Book II

Now this first venture fair, befell in the New Year
To Arthur, who such feats was ever fain to hear;
Altho' his words were few whenas at meat they met;
But now to task full stern their hand methinks be set.
Right gladly did Gawain begin these games in hall,
If heavy be the end, small wonder were withal:
A man hath merry mind when he hath drunk amain,
Speedy, the year hath sped and cometh not again;
Beginnings to their end do all unlike appear —
The Yuletide passed away; and eke the after year
Each season severally after the other sent;
When Christmas-tide was past then came the crabbed Lent,
That, changing flesh for fish, doth simpler food provide;
The weather of the world with winter then doth chide,
The cold no longer clings, the clouds themselves uplift,
Shed swift the rain, and warm, the showers of springtide drift,
Fall fair upon the field, the flowers all unfold,
The grass, and e'en the groves all green ye may behold.
The birds begin to build, and greet, with joyful song,
Solace of summer sweet, that followeth ere long —
On bank
The blossoms fair they blow
In hedgerow rich and rank;
The birds sing loud and low
In woodland deep and dank.

After the summer-tide, with gentle winds and soft,
When zephyr on the sward and seeds doth breathe full oft,
(Full gladsome is the growth waxing therefrom, I ween,
Whenas the dewdrops drip from off the leaves so green,
Beneath the blissful beams of the bright summer sun) —
Then nigheth harvest-tide, hardening the grain anon,
With warnings to wax ripe ere come the winter cold,
With drought he drives the dust before him on the wold,
From off the field it flies, in clouds it riseth high;
Winds of the welkin strive with the sun, wrathfully,
The leaves fall from the bough, and lie upon the ground,
And grey is now the grass that erst all green was found;
Ripens and rots the fruit that once was flower gay —
And thus the year doth turn to many a yesterday,
Winter be come again, as needeth not to say
the sage;
Then, when Saint Michael's moon
Be come with winter's gage
Gawain bethinks him soon
Of his dread venture's wage.

Yet till All-Hallows' Day with Arthur did he bide,
Then for his sake the king a fair feast did provide,
Rich was the revel there of the good Table Round,
There were both courteous knights and comely ladies found,
And many sorrowed sore all for that good knight's sake —
Yet none the less no sign of aught but mirth they make,
Tho' joyless all the jests they bandy at that same —
With mourning after meat he to his uncle came,
And of his journey spake, and openly did say:
'Now, liege Lord of my life, your leave I fain would pray,
Ye know how stands the case, thereof no more I'll speak —
Since talk, it mendeth naught, 't were trifling ease to seek;
I to the blow am bound, to-morrow must I fare
To seek the Knight in Green, God knoweth how, or where.'
The best knights in the burg together then they ran,
Yvain and Erec there, with many another man,
Dodinel le Sauvage; the Duke of Clarence came,
Lancelot, Lionel, and Lucain, at that same,
Sir Boors, Sir Bedivere, (the twain were men of might,)
With Mador de la Port, and many another knight.
Courtiers in company nigh to the king they drew,
For counselling that knight, much care at heart they knew.
In dole so drear their tears in hall together blend
To think that good Gawain must on such errand wend
Such dolefull dint endure, no more fair blows to spend
and free —
The knight he made good cheer,
He quoth: 'What boots it me?
For tho' his weird be drear
Each man that same must dree.' )

He dwelt there all that day, at early dawn besought
That men would bring his arms, and all were straightway brought.
A carpet on the floor they stretch full fair and tight,
Rich was the golden gear that on it glittered bright.
The brave man stepped thereon, the steel he handled fair,
A doublet dear of Tars they did upon him there,
A cunning cap-a-dos, that fitted close and well,
All fairly lined throughout, as I have heard it tell.
They set the shoes of steel upon the hero's feet,
And wrapped the legs in greaves, of steel, as fit and meet.
The caps that 'longed thereto polished they were full clean,
And knit about the knee with knots of golden sheen.
Comely the cuisses were that closed him all about
With thongs all tightly tied around his thighs so stout.
And then a byrnie bright with burnished steel they bring,
Upon a stuff so fair woven with many a ring.
And now upon each arm they set the burnished brace
With elbow plates so good — the metal gloves they lace;
Thus all the goodly gear to shield him was in place
that tide —
Rich surcoat doth he wear,
And golden spurs of pride,
His sword is girt full fair
With silk, upon his side.

