Book I

Since Troy's assault and siege, I trow, were over-past,
To brands and ashes burnt that stately burg at last,
And he, the traitor proved, for treason that he wrought,
Was fitly tried and judged, — his fortune elsewhere sought
The truest knight on earth, Æneas, with his kin,
Who vanquished provinces, and did, as princes, win
Of all the Western Isles, the wealth and worth alway;
Rich Romulus to Rome full swift hath ta'en his way,
First, hath he founded fair that city in his pride
To which he gave his name, it bears it to this tide;
Ticius doth dwellings found, turning to Tuscany,
And Langobard, a race raised up in, Lombardy.
But Felix Brutus sailed full far, o'er the French flood,
And on its banks so broad founded Britain, the good,
in bliss;
Where war nor wonder fail
And ne'er have done, ywis,
Nor shall both bliss and bale
Their shifting chances miss.

And when that baron bold had Britain made, I trow,
Bold men were bred therein, who loved strife well enow,
And many a war they waged in those good days of yore —
Of marvels stern and strange, in this land many more
Have chanced than otherwhere, since that same time, I ween —
But of all kings who e'er o'er Britain lords have been,
Fairest was Arthur all, and boldest, so men tell;
Therefore I think to shew a venture that befell
In his time, which some men for a sheer wonder hold,
And strange above all tales that be of Arthur told.
If ye will list this lay a little while, in sooth,
I'll tell ye as I heard it told in town for truth
with tongue —
As it doth stand, to wit,
In story stiff and strong,
In letters fairly writ,
The land hath known it long.

At Camelot lay the King, all on a Christmas-tide, -
With many a lovely lord, and gallant knight beside,
And of the Table Round did the rich brotherhood
High revel hold aright, and mirthful was their mood:
Oft-times on tourney bent those gallants sought the field,
And gentle knights in joust would shiver spear and shield;
Anon would seek the court for sport and carol gay —
For fifteen days full told the feast was held alway,
With all the meat and mirth that men might well devise,
Right glorious was the glee that rang in riotous wise.
Glad clamour through the day, dancing throughout the night;
Good luck throughout the hall and chambers well bedight,
Had lords and ladies fair, each one as pleased him best,
With all of this world's weal they dwelt, those gallant guests;
For Christ no braver knights had faced or toil or strife,
No fairer ladies e'er had drawn the breath of life,
And he, the comeliest king that e'er held court, forsooth,
For all this goodly folk were e'en in their first youth,
and still
The happiest under heaven,
A king of stalwart will,
'T were hard with them to even
Another host on hill!

So young the New Year was, methinks it just was born,
Double upon the dais they served the meat that morn;
Into the hall he came, with all his knights, the King,
E'en as the chapel choir to end the mass did sing.
Loud rang the voice of clerk and cantor there aloft,
'Nowell, Nowell!' they sang, and cried the word full oft.
And sithen forth they run for handsel fair and free
Their New Year's gifts they pray, or give them readily.
And then about the gifts they make debate enow,
And ladies laugh full loud, tho' they have lost, I trow! ',
And this I rede ye well, not wroth was he who won! —
And all this mirth they made till meal-time came — anon
The board was set, they washed, and then in order meet
The noblest aye above, each gallant took his seat.
When Gaynore, gayly clad, stepped forth among them all,
Upon the royal dai's, high in the midmost hall.
Sendal swept at her side, and eke above her head
A tapestry of Tars, and choice Toulouse outspread,
And all embroidered fair, and set with gems so gay
That might be proved of price, an ye their worth would pay
one day;
Right fair she was, the queen,
With eyes of shining grey,
That fairer he had seen
No man might soothly say!

Arthur, he would not eat till all were served with food,
Glad of his gladness he, somewhat of child-like mood; /
A changeful life he loved,, he liked it not a whit,
Either o'er-long to lie, or e'en o'er-long to sit,
So chafed his youthful blood, and eke his busy brain.
Also a custom good, to which the King was fain —
Thro' valour 'stablished fast — that never would he eat
On such high holiday ere yet adventure meet
Were told unto his ear — or wondrous tale enow,
Or else some marvel great that he might well allow —
Tales of his father's days, of arms, of emprise high, —
Or e'en some knight besought another's skill to try,
To join with him in joust, in jeopardy to lay
Life against life, each one, on hap of knightly play.
As Fortune them might aid — in quest of honour fair —
This was his custom good when as in court he were
At each high holiday, among his courtiers there
in hall,
Fair-faced, and free of fear,
He sitteth o'er them all,
Right keen in that New Year,
And maketh mirth withal.

