English 2332 – Essay Test Two

Read these instructions carefully. You don’t get a second chance at completing this assignment.

Choose ONE of the questions below for your essay response. Develop a well-organized essay of at least 2-3 typed, double-spaced pages, using MLA formatting and documentation style. **You must supply direct quotes from the literature (course readings) to support your ideas. 

NO USE OF I, ME, WE, YOU – in your writing. This is an analysis, not a personal essay. 

Use the readings, the Dallas College Library Databases, (Literary Reference Center or Academic Search Complete) or Google Scholar for your research. You may use two additional research sources in addition to the reading assignments. List all sources used on a Works Cited page. 

Option #1:

From the literature we read, identify each type of conflict, and give an example from both Gawain and the Green Knight and The Canterbury Tales. Compare and contrast the types of conflict. Which type of conflict do you think is the most effective? Why?

Option #2:

Compare and contrast the use of humor in the two works: Gawain and the Green Knight and The Canterbury Tales.  How does the use of humor help to support the central theme of each? Does one author make better use of humor? Be sure to clearly state the central theme of each work and then discuss the role humor plays in supporting these themes. 

Option #3: 

Compare and contrast the use of violence in the two works: Gawain and the Green Knight and The Canterbury Tales. In what way does the use of violence further a central theme of each work. Does one author make better use of violence? Be sure to clearly state the central themes of each work and then discuss the role violence plays in supporting those themes. 

Option #4:

Compare and contrast the morality being promoted in the two works: Gawain and the Green Knight and The Canterbury Tales.  What are the two or three values being promoted in each work. Are the same values being promoted in both or are different values being promoted? How is the presentation of these values similar or different? Which author is more successful in promoting specific values? 

Note: Although this is an exam, it’s still an essay, and as such, you may use the OWL or visit the Academic Skills Center for tutorial support. Be sure to follow directions for in-person tutorial support. Dr. Forbess

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

• Author: Unknown

• The Pearl Poet

• Or The Gawain Poet

• Written in the late 14th Century

A Brief Summary

• Sir Gawain and the Green Knight (Middle English: Sir Gawayn and þe Grene
Knyȝt) is a late 14th-century Middle English chivalric romance.

• It is one of the best-known Arthurian stories, with its plot combining two
types of folk motifs, the beheading game and the exchange of winnings.

• Written in stanzas of alliterative verse, each of which ends in a rhyming bob
and wheel, (ABABA – five rhymed lines following a section of unrhymed
lines)

• The tale draws on Welsh, Irish and English stories, as well as the French
chivalric tradition.

• It is an important example of a chivalric romance, which typically involves a
hero who goes on a quest which tests his prowess.

• It remains popular in modern English renderings from J. R. R. Tolkien, and
others, as well as through film and stage adaptations.

A Brief Summary Continued

• The tale describes how Sir Gawain, a knight of King Arthur’s Round Table,
accepts a challenge from a mysterious “Green Knight” who dares any knight
to strike him with his axe if he will take a return blow in a year and a day.

• Gawain accepts and beheads him with his blow, at which the Green Knight
stands up, picks up his head and reminds Gawain of the appointed time.

• In his struggles to keep his bargain, Gawain demonstrates chivalry and
loyalty until his honor is called into question by a test involving Lady
Bertilak, the lady of the Green Knight’s castle.

• The poem survives in one manuscript, which also includes three religious
narrative poems: Pearl, Purity and Patience.

• All are thought to have been written by the same author, dubbed the “Pearl
Poet” or “Gawain Poet”, since all four are written in a North West Midland
dialect of Middle English

Genre: Romance

Elements of Romantic Literature:

• First, be cautioned—the word “romance” does not mean a love
story

• Adventure involving a knight on a quest

• Some fantasy and magic are present

• Both Christian and pagan elements

• Could be dragons and/or monsters

• Mysterious places

• Begins at a noble court

Romantic Hero

The Romantic Hero typically follows these criteria:

• Strict code of knightly conduct

• Absolute loyalty to his king

• Extremely generous

• Never breaks an oath

• Defends the helpless

Sub-Genre: The Testing Plot

A Testing Plot usually has…

• A strong main character

• Pushed to compromising high ideals

• Character wavers on making a decision because there is not an easy
choice to be made
• The decision usually looks like choosing between the “wrong thing” to do or

loosing money or social position

Sir Gawain and the
Green Knight in
Middle English • Wel gay watz þis gome gered in grene,And þe here of his hed of his hors swete.

Fayre fannand fax vmbefoldes his schulderes;
A much berd as a busk ouer his brest henges,
Þat wyth his hi3lich here þat of his hed reches
Watz euesed al vmbetorne abof his elbowes,
Þat half his armes þer-vnder were halched in þe wyse
Of a kyngez capados þat closes his swyre;
Þe mane of þat mayn hors much to hit lyke,
Wel cresped and cemmed, wyth knottes ful mony
Folden in wyth fildore aboute þe fayre grene,
Ay a herle of þe here, an oþer of golde;
Þe tayl and his toppyng twynnen of a sute,
And bounden boþe wyth a bande of a bry3t grene,
Dubbed wyth ful dere stonez, as þe dok lasted,
Syþen þrawen wyth a þwong a þwarle knot alofte,
Þer mony bellez ful bry3t of brende golde rungen.
Such a fole vpon folde, ne freke þat hym rydes,
Watz neuer sene in þat sale wyth sy3t er þat tyme,
with y3e.
He loked as layt so ly3t,
So sayd al þat hym sy3e;
Hit semed as no mon my3t
Vnder his dynttez dry3e.

