did Sir Gawain make.<\/p>\n
\n Then they questioned that prince courteously of whence he came; and he told them that he was of the court of Arthur, who is the rich royal King of the Round Table, and that it was Gawain himself who was within their walls, and would keep Christmas with them, as the chance had fallen out. And when the lord of the castle heard those tidings he laughed aloud for gladness, and all men in that keep were joyful that they should be in the company of him to whom belonged all fame, and valour, and courtesy, and whose honour was praised above that of all men on earth. Each said softly to his fellow, “Now shall we see courteous bearing, and the manner of speech befitting courts. What charm lieth in gentle speech shall we learn without asking, since here we have welcomed the fine father of courtesy. God has surely shewn us His grace since He sends us such a guest as Gawain! When men shall sit and sing, blithe for Christ’s birth, this knight shall bring us to the knowledge of fair manners, and it may be that hearing him we may learn the cunning speech of love.”
\n By the time the knight had risen from dinner it was near nightfall. Then chaplains took their way to the chapel, and rang loudly, even as they should, for the solemn evensong of the high feast. Thither went the lord, and the lady also, and entered with her maidens into a comely closet, and thither also went Gawain. Then the lord took him by the sleeve and led him to a seat, and called him by his name, and told him he was of all men in the world the most welcome. And Sir Gawain thanked him truly, and each kissed the other, and they sat gravely together throughout the service.
\n Then was the lady fain to look upon that knight; and she came forth from her closet with many fair maidens. The fairest of ladies was she in face, and figure, and colouring, fairer even than Guinevere, so the knight thought. She came through the chancel to greet the hero, another lady held her by the left hand, older than she, and seemingly of high estate, with many nobles about her. But unlike to look upon were those ladies, for if the younger were fair, the elder was yellow. Rich red were the cheeks of the one, rough and wrinkled those of the other; the kerchiefs of the one were broidered with many glistening pearls, her throat and neck bare, and whiter than the snow that lies on the hills; the neck of the other was swathed in a gorget, with a white wimple over her black chin. Her forehead was wrapped in silk with many folds, worked with knots, so that naught of her was seen save her black brows, her eyes, her nose and her lips, and those were bleared, and ill to look upon. A worshipful lady in sooth one might call her! In figure was she short and broad, and thickly made–far fairer to behold was she whom she led by the hand.
\n When Gawain beheld that fair lady, who looked at him graciously, with leave of the lord he went towards them, and, bowing low, he greeted the elder, but the younger and fairer he took lightly in his arms, and kissed her courteously, and greeted her in knightly wise. Then she hailed him as friend, and he quickly prayed to be counted as her servant, if she so willed. Then they took him between them, and talking, led him to the chamber, to the hearth, and bade them bring spices, and they brought them in plenty with the good wine that was wont to be drunk at such seasons. Then the lord sprang to his feet and bade them make merry, and took off his hood, and hung it on a spear, and bade him win the worship thereof who should make most mirth that Christmas-tide. “And I shall try, by my faith, to fool it with the best, by the help of my friends, ere I lose my raiment.” Thus with gay words the lord made trial to gladden Gawain with jests that night, till it was time to bid them light the tapers, and Sir Gawain took leave of them and gat him to rest.
\n In the morn when all men call to mind how Christ our Lord was born on earth to die for us, there is joy, for His sake, in all dwellings of the world; and so was there here on that day. For high feast was held, with many dainties and cunningly cooked messes. On the da\u00c3\u00afs sat gallant men, clad in their best. The ancient dame sat on the high seat, with the lord of the castle beside her. Gawain and the fair lady sat together, even in the midst of the board, when the feast was served; and so throughout all the hall each sat in his degree, and was served in order. There was meat, there was mirth, there was much joy, so that to tell thereof would take me too long, though peradventure I might strive to declare it. But Gawain and that fair lady had much joy of each other’s company through her sweet words and courteous converse. And there was music made before each prince, trumpets and drums, and merry piping; each man hearkened his minstrel, and they too hearkened theirs.
\n So they held high feast that day and the next, and the third day thereafter, and the joy on S. John’s Day was fair to hearken, for ’twas the last of the feast and the guests would depart in the grey of the morning. Therefore they awoke early, and drank wine, and danced fair carols, and at last, when it was late, each man took his leave to wend early on his way. Gawain would bid his host farewell, but the lord took him by the hand, and led him to his own chamber beside the hearth, and there he thanked him for the favour he had shown him in honouring his dwelling at that high season, and gladdening his castle with his fair countenance. “I wis, sir, that while I live I shall be held the worthier that Gawain has been my guest at God’s own feast.”
\n “Gramercy, sir,” quoth Gawain, “in good faith, all the honour is yours, may the High King give it you, and I am but at your will to work your behest, inasmuch as I am beholden to you in great and small by rights.”<\/p>\n
\n Then the lord did his best to persuade the knight to tarry with him, but Gawain answered that he might in no wise do so. Then the host asked him courteously what stern behest had driven him at the holy season from the king’s court, to fare all alone, ere yet the feast was ended?
\n “Forsooth,” quoth the knight, “ye say but the truth: ’tis a high quest and a pressing that hath brought me afield, for I am summoned myself to a certain place, and I know not whither in the world I may wend to find it; so help me Christ, I would give all the kingdom of Logres an I might find it by New Year’s morn. Therefore, sir, I make request of you that ye tell me truly if ye ever heard word of the Green Chapel, where it may be found, and the Green Knight that keeps it. For I am pledged by solemn compact sworn between us to meet that knight at the New Year if so I were on life; and of that same New Year it wants but little–I’faith, I would look on that hero more joyfully than on any other fair sight! Therefore, by your will, it behoves me to leave you, for I have but barely three days, and I would as fain fall dead as fail of mine errand.”
\n Then the lord quoth, laughing, “Now must ye needs stay, for I will show you your goal, the Green Chapel, ere your term be at an end, have ye no fear! But ye can take your ease, friend, in your bed, till the fourth day, and go forth on the first of the year and come to that place at mid-morn to do as ye will. Dwell here till New Year’s Day, and then rise and set forth, and ye shall be set in the way; ’tis not two miles hence.”
\n Then was Gawain glad, and he laughed gaily. “Now I thank you for this above all else. Now my quest is achieved I will dwell here at your will, and otherwise do as ye shall ask.”
\n Then the lord took him, and set him beside him, and bade the ladies be fetched for their greater pleasure, tho’ between themselves they had solace. The lord, for gladness, made merry jest, even as one who wist not what to do for joy; and he cried aloud to the knight, “Ye have promised to do the thing I bid ye: will ye hold to this behest, here, at once?”
\n “Yea, forsooth,” said that true knight, “while I abide in your burg I am bound by your behest.”
\n “Ye have travelled from far,” said the host, “and since then ye have waked with me, ye are not well refreshed by rest and sleep, as I know. Ye shall therefore abide in your chamber, and lie at your ease tomorrow at Mass-tide, and go to meat when ye will with my wife, who shall sit with you, and comfort you with her company till I return; and I shall rise early and go forth to the chase.” And Gawain agreed to all this courteously.
\n “Sir knight,” quoth the host, “we shall make a covenant. Whatsoever I win in the wood shall be yours, and whatever may fall to your share, that shall ye exchange for it. Let us swear, friend, to make this exchange, however our hap may be, for worse or for better.”
\n “I grant ye your will,” quoth Gawain the good; “if ye list so to do, it liketh me well.”