Thus in his place he stands, the young and gallant king,
Before the royal board, talking of many a thing.
There good Gawain, gay clad, beside Gaynore doth sit, ,
Agravain 'dure main,' beyond her as is fit;
(Both the King's sister's sons, and knights of valiant mood — )
High at the table sits Baldwin the Bishop good,
And Ywain, Urian's son, doth with the Bishop eat —
These on the dais are served, in seemly wise, and meet.
Full many a gallant knight sits at the board below;
See where the first course comes, while loud the trumpets blow!
With many a banner bright that gaily waves thereby,
And royal roll of drums, and pipes that shrill on high.
Wild warblings waken there, and sweet notes rise and fall,
Till many a heart swelled high within that castle hall!
Dainties they bring therewith, and meats both choice and rare —
Such plenty of fresh food, so many dishes bear,
They scarce might find a place to set, the folk before,
The silver vessels all that savoury messes bore,
on cloth,
The guests they help themselves,
Thereto they be not loth,
Each twain had dishes twelve,
Good beer, and red wine both.

Now of their service good I think no more to say,
For each man well may wot no lack was there that day.
Noise that to them was new methinks now drew anear
Such as each man in hall were ever fain to hear,
For scarce the joyful sounds unto an end were brought,
And scarce had the first course been fitly served at court,
When through the hall door rushed a champion, fierce and fell,
Highest in stature he, of all on earth who dwell!
From neck to waist so square, and eke so thickly set,
His loins and limbs alike, so long they were, and great,
Half giant upon earth, I hold him to have been,
In every way of men the tallest he, I ween —
The merriest in his might that e'er a joust might ride,
Sternly his body framed in back, and breast, and side,
Belly and waist alike were fitly formed, and small,
E'en so his features fair were sharply cut withal,
and clean,
Men marvelled at his hue,
So was his semblance seen,
He fared as one on feud,
And over all was green! j

All green bedight that knight, and green his garments fair
A narrow coat that clung straight to his side he ware,
A mantle plain above, lined on the inner side
With costly fur and fair, set on good cloth and wide,
So sleek, and bright in hue — therewith his hood was gay
Which from his head was doffed, and on his shoulders lay.
Full tightly drawn his hose, all of the self-same green,
Well clasped about his calf — there-under spurs full keen
Of gold on silken lace, all striped in fashion bright,
That dangled beneath his legs — so rode that gallant knight.
His vesture, verily, was green as grass doth grow,
The barring of his belt, the blithe stones set arow,
That decked in richest wise his raiment fine and fair,
Himself, his saddle-bow, in silken broideries rare,
'T were hard to tell the half, so cunning was the wise
In which 't was broidered all with birds, and eke with flies!
Decked was the horse's neck, and decked the crupper bold,
With gauds so gay of green, the centre set with gold.
And every harness boss was all enamelled green,
The stirrups where he stood were of the self-same sheen,
The saddle-bow behind, the girths so long and fair,
They gleamed and glittered all with green stones rich and rare,
The very steed beneath the self-same semblance ware,
he rides
A green horse great and tall;
A steed full stiff to guide,
In broidered bridle all
He worthily bestrides!

Right gaily was the knight bedecked, all green his weed,
The hair upon his head, the mane of his good steed,
Fair floating locks enfold his shoulders broad and strong,
Great as a bush the beard that on his breast low hung,
And, with his goodly hair that hung down from his head,
A covering round his arms, above his elbows, spread.
Laced were his arms below, e'en in the self-same way
As a king's cap-a-dos, that clasps his neck alway.
The mane of that great steed was well and deftly wrought,
Well crisped and combed the hair, with many a knot in-caught.
Folded with golden thread about the green so fair,
Here lay a twist of gold, and here a coil of hair.
In self-same wise the tail and top-most crest were twined,
A band of brightest green the twain alike did bind,
Which, set with precious stones, hung the tail's length adown,
Then, twisted in a knot, on high the crest did crown.
There-from hung many a bell, of burnished gold so bright;
Such foal upon the fell, bestridden by such knight,
Sure ne'er within that hall before of mortal sight
were seen,
As lightning gleaming bright
So seemed to all his sheen,
They deemed that no man might
Endure his blows so keen.