When he was fitly armed his harness rich they deem,
Nor loop nor latchet small but was with gold a-gleam;
Then, harnessed as he was, his Mass he heard straightway,
On the high altar there an offering meet did lay.
Then, coming to the king, and to the knights at court,
From lords and ladies fair lightly his leave besought.
They kissed the knight, his soul commending to Christ's care —
Ready was Gringalet, girt with a saddle fair,
Gaily it gleamed that day, with fringes all of gold,
For this adventure high new nails it bare for old.
The bridle barred about, with gold adorned well,
The harness of the neck, the skirts that proudly fell,
Crupper and coverture match with the saddle-bow,
On all the red gold nails were richly set a-row,
They glittered and they gleamed, e'en as the sun, I wis —
The knight, he takes his helm, and greets it with a kiss.
'T was hooped about with steel, and all full fitly lined,
He set it on his head, and hasped it close behind.
Over the visor, lo! a kerchief lieth light,
Broidered about and bound with goodly gems and bright,
On a broad silken braid — there many a bird is seen
The painted perroquet appeareth there between
Turtles and true-love knots, so thick entwined there,
As maids seven winters long had wrought with labour fair
in town;
Full dear the circlet's price
That lay around the crown,
Of diamonds its device
That were both bright and brown.

The shield they shewed him then, of flaming gules so red,
There the Pentangle shines, in pure gold burnished.
On baldric bound, the shield, he to his neck makes tight,
Full well I ween, that sign became the comely knight;
And why unto that prince the badge doth well pertain,
Tarry thereby my tale, I yet to tell am fain.
(For Solomon as sign erst the Pentangle set
In tokening of truth, it bears that title yet.)
For 't is in figure formed of full five points I ween,
Each line in other laced, no ending there is seen.
Each doth the other lock — in English land, I wot,
It beareth everywhere the name of 'Endless Knot.'
Therefore as fitting badge the knight this sign doth wear,
For faithful he in five, five-fold the gifts he bare,
Sir Gawain, good was he, pure as refined gold,
Void of all villainy, virtue did him enfold,
and grace —
So the Pentangle new
Hath on his shield a place,
As knight of heart most true,
Fairest of form and face.

First was he faultless found in his five wits, I ween;
Nor failed his fingers five where'er he yet had been;
And all his earthly trust upon those five wounds lay
That Christ won on the Cross, e'en as the Creed doth say.
And wheresoever Fate to fiercest fight did bring,
Truly in thought he deemed, above all other thing,
That all his force, forsooth, from those five joys he drew
Which through her Holy Child, the Queen of Heaven knew;
And for this cause the knight, courteous and comely, bare
On one half of his shield her image painted fair,
That when he looked thereon his courage might not fail —
The fifth five that I find did much this knight avail
Were Frankness, Fellowship, all other gifts above,
Cleanness and Courtesy, that ever did him move,
And Pity, passing all — I trow in this fair five
That knight was clothed and happed o'er all that be alive.
And all these gifts, fivefold, upon that knight were bound,
Each in the other linked, that none an end had found.
Fast fixed upon five points, I trow, that failed him ne'er,
Nor joined at any side, nor sundered anywhere.
Nor was there any point, so cunningly they blend,
Where they beginning make, or where they find an end.
Therefore, upon his shield, fair-shapen, doth that same
Sign, in fair red gold gleam, upon red gules aflame,
Which the Pentangle pure the folk do truly name
with lore —
Armed is Sir Gawain gay,
His lance aloft he bore,
And wished them all ' Good-day,'
He deemed, for evermore.