\n “Bring hither the wine-cup, the bargain is made,” so said the lord of that castle. They laughed each one, and drank of the wine, and made merry, these lords and ladies, as it pleased them. Then with gay talk and merry jest they arose, and stood, and spoke softly, and kissed courteously, and took leave of each other. With burning torches, and many a serving-man, was each led to his couch; yet ere they gat them to bed the old lord oft repeated their covenant, for he knew well how to make sport.<\/p>\n
*****<\/p>\n
Full early, ere daylight, the folk rose up; the guests who would depart called their grooms, and they made them ready, and saddled the steeds, tightened up the girths, and trussed up their mails. The knights, all arrayed for riding, leapt up lightly, and took their bridles, and each rode his way as pleased him best.
\n The lord of the land was not the last. Ready for the chase, with many of his men, he ate a sop hastily when he had heard Mass, and then with blast of the bugle fared forth to the field.10 He and his nobles were to horse ere daylight glimmered upon the earth.
\n Then the huntsmen coupled their hounds, unclosed the kennel door, and called them out. They blew three blasts gaily on the bugles, the hounds bayed fiercely, and they that would go a-hunting checked and chastised them. A hundred hunters there were of the best, so I have heard tell. Then the trackers gat them to the trysting-place and uncoupled the hounds, and forest rang again with their gay blasts.
\n At the first sound of the hunt the game quaked for fear, and fled, trembling, along the vale. They betook them to the heights, but the liers in wait turned them back with loud cries; the harts they let pass them, and the stags with their spreading antlers, for the lord had forbidden that they should be slain, but the hinds and the does they turned back, and drave down into the valleys. Then might ye see much shooting of arrows. As the deer fled under the boughs a broad whistling shaft smote and wounded each sorely, so that, wounded and bleeding, they fell dying on the banks. The hounds followed swiftly on their tracks, and hunters, blowing the horn, sped after them with ringing shouts as if the cliffs burst asunder. What game escaped those that shot was run down at the outer ring. Thus were they driven on the hills, and harassed at the waters, so well did the men know their work, and the greyhounds were so great and swift that they ran them down as fast as the hunters could slay them. Thus the lord passed the day in mirth and joyfulness, even to nightfall.
\n So the lord roamed the woods, and Gawain, that good night, lay ever a-bed, curtained about, under the costly coverlet, while the daylight gleamed on the walls. And as he lay half slumbering, he heard a little sound at the door, and he raised his head, and caught back a corner of the curtain, and waited to see what it might be. It was the lovely lady, the lord’s wife; she shut the door softly behind her, and turned towards the bed; and Gawain was shamed, laid him down softly and made as if he slept. And she came lightly to the bedside, within the curtain, and sat herself down beside him, to wait till he wakened. The knight lay there awhile, and marvelled within himself what her coming might betoken; and he said to himself, “‘Twere more seemly if I asked her what hath brought her hither.” Then he made feint to waken, and turned towards her, and opened his eyes as one astonished, and crossed himself; and she looked on him laughing, with her cheeks red and white, lovely to behold, and small smiling lips.
\n “Good morrow, Sir Gawain,” said that fair lady; “ye are but a careless sleeper, since one can enter thus. Now are ye taken unawares, and lest ye escape me I shall bind you in your bed; of that be ye assured!” Laughing, she spake these words.
\n “Good morrow, fair lady,” quoth Gawain blithely. “I will do your will, as it likes me well. For I yield me readily, and pray your grace, and that is best, by my faith, since I needs must do so.” Thus he jested again, laughing. “But an ye would, fair lady, grant me this grace that ye pray your prisoner to rise. I would get me from bed, and array me better, then could I talk with ye in more comfort.”
\n “Nay, forsooth, fair sir,” quoth the lady, “ye shall not rise, I will rede ye better. I shall keep ye here, since ye can do no other, and talk with my knight whom I have captured. For I know well that ye are Sir Gawain, whom all the world worships, wheresoever ye may ride. Your honour and your courtesy are praised by lords and ladies, by all who live. Now ye are here and we are alone, my lord and his men are afield; the serving men in their beds, and my maidens also, and the door shut upon us. And since in this hour I have him that all men love, I shall use my time well with speech, while it lasts. Ye are welcome to my company, for it behoves me in sooth to be your servant.”
\n “In good faith,” quoth Gawain, “I think me that I am not him of whom ye speak, for unworthy am I of such service as ye here proffer. In sooth, I were glad if I might set myself by word or service to your pleasure; a pure joy would it be to me!”
\n “In good faith, Sir Gawain,” quoth the gay lady, “the praise and the prowess that pleases all ladies I lack them not, nor hold them light; yet are there ladies enough who would liever now have the knight in their hold, as I have ye here, to dally with your courteous words, to bring them comfort and to ease their cares, than much of the treasure and the gold that are theirs. And now, through the grace of Him who upholds the heavens, I have wholly in my power that which they all desire!”
\n Thus the lady, fair to look upon, made him great cheer, and Sir Gawain, with modest words, answered her again: “Madam,” he quoth, “may Mary requite ye, for in good faith I have found in ye a noble frankness. Much courtesy have other folk shown me, but the honour they have done me is naught to the worship of yourself, who knoweth but good.”
\n “By Mary,” quoth the lady, “I think otherwise; for were I worth all the women alive, and had I the wealth of the world in my hand, and might choose me a lord to my liking, then, for all that I have seen in ye, Sir Knight, of beauty and courtesy and blithe semblance, and for all that I have hearkened and hold for true, there should be no knight on earth to be chosen before ye!”
\n “Well I wot,” quoth Sir Gawain, “that ye have chosen a better; but I am proud that ye should so prize me, and as your servant do I hold ye my sovereign, and your knight am I, and may Christ reward ye.”
\n So they talked of many matters till mid-morn was past, and ever the lady made as though she loved him, and the knight turned her speech aside. For though she were the brightest of maidens, yet had he forborne to shew her love for the danger that awaited him, and the blow that must be given without delay.
\n Then the lady prayed her leave from him, and he granted it readily. And she gave [the text reads “have”] him good-day, with laughing glance, but he must needs marvel at her words:
\n “Now He that speeds fair speech reward ye this disport; but that ye be Gawain my mind misdoubts me greatly.”
\n “Wherefore?” quoth the knight quickly, fearing lest he had lacked in some courtesy.
\n And the lady spake: “So true a knight as Gawain is holden, and one so perfect in courtesy, would never have tarried so long with a lady but he would of his courtesy have craved a kiss at parting.”
\n Then quoth Gawain, “I wot I will do even as it may please ye, and kiss at your commandment, as a true knight should who forbears to ask for fear of displeasure.”
\n At that she came near and bent down and kissed the knight, and each commended the other to Christ, and she went forth from the chamber softly.
\n Then Sir Gawain arose and called his chamberlain and chose his garments, and when he was ready he gat him forth to Mass, and then went to meat, and made merry all day till the rising of the moon, and never had a knight fairer lodging than had he with those two noble ladies, the elder and the younger.<\/p>\n
\n And even the lord of the land chased the hinds through holt and heath till eventide, and then with much blowing of bugles and baying of hounds they bore the game homeward; and by the time daylight was done all the folk had returned to that fair castle. And when the lord and Sir Gawain met together, then were they both well pleased. The lord commanded them all to assemble in the great hall, and the ladies to descend with their maidens, and there, before them all, he bade the men fetch in the spoil of the day’s hunting, and he called unto Gawain, and counted the tale of the beasts, and showed them unto him, and said, “What think ye of this game, Sir Knight? Have I deserved of ye thanks for my woodcraft?”