Nor helmet on his head, nor hauberk did he wear,
Gorget nor breast-plate good, as knights are wont to bear;
Nor shaft to smite, nor shield that blows might well withstand,
Naught but a holly bough he carried in one hand,
(When all the groves be bare then fullest is its green),
And in his other hand a huge axe, sharp and sheen,
A weapon ill to see, would one its fashion say,
The haft, it measured full an ell-yard long alway,
The blade of good green steel, and all with gold inlaid,
Right sharp and broad the edge, and burnished bright the blade.
'T was sharpened well to cut, e'en as a razor good,
Right well the steel was set in staff so stiff of wood,
And iron bands to bind throughout the length it bare,
With cunning work of green all wrought, and graven fair.
Twined with a lace that fell in silken loops so soft
E'en at the head, adown the haft 't was caught full oft
With hanging tassells fair that silken threads entwine,
And buttons of bright green, all broidered fair and fine.
Thus in the great hall door the knight stood, fair and tall,
Fearless and free his gaze, he gat him down the hall,
Greeting he gave to none, but looked right steadily
Toward the royal seat, and quoth, 'Now where is he,
The lord of all this folk? To see him am I fain,
And with himself would speak, might I the boon attain! ' —
With frown
He looked upon the knights,
And paced him up and down,
Fain would he know aright
Who was of most renown! /

Then each man gazed amain, each would that hero see,
And each man marvelled much what might the meaning be,
That man and horse, alike, of such a hue were seen,
Green as the growing grass; and greener still, I ween,
E'en than enamel green on gold that gloweth bright:
Then all with one consent drew near unto that knight,
A-marvelling fell they all who he might be, ywis,
For strange sights had they seen, but none so strange as this!
The folk, they deemed it well fantasm, or faerie,
And none among them all dare answer speedily,
But all, astonied, gazed, and held them still as stone,
Throughout that goodly hall, in silence every one,
Their faces changed, as they by sleep were overcome,
suddenly,
I deem not all for fear,
But some for courtesy,
They fain would lend an ear
And let the King reply.

Arthur before his dais beheld this marvel fair,
And boldly did he speak for dread, he knew it ne'er —
And said: 'Right welcome, Sir, to this my house and hall,
Head of this hostel I, and Arthur, men me call.
Alight from this thy steed, and linger here, I pray,
And what thy will may be hereafter shalt thou say.'
'So help me,' quoth the knight, 'the God who rules o'er all,
I came not here to bide within thy castle wall,
The praise of this thy folk throughout the world is told,
Thy burg, thy barons all, bravest and best they hold,
The stiffest under steel who battle-steed bestride,
Wisest and worthiest they, throughout the whole world wide,
Proven right well in joust, and all fair knightly play,
Renowned for courtesy — so have I heard men say —
And this hath brought me here, e'en at this Yule-tide fair,
For be ye well assured by this green branch I bear
That I would pass in peace, and seek no battle here —
For an it were my will to ride in warlike gear
I have at home an helm, and hauberk good and strong,
A shield and shining spear, with blade both sharp and long,
And other weapons good, that well a knight beseem,
But since I seek no war my weeds are soft, I ween,
And if ye be so bold as all men say ye be
The favour that I ask ye sure will grant to me
of right,'
Arthur, he was not slow
To speak, 'I trow, Sir Knight,
An here thou seek'st a foe
Thou shalt not fail for fight!'

'Nay, here I crave no fight, in sooth I say to thee,
The knights about thy board but beardless bairns they be,
An I were fitly armed, upon this steed so tall,
For lack of strength no man might match me in this hall!
Therefore within thy court I crave a Christmas jest,
'T is Yuletide, and New Year, and here be many a guest,
If any in this hall himself so hardy hold,
So valiant of his hand, of blood and brain so bold,
That stroke for counter-stroke with me exchange he dare,
I give him of free gift this gisarme rich and fair,
This axe of goodly weight, to wield as he see fit, ;
And I will bide his blow, as bare as here I sit.
If one will test my words, and be of valiant mood,
Then let him swiftly come, and take this weapon good, —
Here I renounce my claim, the axe shall be his own —
And I will stand his stroke, here, on this floor of stone.
That I in turn a blow may deal, that boon alone
I pray,
Yet respite shall he have
A twelvemonth, and a day.
Now quickly I thee crave —
Who now hath aught to say?'