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight in Middle
English

Click on the link to listen to the opening lines
of Sir Gawain spoken in Middle English

https://youtu.be/-nAd6fffVvs

Arthurian Romance/Courtly Love

• There is no solid evidence for/against
the reign of a historic “King Arthur.”

• Some historians suggest Arthur was a
Roman military leader who held power
anywhere from 3rd to 7th century A.D.
(Artorius = “plowman”)

• Arthur is more important for the
legends that developed around him
and his “Knights of the Round Table”

• Statue of King Arthur from around 1400AD

Arthurian Romance/Courtly Love
Continued

• Arthur traditionally credited with uniting all England (i.e. uniting
the pagan tribes) and therefore creating the potential for the
development of a unique British character after the Norman
invasion of England.

• Arthurian legends reach height in/around 12th century A.D.

Chivalric Tradition

• Even more importantly, it is around
the legendary King Arthur that the
chivalric tradition of the middle ages
developed.

• Chivalry – from the French word
cheval or “horse” – refers to the code
of behavior that was expected of
knights (all noblemen).

• This tradition was also called
courtesie (also French), meaning “the
behavior of the court.”

Chivalry

• “Chivalry” comes from the French cheval, or horse (n.b. Norman
influence in language).

• Only the wealthiest people in medieval society could keep
horses and afford to use them in combat.

• “Chivalry” became associated, therefore, with the qualities of
“horsemen”, or knights.

• related words: cavalier (Fr., L.), cavalry (from L. caval), caballero
(Sp.)

Arthurian Tradition

• In Arthurian tradition, the “Knights of the Round Table”

• Lancelot,

• Galahad,

• Gawain

• Embodied – both individually and en masse, the characteristics of
courtesie or “courtly love.”

Characteristics of Courtly Behavior

• Respect the king. Do nothing to bring him dishonor.

• Respect women. Do nothing to bring dishonor to any woman.

• Protect the poor and the weak.

• Honor God as a faithful Christian.

Examples of the Code of Chivalry

• Thou shalt defend the Church.

• Thou shalt respect all weaknesses, and shalt constitute thyself
the defender of them.

• Live to serve King and Country.

• Live to defend Crown and Country and all it holds dear.

• Live one’s life so that it is worthy of respect and honor.

• Live for freedom, justice and all that is good.

• Never attack an unarmed foe.

Medieval Alliterative Verse

• Like all other examples of literature we’ve read thus far, Sir
Gawain and the Green Knight almost certainly began as an oral
history carried from village-to-village by a bard – or singing
storyteller.

• Like the Iliad and Beowulf, therefore, Sir Gawain and the Green
Knight is marked by meter, rhyme, and (as with Beowulf)
alliteration.

• All these poetic devices were intended to help in the oral
retelling of the story.

Why is it called Alliterative Verse?

• VERSE FORM: the “Gawain stanza”–a varying number of
alliterative long lines terminated by a “bob & wheel,” five short
rhyming lines (ababa).

Alliterative Verse
• He was a fine fellow fitted in green —

And the hair on his head and his horse’s matched.
It fanned out freely enfolding his shoulders,
and his beard hung below as big as a bush,
all mixed with the marvelous mane on his head,
which was cut off in curls cascading to his elbows,
wrapping round the rest of him
like a king’s cape clasped to his neck.
And the mane of his mount was much the same,
but curled up and combed in crisp knots,
in braids of bright gold thread and brilliant green
criss-crossed hair by hair.
And the tossing tail was twin to the mane,
for both were bound with bright green ribbons,
strung to the end with long strands of precious stones,
and turned back tight in a twisted knot
bright with tinkling bells of burnished gold.
No such horse on hoof had been seen in that hall,
nor horseman half so strange as their eyes now held
in sight. A

He looked a lightning flash,B
they say: he seemed so bright;A
and who would dare to clash B
in melee with such might?A

As Epic Poetry

Review: Characteristics of the Epic Hero

1. He is a model of faith, loyalty, or bravery…

2. who makes a long, difficult journey…

3. to do battle on behalf of another…

4. perhaps using his own superhuman
talents…

5. against an enemy who may himself
have or be guarded by supernatural powers.

As Epic Poetry Continued

Review: Characteristics of the Epic Poem

1. An epic poem is a long, highly-stylized narrative poem…

2. that recounts the exploits of its main character – the epic
hero.

3. Because most epic poetry originated as sung or spoken
verse, it is rigidly metered and rhymed

Journey or Quest

• In medieval poetry, the epic hero’s journey to battle (like
Achilles’ voyage to Troy or Beowulf’s to Dane-land) becomes a
quest.

• A quest is “an adventurous expedition in search of something
spiritually fulfilling or self-enhancing.”

Conventions of Medieval Romance

Medieval Romances:
• Often have unprovoked and violent fighting!

• Are set in a mystical place and time (the Dark Ages)

• Present supernatural elements, and magical powers from the pagan
world

• Have a hero who is on a noble adventure or quest

• Have a loose, episode-like structure

• Include elements of courtly love

• Embody ideals of chivalry

• Time frame of a year and a day

The Idea of Courtly Love

• This relationship was modeled on the feudal relationship
between a knight and his liege lord.