\n “Yea, I wis,” quoth the other, “here is the fairest spoil I have seen this seven year in the winter season.”
\n “And all this do I give ye, Gawain,” quoth the host, “for by accord of covenant ye may claim it as your own.”
\n “That is sooth,” quoth the other, “I grant you that same; and I have fairly won this within walls, and with as good will do I yield it to ye.” With that he clasped his hands round the lord’s neck and kissed him as courteously as he might. “Take ye here my spoils, no more have I won; ye should have it freely, though it were greater than this.”
\n “‘Tis good,” said the host, “gramercy thereof. Yet were I fain to know where ye won this same favour, and if it were by your own wit?”
\n “Nay,” answered Gawain, “that was not in the bond. Ask me no more: ye have taken what was yours by right, be content with that.”
\n They laughed and jested together, and sat them down to supper, where they were served with many dainties; and after supper they sat by the hearth, and wine was served out to them; and oft in their jesting they promised to observe on the morrow the same covenant that they had made before, and whatever chance might betide to exchange their spoil, be it much or little, when they met at night. Thus they renewed their bargain before the whole court, and then the night-drink was served, and each courteously took leave of the other and gat him to bed.
\n By the time the cock had crowed thrice the lord of the castle had left his bed; Mass was sung and meat fitly served. The folk were forth to the wood ere the day broke, with hound and horn they rode over the plain, and uncoupled their dogs among the thorns. Soon they struck on the scent, and the hunt cheered on the hounds who were first to seize it, urging them with shouts. The others hastened to the cry, forty at once, and there rose such a clamour from the pack that the rocks rang again. The huntsmen spurred them on with shouting and blasts of the horn; and the hounds drew together to a thicket betwixt the water and a high crag in the cliff beneath the hillside. There where the rough rock fell ruggedly they, the huntsmen, fared to the finding, and cast about round the hill and the thicket behind them. The knights wist well what beast was within, and would drive him forth with the bloodhounds. And as they beat the bushes, suddenly over the beaters there rushed forth a wondrous great and fierce boar, long since had he left the herd to roam by himself. Grunting, he cast many to the ground, and fled forth at his best speed, without more mischief. The men hallooed loudly and cried, “Hay! Hay!” and blew the horns to urge on the hounds, and rode swiftly after the boar. Many a time did he turn to bay and tare the hounds, and they yelped, and howled shrilly. Then the men made ready their arrows and shot at him, but the points were turned on his thick hide, and the barbs would not bite upon him, for the shafts shivered in pieces, and the head but leapt again wherever it hit.
\n But when the boar felt the stroke of the arrows he waxed mad with rage, and turned on the hunters and tare many, so that, affrightened, they fled before him. But the lord on a swift steed pursued him, blowing his bugle; as a gallant knight he rode through the woodland chasing the boar till the sun grew low.
\n So did the hunters this day, while Sir Gawain lay in his bed lapped in rich gear; and the lady forgat not to salute him, for early was she at his side, to cheer his mood.
\n She came to the bedside and looked on the knight, and Gawain gave her fit greeting, and she greeted him again with ready words, and sat her by his side and laughed, and with a sweet look she spoke to him:
\n “Sir, if ye be Gawain, I think it a wonder that ye be so stern and cold, and care not for the courtesies of friendship, but if one teach ye to know them ye cast the lesson out of your mind. Ye have soon forgotten what I taught ye yesterday, by all the truest tokens that I knew!”
\n “What is that?” quoth the knight. “I trow I know not. If it be sooth that ye say, then is the blame mine own.”
\n “But I taught ye of kissing, ” quoth the fair lady. “Wherever a fair countenance is shown him, it behoves a courteous knight quickly to claim a kiss.”
\n “Nay, my dear,” said Sir Gawain, “cease that speech; that durst I not do lest I were denied, for if I were forbidden I wot I were wrong did I further entreat.”
\n “I’ faith,” quoth the lady merrily, “ye may not be forbid, ye are strong enough to constrain by strength an ye will, were any so discourteous as to give ye denial.”
\n “Yea, by Heaven,” said Gawain, “ye speak well; but threats profit little in the land where I dwell, and so with a gift that is given not of good will! I am at your commandment to kiss when ye like, to take or to leave as ye list.”
\n Then the lady bent her down and kissed him courteously.
\n And as they spake together she said, “I would learn somewhat from ye, an ye would not be wroth, for young ye bare and fair, and so courteous and knightly as ye are known to be, the head of all chivalry, and versed in all wisdom of love and war–’tis ever told of true knights how they adventured their lives for their true love, and endured hardships for her favours, and avenged her with valour, and eased her sorrows, and brought joy to her bower; and ye are the fairest knight of your time, and your fame and your honour are everywhere, yet I have sat by ye here twice, and never a word have I heard of love! Ye who are so courteous and skilled in such love ought surely to teach one so young and unskilled some little craft of true love! Why are ye so unlearned who art otherwise so famous? Or is it that ye deemed me unworthy to hearken to your teaching? For shame, Sir Knight! I come hither alone and sit at your side to learn of ye some skill; teach me of your wit, while my lord is from home.” <\/p>\n
\n “In good faith,” quoth Gawain, “great is my joy and my profit that so fair a lady as ye are should deign to come hither, and trouble ye with so poor a man, and make sport with your knight with kindly countenance, it pleaseth me much. But that I, in my turn, should take it upon me to tell of love and such like matters to ye who know more by half, or a hundred fold, of such craft than I do, or ever shall in all my lifetime, by my troth ’twere folly indeed! I will work your will to the best of my might as I am bounden, and evermore will I be your servant, so help me Christ!”
\n Then often with guile she questioned that knight that she might win him to woo her, but he defended himself so fairly that none might in any wise blame him, and naught but bliss and harmless jesting was there between them. They laughed and talked together till at last she kissed him, and craved her leave of him, and went her way.
\n Then the knight arose and went forth to Mass, and afterward dinner was served and he sat and spake with the ladies all day. But the lord of the castle rode ever over the land chasing the wild boar, that fled through the thickets, slaying the best of his hounds and breaking their backs in sunder; till at last he was so weary he might run no longer, but made for a hole in a mound by a rock. He got the mound at his back and faced the hounds, whetting his white tusks and foaming at the mouth. The huntsmen stood aloof, fearing to draw nigh him; so many of them had been already wounded that they were loth to be torn with his tusks, so fierce he was and mad with rage. At length the lord himself came up, and saw the beast at bay, and the men standing aloof. Then quickly he sprang to the ground and drew out a bright blade, and waded through the stream to the boar.
\n When the beast was aware of the knight with weapon in hand, he set up his bristles and snorted loudly, and many feared for their lord lest he should be slain. Then the boar leapt upon the knight so that beast and man were one atop of the other in the water; but the boar had the worst of it, for the man had marked, even as he sprang, and set the point of his brand to the beast’s chest, and drove it up to the hilt, so that the heart was split in twain, and the boar fell snarling, and was swept down by the water to where a hundred hounds seized on him, and the men drew him to shore for the dogs to slay.
\n Then was there loud blowing of horns and baying of hounds, the huntsmen smote off the boar’s head, and hung the carcase by the four feet to a stout pole, and so went on their way homewards. The head they bore before the lord himself, who had slain the beast at the ford by force of his strong hand.