If erst they were amazed, now stiller sat they all,
Both high and low, those knights within King Arthur's hall,
The knight upon his steed he sat him fast and true,
And round about the hall his fierce red eyes he threw,
From 'neath his bushy brows, (all green they were in hue,)
Twisting his beard he waits to see if none will rise,
When no man proffers speech with mocking voice he cries,
'What, is this Arthur's house? Is this his gallant band
Whose fame hath run abroad through many a realm and land?
Where be your vaunted pride? Your conquests, where be they?
Your wrath, and fierceness fell, your boastful words alway ?
Now is the Table Round, its revel and renown,
O'er-thrown with but a word from one man's mouth alone,
Since none dare speak for dread tho' ne'er a dint he seel — '
With that he laughed so loud Arthur must shamed be, ,
And in his face so fair the blood rose ruddily
alight,
As wind waxed wroth the King
And every gallant knight,
In words of warlike ring
He hailed that man of might.

And quoth, 'By Heaven, Sir Knight, thou speakest foolishly,
But what thy folly craves we needs must grant to thee,
I trow no knight of mine thy boastful words doth fear,
That goodly axe of thine in God's name give me here,
And / will give the boon which thou dost here demand!'
With that he lightly leapt, and caught him by the hand,
Then lighted down the knight, before the King he stood,
And Arthur, by the haft he gripped that axe so good,
And swung it sternly round, as one who thought to smite,
Before him on the floor he stood, that stranger knight,
Taller by full a head than any in the hall,
With stern mien did he stand, and stroked his beard withal,
And drew his coat adown, e'en with unruffled cheer,
No more was he dismayed for threats he needs must hear
Than at the royal board one bare a cup anear
of wine,
Gawain from out his place
Spake fitting words and fine,
' I pray thee of thy grace
Be this adventure mine!'

Quoth Gawain to the King, ' I pray right worthily
Thou bid me quit this seat, and take my stand by thee,
That so without reproach, I from this board may rise,
And that it be not ill in my liege lady's eyes,
I'll to thy counsel come before this royal court,
Unfitting do I deem that such a boon be sought,
And such a challenge raised in this your goodly hall
That thou thyself be fain to answer it withal,
While many a valiant knight doth sit beside thee still —
I wot there be 'neath Heaven no men of sterner will,
Nor braver on the field where men fight as is fit —
Methinks, the weakest I, the feeblest here of wit,
The less loss of my life, if thou the sooth would' st say!
Save as thy near of kin no praise were mine alway,
No virtue save thy blood I in my body know!
Since this be folly all, nor thine to strike this blow,
And I have prayed the boon, then grant it unto me,
This good court, an I bear myself ungallantly,
may blame!'
Together did they press,
Their counsel was the same,
To free the King, no less,
And give Gawain the game.

Then did the King command that gallant knight to rise,
And swiftly up he gat in fair and courteous wise,
And knelt before his lord, and gripped the axe's haft,
The King, he loosed his hold, and raised his hand aloft,
And blessed him in Christ's Name, and bade him in good part
To be of courage still, hardy of hand and heart.
'Now, Nephew, keep thee well,' he quoth, 'deal but one blow,
And if thou red'st him well, in very truth I know
The blow that he shall deal thou shalt right well withstand!'
Gawain strode to the knight, the gisarme in his hand,
Right boldly did he bide, no whit abashed, I ween,
And frankly to Gawain he quoth, that knight in green,
'Make we a covenant here, ere yet we further go,
And first I ask, Sir Knight, that I thy name may know,
I bid thee tell me true, that I assured may be — '
T faith,' quoth that good knight, 'Gawain, I wot, is he
Who giveth thee this blow, be it for good or ill,
A twelvemonth hence I'll take another at thy will,
The weapon be thy choice, I'll crave no other still
alive!'
The other quoth again,
'Gawain, so may I thrive,
But I shall take full fain,
The dint that thou shalt drive!'