• The knight serves his courtly lady with the same obedience and
loyalty which he owes to his liege lord.

• She is in complete control; he owes her obedience and
submission.

• The knight’s love for the lady inspires him to do great
deeds, in order to be worthy of her love or to win her favor.

The Idea of Courtly Love Continued

• “Courtly love” was not between husband and wife because it was an
idealized sort of relationship that could not exist within the context of
“real life” medieval marriages.

• In the middle ages, marriages amongst the nobility were typically
based on practical and dynastic concerns rather than on love.

• “Courtly love” provided a model of behavior for a class of unmarried
young men who might otherwise have threatened social stability.

• Knights were typically younger brothers without land of their own
(hence unable to support a wife).

• They became members of the household of the feudal lords whom
they served.

More on the Idea of Courtly Love

The lady is typically older, married, and of higher social status than
the knight because she was modeled on the wife of the feudal
lord, who might naturally become the focus of the young,
unmarried knights’ desire.

The literary model of courtly love may have been invented to
provide young men with a model for appropriate behavior.

It taught bored young knights to control their baser desires and to
channel their energy into socially useful behavior (love service
rather than wandering around the countryside, stealing or raping
women).

Still More on the Idea of Courtly Love

The “symptoms” of love were described as if it were a sickness.

The “lovesick” knight’s typical symptoms: sighing, turning pale,
turning red, fever, inability to sleep, eat, or drink.

What’s Next?

Review the instructional
materials for Sir Gawain and
the Green Knight: The
Literature

1

Sir Gawain

and the

Green Knight

Translated by JRR Tolkien

2

Table of Contents

Part 1 ………………..

3

Part 2 ………………. 1

4

Part 3 ………………. 2

8

Part 4 …….…………

48

Appendix …………..

61

Genesis 3 …….. 61

Judges 16 …….

62

2 Samuel 11 …

64

1 Kings 11 …… 6

5

References ………. 6

6

3

Part I

1. When the siege and the assault had ceased at Troy,

and the fortress fell in flame to firebrands and ashes,

the traitor who the contrivance of treason there fashioned

was tried for his treachery, the most true upon earth –

it was Æneas the noble and his renowned kindred 5

who then laid under them lands, and lords became

of well-nigh all the wealth in the Western Isles.

When royal Romulus to Rome his road had taken,

in great pomp and pride. He peopled it first,

and named it with his own name that yet now it bears;

10

Tirius went to Tuscany and towns founded,

Langaberde in Lombardy uplifted halls,

and far over the French flood Felix Brutus

on many a broad bank and brae Britain established

full fair

15

where strange things, strife and sadness

,

at whiles in the land did fare,

and each other grief and gladness

oft fast have followed there.

2. And when fair Britain was founded by this famous lord,

20

bold men were bred there who in battle rejoiced,

and many a time that betide they troubles aroused.

In this domain more marvels have by men been seen

than in any other that I know of since that olden time;

but of all that here abode in Britain as kings

25

ever was Arthur most honored, as I have heard men tell.

Wherefore a marvel among men I mean to recall,

a sight strange to see some men have held it,

one of the wildest adventures of the wonders of Arthur.

If you will listen to this lay but a little while now,

30

I will tell it at once as in town I have heard

it told,

as it is fixed and fettered

in story brave and bold,

thus linked and truly lettered,

35

as was loved in this land of old.

3. This king lay at Camelot at Christmas-tide

with many a lovely lord, lieges most noble,

indeed of the Table Round all those tried brethren,

amid merriment unmatched and mirth without care.

40

There tourneyed many a time the trusty knights,

and jousted full joyously these gentle lords;
then to the court they came at carols to play.

4

For there the feast was unfailing full fifteen days,

with all meats and all mirth that men could devise,

45

such gladness and gaiety as was glorious to hear,

din of voices by day, and dancing by night;

all happiness at the highest in halls and in bowers

had the lords and the ladies, such as they loved most dearly.

With all the bliss of this world they abode together,

50

the knights most renowned after the name of Christ,

and the ladies most lovely that ever life enjoyed,

and he, king most courteous, who that court possessed.

For all that folk so fair did in their first estate

abide,

55

Under heaven the first in fame,

their king most high in pride;

it would now be hard to name

a troop in war so tried.

4. While New Year was yet young that yester-eve had arrived,

60

that day double dainties on the dais were served,

when the king was there come with his courtiers to the hall,

and the chanting of the choir in the chapel had ended.

With loud clamor and cries both clerks and laymen

Noel announced anew, and named it full often;

65

then nobles ran anon with New Year gifts,

Handsels, handsels they shouted, and handed them out,

Competed for those presents in playful debate;

ladies laughed loudly, though they lost the game,

and he that won was not woeful, as may well be believed. 70

All this merriment they made, till their meat was served;

then they washed, and mannerly went to their seats,

ever the highest for the worthiest, as was held to be best.

Queen Guinevere the gay was with grace in the midst

of the adorned dais set. Dearly was it arrayed: 75

finest sandal
1
at her sides, a ceiling above her

of true tissue of Tolouse, and tapestries of Tharsia

that were embroidered and bound with the brightest gems

one might prove and appraise to purchase for coin

any day. 80

That loveliest lady there

on them glanced with eyes of grey;

that he found ever one more fair

in sooth might no man say.