\n It seemed him o’er long ere he saw Sir Gawain in the hall, and he called, and the guest came to take that which fell to his share. And when he saw Gawain the lord laughed aloud, and bade them call the ladies and the household together, and he showed them the game, and told them the tale, how they hunted the wild boar through the woods, and of his length and breadth and height; and Sir Gawain commended his deeds and praised him for his valour, well proven, for so mighty a beast had he never seen before.
\n Then they handled the huge head, and the lord said aloud, “Now, Gawain, this game is your own by sure covenant, as ye right well know.”
\n “‘Tis sooth,” quoth the knight, “and as truly will I give ye all I have gained.” He took the host round the neck, and kissed him courteously twice. “Now are we quits,” he said, “this eventide, of all the covenants that we made since I came hither.”
\n And the lord answered, “By S. Giles, ye are the best I know; ye will be rich in a short space if ye drive such bargains!”
\n Then they set up the tables on trestles, and covered them with fair cloths, and lit waxen tapers on the walls. The knights sat and were served in the hall, and much game and glee was there round the hearth, with many songs, both at supper and after; song of Christmas, and new carols, with all the mirth one may think of. And ever that lovely lady sat by the knight, and with still stolen looks made such feint of pleasing him, that Gawain marvelled much, and was wroth with himself, but he could not for his courtesy return her fair glances, but dealt with her cunningly, however she might strive to wrest the thing.
\n When they had tarried in the hall so long as it seemed them good, they turned to the inner chamber and the wide hearthplace, and there they drank wine, and the host proffered to renew the covenant for New Year’s Eve; but the knight craved leave to depart on the morrow, for it was nigh to the term when he must fulfil his pledge. But the lord would withhold him from so doing, and prayed him to tarry, and said,
\n “As I am a true knight I swear my troth that ye shall come to the Green Chapel to achieve your task on New Year’s morn, long before prime. Therefore abide ye in your bed, and I will hunt in this wood, and hold ye to the covenant to exchange with me against all the spoil I may bring hither. For twice have I tried ye, and found ye true, and the morrow shall be the third time and the best. Make we merry now while we may, and think on joy, for misfortune may take a man whensoever it wills.”
\n Then Gawain granted his request, and they brought them drink, and they gat them with lights to bed.
\n Sir Gawain lay and slept softly, but the lord, who was keen on woodcraft, was afoot early. After Mass he and his men ate a morsel, and he asked for his steed; all the knights who should ride with him were already mounted before the hall gates.
\n ‘Twas a fair frosty morning, for the sun rose red in ruddy vapour, and the welkin was clear of clouds. The hunters scattered them by a forest side, and the rocks rang again with the blast of their horns. Some came on the scent of a fox, and a hound gave tongue; the huntsmen shouted, and the pack followed in a crowd on the trail. The fox ran before them, and when they saw him they pursued him with noise and much shouting, and he wound and turned through many a thick grove, often cowering and hearkening in a hedge. At last by a little ditch he leapt out of a spinney, stole away slily by a copse path, and so out of the wood and away from the hounds. But he went, ere he wist, to a chosen tryst, and three started forth on him at once, so he must needs double back, and betake him to the wood again.
\n Then was it joyful to hearken to the hounds; when all the pack had met together and had sight of their game they made as loud a din as if all the lofty cliffs had fallen clattering together. The huntsmen shouted and threatened, and followed close upon him so that he might scarce escape, but Reynard was wily, and he turned and doubled upon them, and led the lord and his men over the hills, now on the slopes, now in the vales, while the knight at home slept through the cold morning beneath his costly curtains.
\n But the fair lady of the castle rose betimes, and clad herself in a rich mantle that reached even to the ground, left her throat and her fair neck bare, and was bordered and lined with costly furs. On her head she wore no golden circlet, but a network of precious stones, that gleamed and shone through her tresses in clusters of twenty together. Thus she came into the chamber, closed the door after her, and set open a window, and called to him gaily, “Sir Knight, how may ye sleep? The morning is so fair.”
\n Sir Gawain was deep in slumber, and in his dream he vexed him much for the destiny that should befall him on the morrow, when he should meet the knight at the Green Chapel, and abide his blow; but when the lady spake he heard her, and came to himself, and roused from his dream and answered swiftly. The lady came laughing, and kissed him courteously, and he welcomed her fittingly with a cheerful countenance. He saw her so glorious and gaily dressed, so faultless of features and complexion, that it warmed his heart to look upon her.
\n They spake to each other smiling, and all was bliss and good cheer between them. They exchanged fair words, and much happiness was therein, yet was there a gulf between them, and she might win no more of her knight, for that gallant prince watched well his words–he would neither take her love, nor frankly refuse it. He cared for his courtesy, lest he be deemed churlish, and yet more for his honour lest he be traitor to his host. “God forbid,” quoth he to himself, “that it should so befall.” Thus with courteous words did he set aside all the special speeches that came from her lips.<\/p>\n
\n Then spake the lady to the knight, “Ye deserve blame if ye hold not that lady who sits beside ye above all else in the world, if ye have not already a love whom ye hold dearer, and like better, and have sworn such firm faith to that lady that ye care not to loose it–and that am I now fain to believe. And now I pray ye straitly that ye tell me that in truth, and hide it not.”
\n And the knight answered, “By S. John” (and he smiled as he spake) “no such love have I, nor do I think to have yet awhile.”
\n “That is the worst word I may hear,” quoth the lady, “but in sooth I have mine answer; kiss me now courteously, and I will go hence; I can but mourn as a maiden that loves much.”
\n Sighing, she stooped down and kissed him, and then she rose up and spake as she stood, “Now, dear, at our parting do me this grace: give me some gift, if it were but thy glove, that I may bethink me of my knight, and lessen my mourning.”
\n “Now, I wis,” quoth the knight, “I would that I had here the most precious thing that I possess on earth that I might leave ye as love-token, great or small, for ye have deserved forsooth more reward than I might give ye. But it is not to your honour to have at this time a glove for reward as gift from Gawain, and I am here on a strange errand, and have no man with me, nor mails with goodly things–that mislikes me much, lady, at this time; but each man must fare as he is taken, if for sorrow and ill.”
\n “Nay, knight highly honoured,” quoth that lovesome lady, “though I have naught of yours, yet shall ye have somewhat of mine.” With that she reached him a ring of red gold with a sparkling stone therein, that shone even as the sun (wit ye well, it was worth many marks); but the knight refused it, and spake readily,
\n “I will take no gift, lady, at this time. I have none to give, and none will I take.”
\n She prayed him to take it, but he refused her prayer, and sware in sooth that he would not have it.
\n The lady was sorely vexed, and said, “If ye refuse my ring as too costly, that ye will not be so highly beholden to me, I will give you my girdle 11 as a lesser gift.” With that she loosened a lace that was fastened at her side, knit upon her kirtle under her mantle. It was wrought of green silk, and gold, only braided by the fingers, and that she offered to the knight, and besought him though it were of little worth that he would take it, and he said nay, he would touch neither gold nor gear ere God give him grace to achieve the adventure for which he had come hither. “And therefore, I pray ye, displease ye not, and ask me no longer, for I may not grant it. I am dearly beholden to ye for the favour ye have shown me, and ever, in heat and cold, will I be your true servant.”