Spurs to his steed he set, and sprang upon his way,
So that from out the stones the sparks they flew alway —
Seeing that seemly sight the hearts of all did sink,
Each soothly said to each that which they secret think,
Grieved for that comely knight — 'By Christ, 'twere pity great
If yon good knight be lost, who is of fair estate;
His peer on field to find, i' faith, it were not light,
'Twere better to have wrought by wile, methinks, than might!
Such doughty knight a duke were worthier to have been,
A leader upon land, gladly we such had seen ! —
Such lot were better far than he were brought to naught,
Hewn by an elfish man, for gage of prideful thought!
Did ever any king obey such strange behest,
As risk a goodly knight upon a Christmas jest?'
Much water warm, I ween, welled from the eyes of all,
Whenas that gallant knight gat him from Arthur's hall
that day:
Nor here would he abide,
But swiftly went his way,
By toilsome paths did ride,
E'en as the book doth say.

Now rides Gawain the good thro' Logres' realm, I trow,
Forth doth he fare on quest that seemeth ill enow;
Often, companionless, at night alone must lie,
The fare he liketh best he lacketh verily;
No fellow save his foal hath he by wood or wold,
With none, save God alone, that knight may converse hold;
Till that unto North Wales full nigh he needs must draw,
The isles of Anglesey on his left hand he saw;
And fared across the ford and foreland at that same,
Over 'gainst Holyhead, so that he further came
To Wirral's wilds, methinks, nor long therein abode
Since few within that land, they love or man, or God !
And ever as he fared he asked the folk, I ween,
If they had heard men tell tale of a Knight in Green
In all that land about? Or of a Chapel Green?
And all men answered, 'Nay,' naught of that knight they knew,
And none had seen with sight a man who bare such hue
as green;
The knight took roads full strange,
And rugged paths between,
His mood full oft did change
Ere he his goal had seen.

Full many a cliff he climbs within that country's range,
Far flying from his friends he rideth lone and strange;
At every ford and flood he passed upon his way
He found a foe before, of fashion grim alway.
So foul they were, and fell, that he of needs must fight — ;
So many a marvel there befell that gallant knight
That tedious 't were to tell the tithe thereof, I ween —
Sometimes with worms he warred, or wolves his foes have been;
Anon with woodmen wild, who in the rocks do hide —
Of bulls, or bears, or boars, the onslaught doth he bide;
And giants, who drew anigh, from off the moorland height;
Doughty in durance he, and shielded by God's might
Else, doubtless, had he died, full oft had he been slain.
Yet war, it vexed him less than winter's bitter bane,
When the clear water cold from out the clouds was shed,
And froze ere yet it fell on fallow field and dead;
Then, more nights than enow, on naked rocks he lay,
And, half slain with the sleet, in harness slept alway.
While the cold spring that erst its waters clattering flung
From the cliff high o'erhead, in icicles now hung.
In peril thus, and pain, and many a piteous plight
Until the Yuletide Eve alone that gallant knight
did fare;
Sir Gawain, at that tide,
To Mary made his prayer,
For fain he was to ride
Where he might shelter share.

That morn beside a mount his road the knight doth keep,
Threading a forest wild, with ways both strange and deep;
High hills on either hand, and holts full thick below,
Where hoar oaks, hundredfold, do close together grow;
Hazel and hawthorn there, in tangled thicket clung,
Ragged and rough, the moss o'er all a covering flung.
And many birds unblithe, on boughs ye might behold,
Piping full piteously, for pain of bitter cold.
Gawain, on Gringalet, fares lonely thro' the glade,
Thro' many a miry marsh, at heart full sore afraid
That he no shelter find, that, as was fit and right
He serve betimes that Sire, who, on that selfsame night
Was of a Maiden born, our bale to cure, I trow —
Therefore he, sighing, said : 'Lord Christ, I pray Thee now,
And Mary Mother mild, for her Son's sake so dear,
A haven I may find, Thy mass may fitly hear,
And matins at the morn — meekly I crave this boon,
And Paternoster pray, and Ave too, right soon,
with Creed — '
Thus praying, did he ride,
Confessing his misdeed,
Crossing himself, he cried:
'Christ's Cross me better speed!'