1
sandal: silk

5

5. But Arthur would not eat until all were served; 85

his youth made him so merry with the moods of a boy,

he liked lighthearted life, so loved he the less

either long to be lying or long to be seated:

so worked on him his young blood and wayward brain.

And another rule moreover was his reason besides 90

that in pride he had appointed: it pleased him not to eat

upon festival so fair, ere he first were apprised

of some strange story or stirring adventure,

or some moving marvel that he might believe in

of noble men, knighthood, or new adventures; 95

or a challenger should come a champion seeking

to join with him in jousting, in jeopardy to set

his life against life, each allowing the other

the favor of fortune, were she fairer to him.

This was the king’s custom, wherever his court was holden, 100

at each famous feast among his fair company

in hall.

So his face doth proud appear,

and he stands up stout and tall,

all young in the New Year; 105

much mirth he makes with all.

6. Thus there stands up straight the stern king himself,

talking before the high table of trifles courtly.

There good Gawain was set at Guinevere’s side,

with Agravain a la Dure Main on the other side seated, 110

both their lord’s sister-sons, loyal-hearted knights.

Bishop Baldwin had the honor of the board’s service,

and Iwain Urien’s son ate beside him.

These dined on the dais and daintily fared,

and many a loyal lord below at the long tables. 115

Then forth came the first course with fanfare of trumpets,

on which many bright banners bravely were hanging;

noise of drums then anew and the noble pipes,

warbling wild and keen, wakened their music,

so that many hearts rose high hearing their playing. 120

Then forth was brought a feast, fare of the noblest,

multitude of fresh meats on so many dishes

that free places were few in front of the people

to set the silver things full of soups on cloth

so white. 125

Each lord of his liking there

without lack took with delight:

twelve plates to every pair,

good beer and wine all bright.

6

7. Now of their service I will say nothing more, 130

for you are all well aware that no want would there be.

Another noise that was new drew near on a sudden,

so that their lord might have leave at last to take food.

For hardly had the music but a moment ended,

and the first course in the court as was custom been served, 135

when there passed through the portals a perilous horseman,

the mightiest on middle-earth in measure of height,

from his gorge to his girdle so great and so square,

and his loins and his limbs so long and so huge,

that half a troll upon earth I trow
2
that he was, 140

but the largest man alive at least I declare him;

and yet the seemliest for his size that could sit on a horse,

for though in back and in breast his body was grim,

both his paunch and his waist were properly slight,

and all his features followed his fashion so gay 145

in mode:

for at the hue men gaped aghast

in his face and form that showed;

as a fay-man fell he passed,

and green all over glowed. 150

8. All of green were they made, both garments and man:

a coat tight and close that clung to his sides;

a rich robe above it all arrayed within

with fur finely trimmed, showing fair fringes

of handsome ermine gay, as his hood was also, 155

that was lifted from his locks and laid on his shoulders;

and trim hose tight-drawn of tincture alike

that clung to his calves; and clear spurs below

of bright gold on silk broideries banded most richly,

though unshod were his shanks, for shoeless he rode. 160

And verily all this vesture was of verdure clear,

both the bars on his belt, and bright stones besides

that were richly arranged in his array so fair,

set on himself and on his saddle upon silk fabrics:

it would be too hard to rehearse one half of the trifles 165

that were embroidered upon them, what with birds and with flies

in a gay glory of green, and ever gold in the midst.

The pendants of his poitrel,
3
his proud crupper,

his molains,
4
and all the metal to say more, were enameled,

even the stirrups that he stood in were stained of the same; 170

2
trow: believe

3
poitrel: horsey breastplate

4
molains: bridle and bit

7

and his saddlebows in suit, and their sumptuous skirts,

which ever glimmered and glinted all with green jewels;

even the horse that upheld him in hue was the same,

I tell:

a green horse great and thick, 175

a stallion stiff to quell,

in broidered bridle quick:

he matched his master well.

9. Very gay was this great man guised all in green,

and the hair of his head with his horse’s accorded: 180

fair flapping locks enfolding his shoulders,

a big beard like a bush over his breast hanging

that with the handsome hair from his head falling

was sharp shorn to an edge just short of his elbows,

so that half his arms under it were hid, as it were 185

in a king’s capadoce
5
that encloses his neck.

The name of that mighty horse was of much the same sort,

well curled and all combed, with many curious knots

woven in with gold wire about the wondrous green,

ever a strand of the hair and a string of the gold; 190

the tail and the top-lock were twined all to match

and both bound with a band of a brilliant green:

with dear jewels bedight to the dock’s ending,

and twisted then on top was a tight-knotted knot

on which many burnished bells of bright gold jingled. 195

Such a mount on middle-earth, or man to ride him,

was never beheld in that hall with eyes ere that time;

for there

his glance was as lightning bright,

so did all that saw him swear; 200

no man would have the might,

they thought, his elbows to bear.

10. And yet he had not a helm, nor a hauberk either,

not a pisane,
6
not a plate that was proper to arms;

not a shield, not a shaft, for shock or for blow, 205

but in his one hand he held a holly-bundle,

that is greatest in greenery when groves are leafless,

and an axe in the other, ugly and monstrous,

a ruthless weapon aright for one in rhyme to describe:

the head was as large and as long as an ellwand,
7
210

a branch of green steel and of beaten gold;

5
capadoce: head piece

6
pisane: upper breastplate

7
ellwand: unit of measurement equal to 5/8 yd

8

the bit, burnished bright and broad at the edge,

as well shaped for shearing as sharp razors;

the stem was a stout staff, by which sternly he gripped it,

all bound with iron about to the base of the handle, 215

and engraven in green in graceful patterns,

lapped round with a lanyard that was lashed to the head

and down the length of the haft was looped many times;

and tassels of price were tied there in plenty

to bosses of the bright green, braided most richly. 220

Such was he that now hastened in, the hall entering,

pressing forward to the dais – no peril he feared.