\n “Now,” said the lady, “ye refuse this silk, for it is simple in itself, and so it seems, indeed; lo, it is small to look upon and less in cost, but whoso knew the virtue that is knit therein he would, peradventure, value it more highly. For whatever knight is girded with this green lace, while he bears it knotted about him there is no man under heaven can overcome him, for he may not be slain for any magic on earth.”
\n Then Gawain bethought him, and it came into his heart that this were a jewel for the jeopardy that awaited him when he came to the Green Chapel to seek the return blow–could he so order it that he should escape unslain, ’twere a craft worth trying. Then he bare with her chiding, and let her say her say, and she pressed the girdle on him and prayed him to take it, and he granted her prayer, and she gave it him with good will, and besought him for her sake never to reveal it but to hide it loyally from her lord; and the knight agreed that never should any man know it, save they two alone. He thanked her often and heartily, and she kissed him for the third time.
\n Then she took her leave of him, and when she was gone Sir Gawain arose, and clad him in rich attire, and took the girdle, and knotted it round him, and hid it beneath his robes. Then he took his way to the chapel, and sought out a priest privily and prayed him to teach him better how his soul might be saved when he should go hence; and there he shrived him, and showed his misdeeds, both great and small, and besought mercy and craved absolution; and the priest assoiled him, and set him as clean as if Doomsday had been on the morrow. And afterwards Sir Gawain made him merry with the ladies, with carols, and all kinds of joy, as never he did but that one day, even to nightfall; and all the men marvelled at him, and said that never since he came thither had he been so merry.
\n Meanwhile the lord of the castle was abroad chasing the fox; awhile he lost him, and as he rode through a spinny he heard the hounds near at hand, and Reynard came creeping through a thick grove, with all the pack at his heels. Then the lord drew out his shining brand, and cast it at the beast, and the fox swerved aside for the sharp edge, and would have doubled back, but a hound was on him ere he might turn, and right before the horse’s feet they all fell on him, and worried him fiercely, snarling the while.
\n Then the lord leapt from his saddle, and caught the fox from the jaws, and held it aloft over his head, and hallooed loudly, and many brave hounds bayed as they beheld it; and the hunters hied them thither, blowing their horns; all that bare bugles blew them at once, and all the others shouted. ‘Twas the merriest meeting that ever men heard, the clamour that was raised at the death of the fox. They rewarded the hounds, stroking them and rubbing their heads, and took Reynard and stripped him of his coat; then blowing their horns, they turned them homewards, for it was nigh nightfall.
\n The lord was gladsome at his return, and found a bright fire on the hearth, and the knight beside it, the good Sir Gawain, who was in joyous mood for the pleasure he had had with the ladies. He wore a robe of blue, that reached even to the ground, and a surcoat richly furred, that became him well. A hood like to the surcoat fell on his shoulders, and all alike were done about with fur. He met the host in the midst of the floor, and jesting, he greeted him, and said, “Now shall I be first to fulfil our covenant which we made together when there was no lack of wine.” Then he embraced the knight, and kissed him thrice, as solemnly as he might.
\n “Of a sooth,” quoth the other, “ye have good luck in the matter of this covenant, if ye made a good exchange!”
\n “Yea, it matters naught of the exchange,” quoth Gawain, “since what I owe is swiftly paid.”
\n “Marry,” said the other, “mine is behind, for I have hunted all this day, and naught have I got but this foul fox-skin, and that is but poor payment for three such kisses as ye have here given me.”
\n “Enough,” quoth Sir Gawain, “I thank ye, by the Rood.”
\n Then the lord told them of his hunting, and how the fox had been slain.
\n With mirth and minstrelsy, and dainties at their will, they made them as merry as a folk well might till ’twas time for them to sever, for at last they must needs betake them to their beds. Then the knight took his leave of the lord, and thanked him fairly.
\n “For the fair sojourn that I have had here at this high feast may the High King give ye honour. I give ye myself, as one of your servants, if ye so like; for I must needs, as you know, go hence with the morn, and ye will give me, as ye promised, a guide to show me the way to the Green Chapel, an God will suffer me on New Year’s Day to deal the doom of my weird.”
\n “By my faith,” quoth the host, “all that ever I promised, that shall I keep with good will.” Then he gave him a servant to set him in the way, and lead him by the downs, that he should have no need to ford the stream, and should fare by the shortest road through the groves; and Gawain thanked the lord for the honour done him. Then he would take leave of the ladies, and courteously he kissed them, and spake, praying them to receive his thanks, and they made like reply; then with many sighs they commended him to Christ, and he departed courteously from that folk. Each man that he met he thanked him for his service and his solace, and the pains he had been at to do his will; and each found it as hard to part from the knight as if he had ever dwelt with him.
\n Then they led him with torches to his chamber, and brought him to his bed to rest. That he slept soundly I may not say, for the morrow gave him much to think on. Let him rest awhile, for he was near that which he sought, and if ye will but listen to me I will tell ye how it fared with him thereafter.<\/p>\n
*****<\/p>\n
Now the New Year drew nigh, and the night passed, and the day chased the darkness, as is God’s will; but wild weather wakened therewith. The clouds cast the cold to the earth, with enough of the north to slay them that lacked clothing. The snow drave smartly, and the whistling wind blew from the heights, and made great drifts in the valleys. The knight, lying in his bed, listened, for though his eyes were shut, he might sleep but little, and hearkened every cock that crew.
\n He arose ere the day broke, by the light of a lamp that burned in his chamber, and called to his chamberlain, bidding him bring his armour and saddle his steed. The other gat him up, and fetched his garments, and robed Sir Gawain.
\n First he clad him in his clothes to keep off the cold, and then in his harness, which was well and fairly kept. Both hauberk and plates were well burnished, the rings of the rich byrny freed from rust, and all as fresh as at first, so that the knight was fain to thank them. Then he did on each piece, and bade them bring his steed, while he put the fairest raiment on himself; his coat with its fair cognizance, adorned with precious stones upon velvet, with broidered seams, and all furred within with costly skins. And he left not the lace, the lady’s gift, that Gawain forgot not, for his own good. When he had girded on his sword he wrapped the gift twice about him, swathed around his waist. The girdle of green silk set gaily and well upon the royal red cloth, rich to behold, but the knight ware it not for pride of the pendants, polished though they were with fair gold that gleamed brightly on the ends, but to save himself from sword and knife, when it behoved him to abide his hurt without question. With that the hero went forth, and thanked that kindly folk full often.
\n Then was Gringalet ready, that was great and strong, and had been well cared for and tended in every wise; in fair condition was that proud steed, and fit for a journey. Then Gawain went to him, and looked on his coat, and said by his sooth, “There is a folk in this place that thinketh on honour; much joy may they have, and the lord who maintains them, and may all good betide that lovely lady all her life long. Since they for charity cherish a guest, and hold honour in their hands, may He who holds the heaven on high requite them, and also ye all. And if I might live anywhere on earth, I would give ye full reward, readily, if so I might.” Then he set foot in the stirrup and bestrode his steed, and his squire gave him his shield, which he laid on his shoulder. Then he smote Gringalet with his golden spurs, and the steed pranced on the stones and would stand no longer.
\n By that his man was mounted, who bare his spear and lance, and Gawain quoth, “I commend this castle to Christ, may He give it ever good fortune.” Then the drawbridge was let down, and the broad gates unbarred and opened on both sides; the knight crossed himself, and passed through the gateway, and praised the porter, who knelt before the prince, and gave him good-day, and commended him to God. Thus the knight went on his way with the one man who should guide him to that dread place where he should receive rueful payment.