Scarce had he signed himself, I ween, of times but three,
When there within the wood a dwelling doth he see;
Above a laund, on lawe, shaded by many a bough,
About its moat there stand of stately trees enow.
The comeliest castle sure, for owner strong and stout,
Set in a meadow fair with park all round about,
Within a palisade of spikes set thick and close,
For more than two miles round the trees they fast enclose;
Sir Gawain, from the side of that burg was aware,
Shimmered the walls, and shone, thro' oaken branches bare.
Then swift he doffed his helm, thanking, I trow, that day
Christ, and Saint Julian, that they had heard alway
Courteous, his piteous prayer, and hearkened to his cry —
'Now grant me,' quoth the knight, 'here right good hostelry.'
Then pricked he Gringalet, with spurs of golden sheen,
The good steed chooseth well the chiefest gate, I ween.
And swift to the bridge end, he comes, the knight so keen,
at last;
The bridge aloft was stayed,
The gates were shut full fast,
The walls were well arrayed,
They feared no tempest's blast.

The knight upon the bank his charger there doth stay,
Beyond the double ditch that round the castle lay,
The walls, in water set they were, and wondrous deep,
And high above his head it towered, the castle keep;
Of hard stone, fitly hewn, up to the corbels fair,
Beneath the battlements the stones well shapen were.
Above 't was fairly set with turrets in between,
And many a loop-hole fair for watchman's gaze so keen.
A better barbican had never met his eye —
Within, the knight beheld a goodly hall and high,
The towers set between the bristling battlements,
Round were they, shapen fair, of goodly ornament,
With carven capitals, by cunning craft well wrought,
Of chalk-white chimneys too, enow they were he thought.
On battled roof, arow, they shone, and glittered white,
And many a pinnacle adorned that palace bright.
The castle cornices they crowned everywhere
So white and thick, it seemed they pared from paper were.
Gawain on Gringalet right good the castle thought
So he might find within the shelter that he sought,
And there, until the feast to fitting end were brought
might rest,
He called, a porter came,
With fair speech, of the guest
He craved from wall his name,
And what were his behest?

'Good Sir,' then quoth Gawain, 'do thou for me this task,
Get thee unto thy lord, and say I shelter ask.'
'Nay, by Saint Peter good,' the porter quoth, "t is well
Welcome be ye, Sir Knight, within these walls to dwell
Long as it liketh ye.' Then swift his way he went,
As swiftly came again, with folk on welcome bent.
The drawbridge let adown, from out the gate they came,
And on the ground so cold they knelt low at that same,
To welcome that good knight in worthy wise that tide;
They shew to him the gate with portals opened wide,
Then o'er the bridge he gat, with greeting gay, the knight,
Serjants his stirrups seize, and bid him swift alight.
To stable that good steed the men run readily,
The knights and squires, they come adown full speedily,
To bring that gentle knight with bliss unto the hall —
Whenas he raised his helm they hasted one and all,
To take it from his hand, to serve him are they fain,
His goodly sword and shield, in charge they take the twain.'
Then greeting good he gave those nobles, every one,
The proud men, pressing nigh, to him have honour done,
Still in his harness happed, to hall they lead him there,
Upon the floor there flamed a fire both fierce and fair,
The castle's lord doth come forth from his chamber door,
To greet, with fitting grace, his guest upon the floor.
He quoth: 'Be welcome here to stay as likes ye still,
For here all is your own to have at your own will,
and hold — '
'Gramercy,' quoth Gawain,
'Of Christ be payment told,'
In courteous wise the twain
Embrace as heroes bold.