To none gave he greeting, gazing above them,

and the first word that he winged: ‘Now where is’, he said,

‘the governor of this gathering? For gladly I would 225

on the same set my sight, and with himself now talk

in town.’

On the courtiers he cast his eye,

and rolled it up and down;

he stopped, and stared to espy 230

who there had most renown.

11. Then they looked for a long while, on that lord gazing;

for every man marveled what it could mean indeed

that horseman and horse such a hue should come by

as to grow green as the grass, and greener it seemed, 235

than green enamel on gold glowing far brighter.

All stared that stood there and stole up nearer,

watching him and wondering what in the world he would do.

For many marvels they had seen, but to match this nothing;

wherefore a phantom and fay-magic folk there thought it, 240

and so to answer little eager was any of those knights,

and astounded at his stern voice stone-still they sat there

in a swooning silence through that solemn chamber,

as if all had dropped into a dream, so died their voices

away. 245

Not only, I deem, for dread;

but of some ‘twas their courtly way

to allow their lord and head

to the guest his word to say.

12. Then Arthur before the high dais beheld this wonder, 250

and freely with fair words, for fearless was he ever,

saluted him, saying: ‘Lord, to this lodging thou’rt welcome!

The head of this household Arthur my name is.

Alight, as thou lovest me, and linger, pray thee;

and what may thy wish be in a while we shall learn.’ 255

‘Nay, so help me,’ quoth the horseman, ‘He that on high is throned,

9

to pass any time in this place was no part of my errand.

But since thy praises, prince, so proud are uplifted,

and thy castle and courtiers are accounted the best,

the stoutest in steel-gear that on steeds may ride, 260

most eager and honorable of the earth’s people,

valiant to vie with in other virtuous sports,

and here is knighthood renowned, as is noised in my ears:

‘tis that has fetched me hither, by my faith, at this time.

You may believe by this branch that I am bearing here 265

that I pass as one in peace, no peril seeking.

For had I set forth to fight in fashion of war,

I have a hauberk at home, and a helm also,

A shield, and a sharp spear shining brightly,

and other weapons to wield too, as well I believe; 270

but since I crave for no combat, my clothes are softer.

Yet if thou be so bold, as abroad is published,

thou wilt grant of thy goodness the game that I ask for

by right.’

Then Arthur answered there, 275

and said: ‘Sir, noble knight,

if battle thou seek thus bare,

thou’lt fail not here to fight.’

13. ‘Nay, I wish for no warfare, on my word I tell thee!

Here about on these benches are but beardless children. 280

Were I hasped in armor on a high charger,

there is no man here to match me – their might is so feeble.

And so I crave in this court only a Christmas pastime,

since it is Yule and New Year, and you are young here and merry.

If any so hardy in this house here holds that he is, 285

if so bold be his blood or his brain be so wild,

that he stoutly dare strike one stroke for another,

then I will give him as my gift this guisarme
8
costly,

this axe – ‘tis heavy enough – to handle as he pleases;

and I will abide the first brunt, here bare as I sit. 290

If any fellow be so fierce as my faith to test,

hither let him haste to me and lay hold of this weapon –

I hand it over for ever, he can have it as his own –

and I will stand a stroke from him, stock-still on this floor,

provided thou’lt lay down this law: that I may deliver him another.

Claim I!

And yet a respite I’ll allow,

till a year and a day go by.

Come quick, and let’s see now

if any here dare reply!’ 300

8
guisarme: weapon

10

14. If he astounded them at first, yet stiller were then

and all the household in the hall, both high men and low.

The man on his mount moved in his saddle,

and rudely his red eyes he rolled then about,

bent his bristling brows all brilliantly green, 305

and swept round his beard to see who would rise.

When none in converse would accost him, he coughed then loudly,

stretched himself haughtily and straightway exclaimed:

‘What! Is this Arthur’s house,’ said he thereupon,

‘the rumor of which runs through realms unnumbered? 310

Where now is your haughtiness, and your high conquests,

your fierceness and fell mood, and your fine boasting?

Now are the revels and the royalty of the Round Table

overwhelmed by a word by one man spoken,

for all blench now abashed ere a blow is offered!’ 315

With that he laughed so loud that their lord was angered,

the blood shot for shame into his shining cheeks

and face;

as wroth as wind he grew,

so all did in that place. 320

Then near to the stout man drew

the king of fearless race,

15. And said: ‘Marry! Good man, ‘tis madness thou askest,

and since folly thou hast sought, thou deservedst to find it.

I know no lord that is alarmed by thy loud words here. 325

Give me now thy guisarme, in God’s name, sir,

and I will bring thee the blessing thou hast begged to receive.’

Quick then he came to him and caught it from his hand.

Then the lordly man loftily alighted on foot.

Now Arthur holds his axe, and the haft grasping 330

sternly he stirs it about, his stroke considering.

The stout man before him there stood his full height,

higher than any in that house by a head and yet more.