\n The two went by hedges where the boughs were bare, and climbed the cliffs where the cold clings. Naught fell from the heavens, but ’twas ill beneath them; mist brooded over the moor and hung on the mountains; each hill had a cap, a great cloak, of mist. The streams foamed and bubbled between their banks, dashing sparkling on the shores where they shelved downwards. Rugged and dangerous was the way through the woods, till it was time for the sun-rising. Then were they on a high hill; the snow lay white beside them, and the man who rode with Gawain drew rein by his master.
\n “Sir,” he said, “I have brought ye hither, and now ye are not far from the place that ye have sought so specially. But I will tell ye for sooth, since I know ye well, and ye are such a knight as I well love, would ye follow my counsel ye would fare the better. The place whither ye go is accounted full perilous, for he who liveth in that waste is the worst on earth, for he is strong and fierce, and loveth to deal mighty blows; taller is he than any man on earth, and greater of frame than any four in Arthur’s court, or in any other. And this is his custom at the Green Chapel; there may no man pass by that place, however proud his arms, but he does him to death by force of his hand, for he is a discourteous knight, and shews no mercy. Be he churl or chaplain who rides by that chapel, monk or mass priest, or any man else, he thinks it as pleasant to slay them as to pass alive himself. Therefore, I tell ye, as sooth as ye sit in saddle, if ye come there and that knight know it, ye shall be slain, though ye had twenty lives; trow me that truly! He has dwelt here full long and seen many a combat; ye may not defend ye against his blows. Therefore, good Sir Gawain, let the man be, and get ye away some other road; for God’s sake seek ye another land, and there may Christ speed ye! And I will hie me home again, and I promise ye further that I will swear by God and the saints, or any other oath ye please, that I will keep counsel faithfully, and never let any wit the tale that ye fled for fear of any man.”
\n “Gramercy,” quoth Gawain, but ill-pleased. “Good fortune be his who wishes me good, and that thou wouldst keep faith with me I will believe; but didst thou keep it never so truly, an I passed here and fled for fear as thou sayest, then were I a coward knight, and might not be held guiltless. So I will to the chapel let chance what may, and talk with that man, even as I may list, whether for weal or for woe as fate may have it. Fierce though he may be in fight, yet God knoweth well how to save His servants.”
\n “Well,” quoth the other, “now that ye have said so much that ye will take your own harm on yourself, and ye be pleased to lose your life, I will neither let nor keep ye. Have here your helm and the spear in your hand, and ride down this same road beside the rock till ye come to the bottom of the valley, and there look a little to the left hand, and ye shall see in that vale the chapel, and the grim man who keeps it. Now fare ye well, noble Gawain; for all the gold on earth I would not go with ye nor bear ye fellowship one step further.” With that the man turned his bridle into the wood, smote the horse with his spurs as hard as he could, and galloped off, leaving the knight alone.
\n Quoth Gawain, “I will neither greet nor groan, but commend myself to God, and yield me to His will.”
\n Then the knight spurred Gringalet, and rode adown the path close in by a bank beside a grove. So he rode through the rough thicket, right into the dale, and there he halted, for it seemed him wild enough. No sign of a chapel could he see, but high and burnt banks on either side and rough rugged crags with great stones above. An ill-looking place he thought it.
\n Then he drew in his horse and looked around to seek the chapel, but he saw none and thought it strange. Then he saw as it were a mound on a level space of land by a bank beside the stream where it ran swiftly, the water bubbled within as if boiling. The knight turned his steed to the mound, and lighted down and tied the rein to the branch of a linden; and he turned to the mound and walked round it, questioning with himself what it might be. It had a hole at the end and at either side, and was overgrown with clumps of grass, and it was hollow within as an old cave or the crevice of a crag; he knew not what it might be.
\n “Ah,” quoth Gawain, “can this be the Green Chapel? Here might the devil say his mattins at midnight! Now I wis there is wizardry here. ‘Tis an ugly oratory, all overgrown with grass, and ‘twould well beseem that fellow in green to say his devotions on devil’s wise. Now feel I in five wits, ’tis the foul fiend himself who hath set me this tryst, to destroy me here! This is a chapel of mischance: ill-luck betide it, ’tis the cursedest kirk that ever I came in!”
\n Helmet on head and lance in hand, he came up to the rough dwelling, when he heard over the high hill beyond the brook, as it were in a bank, a wondrous fierce noise, that rang in the cliff as if it would cleave asunder. ‘Twas as if one ground a scythe on a grindstone, it whirred and whetted like water on a mill-wheel and rushed and rang, terrible to hear.
\n “By God,” quoth Gawain, “I trow that gear is preparing for the knight who will meet me here. Alas! naught may help me, yet should my life be forfeit, I fear not a jot!” With that he called aloud. “Who waiteth in this place to give me tryst? Now is Gawain come hither: if any man will aught of him let him hasten hither now or never.”
\n “Stay,” quoth one on the bank above his head, “and ye shall speedily have that which I promised ye.” Yet for a while the noise of whetting went on ere he appeared, and then he came forth from a cave in the crag with a fell weapon, a Danish axe newly dight, wherewith to deal the blow. An evil head it had, four feet large, no less, sharply ground, and bound to the handle by the lace that gleamed brightly. And the knight himself was all green as before, face and foot, locks and beard, but now he was afoot. When he came to the water he would not wade it, but sprang over with the pole of his axe, and strode boldly over the brent that was white with snow.
\n Sir Gawain went to meet him, but he made no low bow. The other said, “Now, fair sir, one may trust thee to keep tryst. Thou art welcome, Gawain, to my place. Thou hast timed thy coming as befits a true man. Thou knowest the covenant set between us: at this time twelve months agone thou didst take that which fell to thee, and I at this New Year will readily requite thee. We are in this valley, verily alone, here are no knights to sever us, do what we will. Have off thy helm from thine head, and have here thy pay; make me no more talking than I did then when thou didst strike off my head with one blow.”
\n “Nay,” quoth Gawain, “by God that gave me life, I shall make no moan whatever befall me, but make thou ready for the blow and I shall stand still and say never a word to thee, do as thou wilt.”<\/p>\n
\n With that he bent his head and shewed his neck all bare, and made as if he had no fear, for he would not be thought a-dread.
\n Then the Green Knight made him ready, and grasped his grim weapon to smite Gawain. With all his force he bore it aloft with a mighty feint of slaying him: had it fallen as straight as he aimed he who was ever doughty of deed had been slain by the blow. But Gawain swerved aside as the axe came gliding down to slay him as he stood, and shrank a little with the shoulders, for the sharp iron. The other heaved up the blade and rebuked the prince with many proud words:
\n “Thou art not Gawain,” he said, “who is held so valiant, that never feared he man by hill or vale, but thou shrinkest for fear ere thou feelest hurt. Such cowardice did I never hear of Gawain! Neither did I flinch from thy blow, or make strife in King Arthur’s hall. My head fell to my feet, and yet I fled not; but thou didst wax faint of heart ere any harm befell. Wherefore must I be deemed the braver knight.”
\n Quoth Gawain, “I shrank once, but so will I no more, though an my head fall on the stones I cannot replace it. But haste, Sir Knight, by thy faith, and bring me to the point, deal me my destiny, and do it out of hand, for I will stand thee a stroke and move no more till thine axe have hit me–my troth on it.”