'By Christ,' quoth the Green Knight, 'I trow I am full fain
The blow that here I craved to take from thee, Gawain,
And thou hast well rehearsed, in fashion fair, I trow,
The covenant and the boon I prayed the king but now;
Save that thou here, Sir Knight, shalt soothly swear to me
To seek me out thyself, where e'er it seemeth thee
I may be found on field, and there in turn demand
Such dole as thou shalt deal before this goodly band!'
'Now,' quoth the good Gawain, 'by Him who fashioned me,
I wot not where to seek, nor where thy home shall be,
I know thee not, Sir Knight, thy court, nor yet thy name,
Teach me thereof the truth, and tell me of that same,
And I will use my wit to win me to that goal,
And here I give thee troth, and swear it on my soul!'
'Nay, in this New Year's tide it needs no more, I ween,' —
So to the good Gawain he quoth, that knight in green,
' Save that I tell thee true — when I the blow have ta'en,
Which thou shalt smartly smite — and teach thee here amain
Where be my house, my home, and what my name shall be;
Then may'st thou find thy road, and keep thy pledge with me.
But if I waste no speech, thou shalt the better speed,
And in thy land may'st dwell, nor further seek at need
for fight
Take thy grim tool to thee,
Let see how thou can'st smite!'
Quoth Gawain, 'Willingly,'
And stroked his axe so bright.

The Green Knight on the ground made ready speedily,
He bent his head adown, that so his neck were free,
His long and lovely locks, across the crown they fell,
His bare neck to the nape all men might see right well
Gawain, he gripped his axe, and swung it up on high,
The left foot on the ground he setteth steadily
Upon the neck so bare he let the blade alight,
The sharp edge of the axe the bones asunder smite —
Sheer thro' the flesh it smote, the neck was cleft in two,
The brown steel on the ground it bit, so strong the blow,
The fair head from the neck fell even to the ground,
Spurned by the horse's hoof, e'en as it rolled around,
The red blood spurted forth, and stained the green so bright,
But ne'er for that he failed, nor fell, that stranger knight,
Swiftly he started up, on stiff and steady limb,
And stretching forth his hand, as all men gaped at him,
Grasped at his goodly head, and lift it up again,
Then turned him to his steed, and caught the bridle rein,
Set foot in stirrup-iron, bestrode the saddle fair,
The while he gripped his head e'en by the flowing hair.
He set himself as firm in saddle, so I ween,
As naught had ailed him there, tho' headless he was seen '
in hall;
He turned his steed about,
That corpse, that bled withal,
Full many there had doubt
Of how the pledge might fall!

The head, within his hand he held it up a space,
Toward the royal dais, forsooth, he turned the face,
The eyelids straight were raised, and looked with glance so clear,
Aloud it spake, the mouth, e'en as ye now may hear;
'Look, Gawain, thou be swift to speed as thou hast said, \
And seek, in all good faith, until thy search be sped,
E'en as thou here didst swear, in hearing of these knights —
To the Green Chapel come, I charge thee now aright,
The blow thou hast deserved, such as was dealt to-day,
E'en on the New Year's morn I pledge me to repay,
Full many know my name, "Knight of the Chapel Green" '
To find me, should'st thou seek, thou wilt not fail, I ween,
Therefore thou need'st must come, or be for recreant found!'
With fierce pull at the rein he turned his steed around,
His head within his hand, forth from the hall he rode,
Beneath his horse's hoofs the sparks they flew ab.road,
No man in all the hall wist where he took his way,
Nor whence that knight had come durst any of them say,
what then?
The King and Gawain there
They gazed, and laughed again,
Proven it was full fair
A marvel unto men !

Tho' Arthur in his heart might marvel much, I ween,
No semblance in his speech of fear or dread was seen
Unto the Queen he quoth, in courteous wise, and gay,
'Dear lady, at this tide let naught your heart dismay,
Such craft doth well, methinks, to Christmas-time belong,
When jests be soothly sought, with laugh and merry song,
And when in carols gay our knights and ladies vie —
Natheless unto my meat I'll get me presently,
I may not soon forget the sight mine eyes have seen!'
He turned him to Gawain, and quoth with gladsome mien,
'Now, Sir, hang up thine axe, the blow was soundly sped!'
'T was hung above the dais, on dossel overhead,
That all within the hall might look upon it well,
And by that token true the tale of wonder tell,
Then to the royal board they sat them down, those twain,
The King, and the good knight, and men for service fain
As to the noblest there with double portion wend —
With meat and minstrelsy the Yule-tide feast they spend,
With joy they pass the day till shades of night descend
o'er land,
Now think thee well, Gawain,
And fail not to withstand
The venture thou wast fain
To take unto thine hand!