With stern face as he stood he stroked at his beard,

and with expression impassive he pulled down his coat, 335

no more disturbed or distressed at the strength of his blows

than if someone as he sat had served him a drink

of wine.

From beside the queen Gawain

to the king did then incline: 340

‘I implore with prayer plain

that this match should now be mine.’

16. ‘Would you, my worthy lord,’ said Gawain to the king,

‘bid me abandon this bench and stand by you there,

so that I without discourtesy might be excused from the table, 345

11

and my liege lady were not loth to permit me,

I would come to your counsel before your courtiers fair.

For I find it unfitting, as in fact it is held,

when a challenge in your chamber makes choice so exalted,

though you yourself be desirous to accept it in person, 350

while many bold men about you on bench are seated:

on earth there are, I hold, none more honest of purpose,

no figures fairer on field where fighting is waged.

I am the weakest, I am aware, and in wit feeblest,

and the least loss, if I live not, if one would learn the truth. 355

Only because you are my uncle is honor given me:

save your blood in my body I boast of no virtue;

and since this affair is so foolish that it nowise befits you,

and I have requested it first, accord it then to me!

If my claim is uncalled-for without cavil shall judge 360

this court.’

To consult the knights draw near,

and this plan they all support;

the king with crown to clear,

and give Gawain the sport. 365

17. The king then commanded that he quickly should rise,

and he readily uprose and directly approached,

kneeling humbly before his highness, and laying hand on the weapon;

and he lovingly relinquished it, and lifting his hand

gave him God’s blessing, and graciously enjoined him 370

that his hand and his heart should be hardy alike.

‘Take care, cousin,’ quoth the king, ‘one cut to address,

and if thou learnest him his lesson, I believe very well

that thou wilt bear any blow that he gives back later.’

Gawain goes to the great man with guisarme in hand, 375

and he boldly abides there – he blenched not at all.

Then next said to Gawain the knight all in green:

‘Let’s tell again our agreement, ere we go any further.

I’d know first, sir knight, thy name; I entreat thee

to tell it me truly, that I may trust in thy word.’ 380

‘In good faith,’ quoth the good knight, ‘I Gawain am called

who bring thee this buffet, let be what may follow;

and at this time a twelvemonth in thy turn have another

with whatever weapon thou wilt, and in the world with none else

but me.’ 385

The other man answered again:

‘I am passing pleased,’ said he,

‘upon my life, Sir Gawain,

that this stroke should be struck by thee.’

12

18. ‘Begad,’
9
said the green knight, ‘Sir Gawain, I am pleased

to find from thy fist the favor I asked for!

And thou hast promptly repeated and plainly hast stated

without abatement the bargain I begged of the king here;

save that thou must assure me, sir, on thy honor

that thou’lt seek me thyself, search where thou thinkest 395

I may be found near or far, and fetch thee such payment

as thou deliverest me today before these lordly people.’

‘Where should I light on thee,’ quoth Gawain, ‘where look for thy place?

I have never learned where thou livest, by the Lord that made me,

and I know thee not, knight, thy name nor thy court. 400

But teach me the true way, and tell me what men call thee,

and I will apply all my purpose the path to discover;

and that I swear thee for certain and solemnly promise.’

‘That is enough in New Year, there is need of no more!’

said the great man in green to Gawain the courtly. 405

‘If I tell thee the truth of it, when I have taken the knock,

and thou handily hast hit me, if in haste I announce then

my house and my home and mine own title,

then thou canst call and enquire and keep the agreement;

and if I waste not a word, thou’lt win better fortune, 410

for thou mayst linger in thy land and look no further –

but stay!

To thy grim tool now take heed, sir!

Let us try thy knocks today!’

‘Gladly,’ said he, ‘indeed, sir!’ 415

and his axe he stroked in play.

19. The Green Knight on the ground now gets himself ready,

leaning a little with the head he lays bare the flesh,

and his locks long and lovely he lifts over his crown,

letting the naked neck as was needed appear. 420

His left foot on the floor before him placing,

Gawain gripped on his axe, gathered and raised it,

from aloft let it swiftly land where ‘twas naked,

so that the sharp of his blade shivered the bones,

and sank clean through the clear fat and clove it asunder, 425

and the blade of the bright steel then bit into the ground.

The fair head to the floor fell from the shoulders,

and folk fended it with their feet as forth it went rolling;

the blood burst from the body, bright on the greenness,

and yet neither faltered nor fell the fierce man at all, 430

but stoutly he strode forth, still strong on his shanks,

and roughly he reached out among the rows that stood there,

caught up his comely head and quickly upraised it,

9
Begad: gasp!

13

and then hastened to his horse, laid hold of the bridle,

stepped into stirrup-iron, and strode up aloft, 435

his head by the hair in his hand holding;

and he settled himself then in the saddle as firmly

as if unharmed by mishap, though in the hall he might wear

no head.

His trunk he twisted round, 440

that gruesome body that bled,

and many fear then found,

as soon as his speech was sped.

20. For the head in his hand he held it up straight,

towards the fairest at the table he twisted the face, 445

and it lifted up its eyelids and looked at them broadly,

and made such words with its mouth as may be recounted.

‘See thou get ready, Gawain, to go as thou vowedst,

and as faithfully seek till thou find me, good sir,

as thou hast promised in this place in the presence of these knights.

To the Green Chapel go thou, and get thee, I charge thee,

such a dint as thou hast dealt – indeed thou hast earned

a nimble knock in return on New Year’s morning!