\n “Have at thee, then,” quoth the other, and heaved aloft the axe with fierce mien, as if he were mad. He struck at him fiercely but wounded him not, withholding his hand ere it might strike him.
\n Gawain abode the stroke, and flinched in no limb, but stood still as a stone or the stump of a tree that is fast rooted in the rocky ground with a hundred roots.
\n Then spake gaily the man in green, “So now thou hast thine heart whole it behoves me to smite. Hold aside thy hood that Arthur gave thee, and keep thy neck thus bent lest it cover it again.”
\n Then Gawain said angrily, “Why talk on thus? Thou dost threaten too long. I hope thy heart misgives thee.”
\n “For sooth,” quoth the other, “so fiercely thou speakest I will no longer let thine errand wait its reward.” Then he braced himself to strike, frowning with lips and brow, ’twas no marvel that it pleased but ill him who hoped for no rescue. He lifted the axe lightly and let it fall with the edge of the blade on the bare neck. Though he struck swiftly it hurt him no more than on the one side where it severed the skin. The sharp blade cut into the flesh so that the blood ran over his shoulder to the ground. And when the knight saw the blood staining the snow, he sprang forth, swift-foot, more than a spear’s length, seized his helmet and set it on his head, cast his shield over his shoulder, drew out his bright sword, and spake boldly (never since he was born was he half so blithe), “Stop, Sir Knight, bid me no more blows. I have stood a stroke here without flinching, and if thou give me another, I shall requite thee, and give thee as good again. By the covenant made betwixt us in Arthur’s hall but one blow falls to me here. Halt, therefore.”
\n Then the Green Knight drew off from him and leaned on his axe, setting the shaft on the ground, and looked on Gawain as he stood all armed and faced him fearlessly–at heart it pleased him well. Then he spake merrily in a loud voice, and said to the knight, “Bold sir, be not so fierce, no man here hath done thee wrong, nor will do, save by covenant, as we made at Arthur’s court. I promised thee a blow and thou hast it–hold thyself well paid! I release thee of all other claims. If I had been so minded I might perchance have given thee a rougher buffet. First I menaced thee with a feigned one, and hurt thee not for the covenant that we made in the first night, and which thou didst hold truly. All the gain didst thou give me as a true man should. The other feint I proffered thee for the morrow: my fair wife kissed thee, and thou didst give me her kisses–for both those days I gave thee two blows without scathe–true man, true return. But the third time thou didst fail, and therefore hadst thou that blow. For ’tis my weed thou wearest, that same woven girdle, my own wife wrought it, that do I wot for sooth. Now know I well thy kisses, and thy conversation, and the wooing of my wife, for ’twas mine own doing. I sent her to try thee, and in sooth I think thou art the most faultless knight that ever trode earth. As a pearl among white peas is of more worth than they, so is Gawain, i’ faith, by other knights. But thou didst lack a little, Sir Knight, and wast wanting in loyalty, yet that was for no evil work, nor for wooing neither, but because thou lovedst thy life–therefore I blame thee the less.”
\n Then the other stood a great while, still sorely angered and vexed within himself; all the blood flew to his face, and he shrank for shame as the Green Knight spake; and the first words he said were, “Cursed be ye, cowardice and covetousness, for in ye is the destruction of virtue.” Then he loosed the girdle, and gave it to the knight. “Lo, take there the falsity, may foul befall it! For fear of thy blow cowardice bade me make friends with covetousness and forsake the customs of largess and loyalty, which befit all knights. Now am I faulty and false and have been afeared: from treachery and untruth come sorrow and care. I avow to thee, Sir Knight, that I have ill done; do then thy will. I shall be more wary hereafter.”
\n Then the other laughed and said gaily, “I wot I am whole of the hurt I had, and thou hast made such free confession of thy misdeeds, and hast so borne the penance of mine axe edge, that I hold thee absolved from that sin, and purged as clean as if thou hadst never sinned since thou wast born. And this girdle that is wrought with gold and green, like my raiment, do I give thee, Sir Gawain, that thou mayest think upon this chance when thou goest forth among princes of renown, and keep this for a token of the adventure of the Green Chapel, as it chanced between chivalrous knights. And thou shalt come again with me to my dwelling and pass the rest of this feast in gladness.” Then the lord laid hold of him, and said, “I wot we shall soon make peace with my wife, who was thy bitter enemy.”
\n “Nay, forsooth,” said Sir Gawain, and seized his helmet and took it off swiftly, and thanked the knight: “I have fared ill, may bliss betide thee, and may He who rules all things reward thee swiftly. Commend me to that courteous lady, thy fair wife, and to the other my honoured ladies, who have beguiled their knight with skilful craft. But ’tis no marvel if one be made a fool and brought to sorrow by women’s wiles, for so was Adam beguiled by one, and Solomon by many, and Samson all too soon, for Delilah dealt him his doom; and David thereafter was wedded with Bathsheba, which brought him much sorrow–if one might love a woman and believe her not, ’twere great gain! And since all they were beguiled by women, methinks ’tis the less blame to me that I was misled! But as for thy girdle, that will I take with good will, not for gain of the gold, nor for samite, nor silk, nor the costly pendants, neither for weal nor for worship, but in sign of my frailty. I shall look upon it when I ride in renown and remind myself of the fault and faintness of the flesh; and so when pride uplifts me for prowess of arms, the sight of this lace shall humble my heart. But one thing would I pray, if it displease thee not: since thou art lord of yonder land wherein I have dwelt, tell me what thy rightful name may be, and I will ask no more.”
\n “That will I truly,” quoth the other. “Bernlak de Hautdesert am I called in this land. Morgain le Fay dwelleth in mine house 12, and through knowledge of clerkly craft hath she taken many. For long time was she the mistress of Merlin, who knew well all you knights of the court. Morgain the goddess is she called therefore, and there is none so haughty but she can bring him low. She sent me in this guise to yon fair hall to test the truth of the renown that is spread abroad of the valour of the Round Table. She taught me this marvel to betray your wits, to vex Guinevere and fright her to death by the man who spake with his head in his hand at the high table. That is she who is at home, that ancient lady, she is even thine aunt, Arthur’s half-sister, the daughter of the Duchess of Tintagel, who afterward married King Uther. Therefore I bid thee, knight, come to thine aunt, and make merry in thine house; my folk love thee, and I wish thee as well as any man on earth, by my faith, for thy true dealing.”
\n But Sir Gawain said nay, he would in no wise do so; so they embraced and kissed, and commended each other to the Prince of Paradise, and parted right there, on the cold ground. Gawain on his steed rode swiftly to the king’s hall, and the Green Knight got him whithersoever he would.
\n Sir Gawain who had thus won grace of his life, rode through wild ways on Gringalet; oft he lodged in a house, and oft without, and many adventures did he have and came off victor full often, as at this time I cannot relate in tale. The hurt that he had in his neck was healed, he bare the shining girdle as a baldric bound by his side, and made fast with a knot ‘neath his left arm, in token that he was taken in a fault–and thus he came in safety again to the court.<\/p>\n
\n Then joy awakened in that dwelling when the king knew that the good Sir Gawain was come, for he deemed it gain. King Arthur kissed the knight, and the queen also, and many valiant knights sought to embrace him. They asked him how he had fared, and he told them all that had chanced to him–the adventure of the chapel, the fashion of the knight, the love of the lady–at last of the lace. He showed them the wound in the neck which he won for his disloyalty at the hand of the knight, the blood flew to his face for shame as he told the tale.