Gawain gazed on the knight, who goodly greeting gave,
And deemed that burg so bright was owned of baron brave,
For huge was he in height, and manhood's age he knew,
His broad beard on his breast, as beaver was its hue.
And stalwart in his stride, and strong, and straight, was he,
His face was red as fire, and frank his speech and free.
In sooth, Sir Gawain thought, 'T would 'seem him well on land
To lead in lordship good of men a gallant band.
The lord, he led the way unto a chamber there,
And did his folk command to serve him fit and fair,
Then at his bidding came full many a gallant knight
They led him to a bower, with noble bedding dight.
The curtains all of silk, and hemmed with golden thread,
And comely coverings of fairest cloth o'er spread.
Above, of silk so bright, the broideries they were,
The curtains ran on ropes, with rings of red gold fair.
Rich tapestries of Tars, and Toulouse, on the wall
Hung fair, the floor was spread with the like cloth withal.
And there did they disarm, with many a mirthful rede,
The knight of byrnie bright, and of his warlike weed.
Then rich robes in their stead, I trow, they swiftly brought,
And for the change they chose the choicest to their thought.
Then soon he did them on, and I would have ye know,
Right well became the knight those skirts of seemly flow.
That hero, fair of face, he seemed verily,
To all men who his mien and hue might nearer see
So sweet and lovesome there, of limb so light, they thought
That never Christ on earth a comelier had wrought —
That knight
Thro' the world far and near
Might well be deemed of right
A prince with ne'er a peer
In field of fiercest fight.

A chair before the fire of charcoal, burning bright,
They set for good Gawain, with cloth all draped and dight.
Cushion and footstool fit, the twain they were right good,
Then men a mantle cast around him as he stood,
'T was of a bliaunt brown, broidered in rich device,
And fairly furred within with pelts of goodly price,
Of whitest ermine all, and even so the hood.
Down in that seemly seat he sat, the gallant good,
And warmed him at the fire — then bettered was his cheer;
On trestles fairly set they fix a table near
And spread it with a cloth, that shewed all clean and white,
Napkin and salt-cellar with silver spoons so bright.
The knight washed at his will, and set him down to eat,
Serjants, they served him there in seemly wise and meet;
With diverse dishes sweet, and seasoned of the best,
A double portion then they set before the guest,
Of fishes, baked in bread, or broiled on glowing wood,
Anon came fishes seethed, or stewed with spices good,
With choicest dainties there, as pleasing to his taste —
The knight, he quoth full oft, a feast that board had graced,
Then all, as with one voice, this answer made in haste:
'Fair Friend,
This penance shall ye take,
It shall ye well amend!'
Much mirth the knight did make
For wine did gladness lend.

The hosts, in courteous wise the truth are fain to know
Of this, their goodly guest, if he his name will shew?
As courteously he quoth, he from that court did fare
Holden of good renown, where Arthur rule did bear,
(Rich, royal king was he) o'er all the Table Round — ,
And 't was Gawain himself who here had haven found,
Hither for Christmas come, as chance had ruled it right — '
Then when the lord had learned he had for guest that knight
Loudly he laughed for joy, he deemed such tidings good —
All men within the moat they waxed of mirthful mood
To think that they that tide should in his presence be
Who, for his prowess prized, and purest courtesie,
That doth to him belong, was praised everywhere,
Of all men upon earth none might with him compare.
Each to his fellow said, full softly, 'Now shall we
The seemly fashion fair of courts full fitly see,
With faultless form of speech, and trick of noble word,
What charm in such may be that shall, unasked, be heard
Since here the father fine of courtesie we greet.
Methinks Christ sheweth us much grace, and favour meet,
In granting us such guest for Yule as good Gawain:
When men, blithe for His birth, to sit, methinks, are fain,
and sing,
Customs of courtesie
This knight to us shall teach
And from his lips maybe
We'll learn of love the speech.'