The Knight of the Green Chapel I am known to many,

so if to find me thou endeavor, thou’lt fail not to do so. 455

Therefore come! Or to be called a craven thou deservest.’

With a rude roar and rush his reins he turned then,

and hastened out through the hall-door with his head in his hand,

and fire of the flint flew from the feet of his charger.

To what country he came in that court no man knew, 460

no more than they had learned from what land he had journeyed.

Meanwhile,

the king and Sir Gawain

at the Green Man laugh and smile;

yet to men had appeared, ‘twas plain, 465

a marvel beyond denial.

21. Though Arthur the high king in his heart marveled,

he let no sign of it be seen, but said then aloud

to the queen so comely with courteous words:

‘Dear Lady, today be not downcast at all! 470

Such cunning play well becomes the Christmas tide,

interludes, and the like, and laughter and singing,

amid these noble dances of knights and of dames.

Nonetheless to my food I may fairly betake me,

for a marvel I have met, and I may not deny it.’ 475

He glanced at Sir Gawain and with good point he said:

‘Come, hang up thine axe, sir! It has hewn now enough.’

14

And over the table they hung it on the tapestry behind,

where all men might remark it, a marvel to see,

and by its true token might tell of that adventure. 480

Then to a table they turned, those two lords together,

the king and his good kinsman, and courtly men served them

with all dainties double, the dearest there might be,

with all manner of meats and with minstrelsy too.

With delight that day they led, till to the land came the 485

night again.

Sir Gawain, now take heed

lest fear make thee refrain

from daring the dangerous deed

that thou in hand hast ta’en! 490

Part II

22. With this earnest of high deeds thus Arthur began

the young year, for brave vows he yearned to hear made.

Though such words were wanting when they went to table,

now of fell work to full grasp filled were their hands.

Gawain was gay as he began those games in the hall, 495

but if the end be unhappy, hold it no wonder!

For though men be merry of mood when they have mightily drunk,

a year slips by swiftly, never the same returning;

the outset to the ending is equal but seldom.

And so this Yule passed over and the year after, 500

and severally the seasons ensued in their turn:

after Christmas there came the crabbed Lenten

that with fish tries the flesh and with food more meager;

but then the weather in the world makes war on the winter,

cold creeps into the earth, clouds are uplifted, 505

shining rain is shed in showers that all warm

fall on the fair turf, flowers there open,

of grounds and of groves green is the raiment,

birds are busy a-building and bravely are singing

for the sweetness of the soft summer that will soon be on 510

the way;

and blossoms burgeon and blow

in hedgerows bright and gay;

then glorious musics go

through the woods in proud array. 515

23. After the season of summer with its soft breezes,

when Zephyr goes sighing through seeds and herbs,

right glad is the grass that grows in the open,

when the damp dewdrops are dripping from the leaves

15

to greet a gay glance of the glistening sun. 520

But when Harvest hurries in, and hardens it quickly,

warns it before winter to wax to ripeness.

He drives with his drought the dust, till it rises

from the face of the land and flies up aloft;

wild wind in the welkin makes war on the sun, 525

the leaves loosed from the linden alight on the ground,

and all grey is the grass that green was before:

all things ripen and rot that rose up at first,

and so the year runs away in yesterdays many,

and here winter wends again, as by the way of the world 530

it ought,

until the Michaelmas moon

has winter’s boding brought;

Sir Gawain then full soon

of his grievous journey thought. 535

24. And yet till All Hallows with Arthur he lingered,

who furnished on that festival a feast for the knight

with much royal revelry of the Round Table.

The knights of renown and noble ladies

all for the love of that lord had longing at heart, 540

but nevertheless the more lightly of laughter they spoke:

many were joyless who jested for his gentle sake.

For after their meal mournfully he reminded his uncle

that his departure was near, and plainly he said:

‘Now liege-lord of my life, for leave I beg you. 545

You know the quest and the compact; I care not further

to trouble you with tale of it, save a trifling point:

I must set forth to my fate without fail in the morning,

as God will me guide, the Green Man to seek.’

Those most accounted in the castle came then together, 550

Iwain and Erric and others not a few,

Sir Doddinel le Savage, the Duke of the Clarence,

Lancelot, and Lionel, and Lucan the Good,

Sir Bors and Sir Bedivere that were both men of might,

and many others of mark with Mador de la Porte. 555

All this company of the court the king now approached

to comfort the knight with care in their hearts.

Much mournful lament was made in the hall

that one so worthy as Gawain should wend on that errand,

To endure a deadly dint and deal no more 560

with blade.

The knight ever made good cheer,

saying, ‘Why should I be dismayed?

Of doom the fair or drear

by a man must be assayed.’ 565

16

25. He remained there that day, and in the morning got ready,

asked early for his arms, and they all were brought him.

First a carpet of red silk was arrayed on the floor,

and the gilded gear in plenty there glittered upon it.

The stern man stepped thereon and the steel things handled, 570

dressed in a doublet of damask of Tharsia,

and over it a cunning capadoce
10

that was closed at the throat

and with fair ermine was furred all within.