\n “Lo, lady,” he quoth, and handled the lace, “this is the bond of the blame that I bear in my neck, this is the harm and the loss I have suffered, the cowardice and covetousness in which I was caught, the token of my covenant in which I was taken. And I must needs wear it so long as I live, for none may hide his harm, but undone it may not be, for if it hath clung to thee once, it may never be severed.”
\n Then the king comforted the knight, and the court laughed loudly at the tale, and all made accord that the lords and the ladies who belonged to the Round Table, each hero among them, should wear bound about him a baldric of bright green for the sake of Sir Gawain.13 And to this was agreed all the honour of the Round Table, and he who ware it was honoured the more thereafter, as it is testified in the best book of romance. That in Arthur’s days this adventure befell, the book of Brutus bears witness. For since that bold knight came hither first, and the siege and the assault were ceased at Troy, I wis<\/p>\n
Many a venture herebefore
\n Hath fallen such as this:
\n May He that bare the crown of thorn
\n Bring us unto His bliss.<\/p>\n
Amen.<\/p>\n
——————————————————————————–<\/p>\n
NOTES<\/p>\n
1. “The Legend of Sir Gawain,” Grimm Library, Vol. VII. (Chapter IX. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight).
\n2. Dance accompanied by song. Often mentioned in old romances.
\n3. Agravain, “\u00c3\u00a0 la dure main.” This characterisation of Gawain’s brother seems to indicate that there was a French source at the root of this story. The author distinctly tells us more than once that the tale, as he tells it, was written in a book, M. Gaston Paris thinks that the direct source was an Anglo-Norman poem, now lost.
\n4. If any in this hall holds himself so hardy. This, the main incident of the tale, is apparently of very early date. The oldest version we possess is that found in the Irish tale of the Fled Bricrend (Bricriu’s feast) [edited and translated by the Rev. G. Henderson, M.A., Irish Texts Society, vol. ii.], where the hero of the tale is the Irish champion, Cuchulinn. Two medi\u00c3\u00a6val romances, the Mule sans Frein (French) and Diu Kr\u00c3\u00b4ne (German), again attribute it to Gawain; while the continuator of Chr\u00c3\u00a9tien de Troye’s Conte del Graal gives as hero a certain Carados, whom he represents as Arthur’s nephew; and the prose Perceval has Lancelot. So far as the medi\u00c3\u00a6val versions are concerned, the original hero is undoubtedly Gawain; and our poem gives the fullest and most complete form of the story we possess. In the Irish version the magician is a giant, and the abnormal size and stature of the Green Knight is, in all probability, the survival of a primitive feature. His curious colour is a trait found nowhere else. In Diu Kr\u00c3\u00b4ne we are told that the challenger changes shapes in a terrifying manner, but no details are given.
\n5. For Yule was over-past. This passage, descriptive of the flight of the year, should be especially noticed. Combined with the other passages–the description of Gawain’s journey, the early morning hunts, the dawning of New Year’s Day, and the ride to the Green Chapel–they indicate a knowledge of Nature, and an observant eye for her moods, uncommon among medi\u00c3\u00a6val poets. It is usual enough to find graceful and charming descriptions of spring and early summer–an appreciation of May in especial, when the summer courts were held, is part of the stock-in-trade of medi\u00c3\u00a6val romancers–but a sympathy with the year in all its changes is far rarer, and certainly deserves to be specially reckoned to the credit of this nameless writer.
\n6. First a rich carpet was stretched on the floor. The description of the arming of Gawain is rather more detailed in the original, but some of the minor points are not easy to understand, the identification of sundry of the pieces of armour being doubtful.
\n7. The pentangle painted thereupon in gleaming gold. I do not remember that the pentangle is elsewhere attributed to Gawain. He often bears a red shield; but the blazon varies. Indeed, the heraldic devices borne by Arthur’s knights are distractingly chaotic–their legends are older than the science of heraldry, and no one has done for them the good office that the compiler of the Thidrek Saga has rendered to his Teutonic heroes.
\n8. The Wilderness of Wirral. This is in Cheshire. Sir F. Madden suggests that the forest which forms the final stage of Gawain’s journey is that of Inglewood, in Cumberland. The geography here is far clearer than is often the case in such descriptions.
\n9. ‘Twas the fairest castle that ever a knight owned. Here, again, I have omitted some of the details of the original, the architectural terms lacking identification.
\n10. With blast of the bugle fared forth to the field. The account of each day’s hunting contains a number of obsolete terms and details of woodcraft, not given in full. The meaning of some has been lost, and the minute descriptions of skinning and dismembering the game would be distinctly repulsive to the general reader. They are valuable for a student of the history of the English sport, but interfere with the progress of the story. The fact that the author devotes so much space to them seems to indicate that he lived in the country and was keenly interested in field sports. (Gottfried von Strassbourg’s Tristan contains a similar and almost more detailed description.)
\n11. I will give [you] my girdle. This magic girdle, which confers invulnerability on its owner, is a noticeable feature of our story. It is found nowhere else in this connection, yet in other romances we find that Gawain possesses a girdle with similar powers (cf., my Legend of Sir Gawain, Chap. IX.). Such a talisman was also owned by Cuchulinn, the Irish hero, who has many points of contact with Gawain. It seems not improbable that this was also an old feature of the story. I have commented, in the Introduction, on the lady’s persistent wooing of Gawain, and need not repeat the remarks here. The Celtic Lay of the Great Fool (Amadan Mor) presents some curious points of contact with our story, which may, however, well be noted here. In the Lay the hero is mysteriously deprived of his legs, through the draught from a cup proffered by a Gruagach or magician. He comes to a castle, the lord of which goes out hunting, leaving his wife in the care of the Great Fool, who is to allow no man to enter. He falls asleep, and a young knight arrives and kisses the host’s wife. The Great Fool, awaking, refuses to allow the intruder to depart; and, in spite of threats and blandishments, insists on detaining him till the husband returns. Finally, the stranger reveals himself as the host in another shape; he is also the Gruagach, who deprived the hero of his limbs, and the Great Fool’s brother. He has only intended to test the Amadon Mor’s fidelity. A curious point in connection with this story is that it possesses a prose opening which shows a marked affinity with the “Perceval” enfances. That the Perceval and Gawain stories early became connected is certain, but what is the precise connection between them and the Celtic Lay is not clear. In its present form the latter is certainly posterior to the Grail romances, but it is quite possible that the matter with which it deals represents a tradition older than the Arthurian story.
\n12. Morgain le Fay, who dwelleth in my house. The enmity between Morgain le Fay and Guinevere, which is here stated to have been the motif of the enchantment, is no invention of the author, but is found in the Merlin, probably the earliest of the Arthurian prose romances. In a later version of our story, a poem, written in ballad form, and contained in the “Percy” MS., Morgain does not appear; her place is taken by an old witch, mother to the lady, but the enchantment is still due to her spells. In this later form the knight bears the curious name of Sir Bredbeddle. That given in our romance, Bernlak de Hautdesert,, seems to point to the original French source of the story. (It is curious that Morgain should here be represented as extremely old, while Arthur is still in his first youth. There is evidently a discrepancy or misunderstanding of the source here.)
\n13. A baldric of bright green, for sake of Sir Gawain. The later version connects this lace with that worn by the knights of the Bath; but this latter was white, not green. The knights wore it on the left shoulder till they had done some gallant deed, or till some noble lady took it off for them.
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