By that was dinner done, the knight from table rose,
The eventide drew nigh, the day was near its close,
The chosen chaplains there to chapel go forthright,
Loudly the bells they ring, e'en as was fit and right.
To solemn evensong of this High Feast they go —
The lord the prayers would hear, his lady fair also,
To comely closet closed she entereth straightway;
And even so, full soon, follows Sir Gawain gay.
The lord his lappet took, and led him to a seat,
Hailing him by his name, in guise of friendship meet,
Of all knights in the world was he most welcome there —
He thanked him, and the twain embrace with kisses fair,
And soberly they sit throughout the service high —
Then 't was the lady's will to see that knight with eye,
With many a maiden fair she cometh from her place,
Fairest was she in skin, in figure, and in face,
Of height and colour too, in every way so fair
That e'en Gaynore, the queen, might scarce with her compare.
She thro' the chancel came, to greet that hero good,
Led by another dame, who at her left hand stood;
Older she was, I trow, and reverend seemingly,
With goodly following of nobles, verily;
But all unlike to sight, I trow, those ladies were,
Yellow, the older dame, whereas the first was fair.
The cheeks of one were red, e'en as the rose doth glow,
The other, wrinkles rough, in plenty, did she shew.
The younger, kerchiefs soft, with many a pearl so white,
Ware, that her breast and throat full well displayed to sight,
Whiter they were than snow that on the hills doth lie —
The other's neck was veiled in gorget folded high,
That all her chin so black was swathed in milk-white folds;
Her forehead all, I ween, in silk was rapped and rolled,
Broidered it was full fair, adorned with knots enow,
Till naught of her was seen save the black bristly brow.
Her eyes, her nose, I ween, and eke her lips, were bare
And those were ill to see, so bleared and sour they were —
Meet mistress upon mold, so men might her declare
that tide —
Short and thick-set was she, '
Her hips were broad and wide,
And fairer far to see
The lady at her side.

When Gawain saw that dame, gracious of mien, and gay,
Leave from his host he craved, and t'wards her took his way;
The elder, bowing low, he fittingly doth greet,
Lightly within his arms he folds the lady sweet
Gives her a comely kiss, as fit from courteous knight;
She hailed him as her friend — a boon he prays forthright,
Her servant would he be, an so her will it were —
Betwixt the twain he walks, and, talking still, they fare
To hall, and e'en to hearth, and at the lord's command
Spices in plenty great are ready to their hand,
With wine that maketh gay at feast time, as is meet —
The lord, in laughing wise, he sprang unto his feet,
Bade them make mirth enow — all men his words must hear —
His hood he doffed from head, and hung it on a spear,
And quoth that that same man worship thereof should win
Who made the greatest mirth that Christmas-tide within:
'I'll fail not, by my faith, to frolic with the best,
Ere that my hood I lose — with help of every guest.'
And thus, with joyous jest the lord doth try withal
To gladden Sir Gawain with games in this his hall
that night;
Till that the torches' flare
He needs must bid them light,
Gawain must from them fare
And seek his couch forthright.

Then, on the morrow morn, when all men bear in mind
How our dear Lord was born to die for all mankind,
Joy in each dwelling dwells, I wot well, for His sake,
So did it there that day, when men High Feast would make;
For then, at every meal, messes, full richly dressed,
Men served upon the dais, with dainties of the best;
That ancient lady there doth fill the highest seat,
The castle's lord, I trow, beside her, as was meet.
Sir Gawain hath his place beside that lady gay
At midmost of the board, when meat was served alway.
And then, thro' all the hall, each one, as 'seemed him best,
Sat, each in his degree — fitly they served each guest,
Much meat had they and mirth, with joy and merry song,
Methinks to tell thereof would take me over-long
Altho' perchance I strove to tell that tale as meet —
I wot well that Gawain, and this, the lady sweet,
In their fair fellowship much comfort needs must find,
In the dear dalliance of words and glances kind,
And converse courteous, from all unfitness free —
Such pastime fitting were for prince in purity —
Sweet strain
Of trump and piping clear
And drum, doth sound amain;
Each doth his minstrel hear,
And even so the twain.

Much mirth they made that day, and e'en the morrow's mora
Nor slackened of the feast when the third day was born;
The joy of sweet Saint John, gentle it was to hear,
The folk, they deemed the feast fast to its end drew near;
(The guests must needs depart, e'en in the dawning grey)
Full early did they rise, and serve the wine straightway;
Danced carols merrily, so, blithe, the day they passed,
And when the hour waxed late they took their leave at last.
Each one to wend his way whenas the day should break —
Gawain would bid good-day — his hand the lord doth take
To his own chamber leads, and by the chimney wide,
To thank his guest full fain, he draweth him aside;
Thanks him for worship fair that he from him had won,
And for the honour high he to his house had done
By lending countenance unto this Christmas Feast —
'Of honours, while I live, I'll count this not the least
That Gawain this, my guest, at Christ's own Feast hath been ! ' —
'Gramercy,' quoth Gawain, 'In all good faith, I ween
The honour it is yours, and may Christ you repay,
I wait upon your word, to do your will alway
As I be bound thereto by night and e'en by day
of right — '
The lord, he was full fain
To keep with him the knight,
Then answered him Gawain
That he in no wise might.

The lord, he courteous prayed that he would tell him there
What deed of daring drove Gawain afar to fare
E'en at this time from court, and thus alone to wend,
Before this Holy Feast had come unto an end?
'In sooth, Sir,' quoth the knight, 'Ye speak the truth alway,
A hasty quest, and high, doth send me on my way,
For I myself must seek, and find, a certain place
And whitherward to wend I wot not, by God's grace!
Nor would I miss my tryst at New Year, by my soul,
For all the land of Logres! Christ help me to my goal!
Therefore Sir Host, I now require ye without fail
To tell me here in truth if ye e'er heard a tale
Told of a Chapel Green? Where such a place may be?
The knight who keepeth it, green too, I ween, is he;
We sware a forward fast, I trow, between us twain,
That I that man would meet, might I thereto attain,
And to that same New Year but few days now remain —
Now fainer far would I behold that self-same knight,
If so it were God's will, than any gladder sight;
Therefore with your good will, I needs must wend my way
Since I have, for my quest, but three bare days alway;
Fainer were I to die than fail in this my quest — '
Then, laughing, quoth the lord: 'Of needs must be my guest,
I'll shew to thee thy goal ere yet the term be o'er
That very Chapel Green — so vex thy soul no more,
Do thou in bed abide and take thine ease, I pray,
Until the fourth day dawn, with New Year go thy way
And thou shalt reach thy goal ere yet it be midday.
So, still,
To the New Year abide
Then rise, thy goal is near
Men shall thee thither guide,
'T is not two miles from here — '

Sir Gawain, he was glad, and laughed out gay and free,
'I thank ye, Sire, for this, o'er all your courtesie,
Achieved is this my quest, and I shall, at your will
Within your burg abide, and do your pleasure still.'
The lord, he took that knight, and set him at his side,
And bade the ladies come to cheer them at that tide,
Tho' they had, of themselves, fair solace, verily —
The host, for very joy, he jested merrily
As one for meed of mirth scarce wist what he might say. \
Then, turning to the knight, he cried on him alway:
'Didst swear to do the deed I should of thee request,
Now art thou ready here to hearken my behest?'
'Yea, Sire, forsooth am I,' so quoth that hero true
'While in your burg I bide, servant am I to you!'
'Now,' quoth the host, 'methinks, your travail sore hath been,
Here hast thou waked with me, nor had thy fill, I ween,
Of sustenance, or sleep, — an thou thine host wouldst please
Thou shalt lie long in bed, and, lingering, take thine ease
At morn, nor rise for mass, but eat as thou shalt say
E'en when thou wilt, my wife with thee a while shall stay
And solace thee with speech, till I my homeward way
have found,
For I betimes shall rise,
A-hunting am I bound.'
Gawain, this, his device
Doth grant him at that stound.

'First,' quoth the host, 'we'll make a forward fair and free,
Whate'er in wood I win the profit thine shall be,
What cheer thou shalt achieve, shalt give me, 'gainst my gain;
Now swear me here with truth to keep this 'twixt us twain
Whate'er our hap may be, or good or ill befall. — '
' By God,' quoth good Gawain, ' I grant ye this withal,
An such play pleaseth you, forsooth it pleaseth me — '
'Now, bring the beverage here, the bargain set shall be.'
So quoth the castle's lord, and each one laughed, I trow,
They drank and dallied there and dealt with sport enow,
Those lords and ladies fair, e'en as it liked them best,
And so, in friendship fair, with many a courteous jest,
They stood, and stayed awhile, and spake with softest speech,
Then kissed at parting, e'en as courtesy doth teach.
And then, with service fit, and many a torch alight,
Unto his bed at last they brought each gallant knight
again —
Yet ere their couch they sought
The cov'nant 'twixt the twain
The lord to memory brought,
For jesting was he fain.