Then sabatons
11

first hey set on his feet,

his legs lapped in steel in his lordly greaves, 575

on which the polains
12

they placed, polished and shining

and knit upon his knees with knots all of gold;

then the comely cuisses
13

that cunningly clasped

the thick thews of his thighs they with thongs on him tied;

and next the byrnie,
14

woven of bright steel rings 580

upon costly quilting, enclosed him about;

and armlets well burnished upon both of his arms,

with gay elbow-pieces and gloves of plate,

and all the goodly gear to guard him whatever

betide; 585

coat-armor richly made,

gold spurs on heel in pride;

girt with a trusty blade,

silk belt about his side.

26. When he was hasped in his armor his harness was splendid: 590

the least latchet or loop was all lit with gold.

Thus harnessed as he was he heard now his Mass,

that was offered and honored at the high altar;

and then he came to the king and his court-companions,

and with love he took leave of lords and of ladies; 595

and they kissed him and escorted him, and to Christ him commended.

And now Gringolet stood groomed, and girt with a saddle

gleaming right gaily with many gold fringes,

and all newly for the nonce nailed at all points;

adorned with bars was the bridle, with bright gold banded; 600

the appareling proud of poitrel
15

and of skirts,

and the crupper and caparison accorded with the saddlebows:

all was arrayed in red with rich gold studded,

so that it glittered and glinted as a gleam of the sun.

Then he in hand took the helm and in haste kissed it: 605

10

capadoce: head piece (again…)
11

sabatons: foot armor
12

polains: knee armor
13

cuisses: thigh armor
14

byrnie: mail shirt
15

poitrel: horsey breastplate (again…)

17

strongly was it stapled and stuffed within;

it sat high upon his head and was hasped at the back,

and a light kerchief was laid o’er the beaver,

all braided and bound with the brightest gems

upon broad silken broidery, with birds on the seams 610

like popinjays depainted, here preening and there,

turtles and true-loves, entwined as thickly

as if many seamstresses had the sewing full seven winters

in hand.

A circlet of greater price 615

his crown about did band;

The diamonds point-device

there blazing bright did stand.

27. Then they brought him his blazon that was of brilliant gules

with the pentangle depicted in pure hue of gold. 620

By the baldric he caught it and about his neck cast it:

right well and worthily it went with the knight.

And why the pentangle is proper to that prince so noble

I intend now to tell you, though it may tarry my story.

It is a sign that Solomon once set on a time 625

to betoken Troth, as it is entitled to do;

for it is a figure that in it five points holdeth,

and each line overlaps and is linked with another,

and every way it is endless; and the English, I hear,

everywhere name it the Endless Knot. 630

So it suits well this knight and his unsullied arms;

for ever faithful in five points, and five times under each,

Gawain as good was acknowledged and as gold refinéd,

devoid of every vice and with virtues adorned.

So there 635

the pentangle painted new

he on shield and coat did wear,

as one of word most true

and knight of bearing fair.

28. First faultless was he found in his five senses, 640

and next in the five fingers he failed at no time,

and firmly on the Five Wounds all his faith was set

that Christ received on the cross, as the Creed tells us;

and wherever the brave man into battle was come,

on this beyond all things was his earnest thought: 645

that ever from the Five Joys all his valor he gained

that to Heaven’s courteous Queen once came from her Child.

For which cause the knight had in comely wise

on the inner side of his shield her image depainted,

18

that when he cast his eyes thither his courage never failed. 650

The fifth five that was used, as I find, by this knight

was free-giving and friendliness first before all,

and chastity and chivalry ever changeless and straight,

and piety surpassing all points: these perfect five

were hasped upon him harder than on any man else. 655

Now these five series, in sooth, were fastened on this knight,

and each was knit with another and had no ending,

but were fixed at five points that failed not at all,

coincided in no line nor sundered either,

not ending in any angle anywhere, as I discover, 660

wherever the process was put in play or passed to an end.

Therefore on his shining shield was shaped now this knot,

royally with red gules upon red gold set:

this is the pure pentangle as people of learning

have taught. 665

Now Gawain in brave array

his lance at last hath caught.

He gave them all good day,

for evermore as he thought.

29. He spurned his steed with the spurs and sprang on his way 670

so fiercely that the flint-sparks flashed out behind him.

All who beheld him so honorable in their hearts were sighing,

and assenting in sooth one said to another,

grieving for that good man: ‘Before God, ‘tis a shame

that thou, lord, must be lost, who art in life so noble! 675

To meet his match among men, Marry, ‘tis not easy!

To behave with more heed would have behooved one of sense,

and that dear lord duly a duke to have made,

illustrious leader of liegemen in this land as befits him;

and that would better have been than to be butchered to death, 680

beheaded by an elvish man for an arrogant vaunt.

Who can recall any king that such a course ever took

as knights quibbling at court at their Christmas games!’

Many warm tears out-welling there watered their eyes,

when that lord so beloved left the castle 685

that day.

No longer he abode,

but swiftly went his way;

bewildering ways he rode,

as the book I heard doth say. 690

30. Now he rides thus arrayed through the realm of Logres,

Sir Gawain in God’s care, though no game no he found it.

Oft forlorn and alone he lodged of a night

where he found not afforded him such fare as pleased him.

19

He had no friend but his horse in the forests and hills, 695

no man on his march to commune with but God,

till anon he drew near unto Northern Wales.

All the isles of Angelsey he held on his left,

and over the fords he fared by the flats near the sea,

and then over by the Holy Head to high land again 700

in the wilderness of Wirral: there wandered but few

who with goodwill regarded either God or mortal.

And ever he asked as he went on of all whom he met

if they had heard any news of a knight that was green

in any ground thereabouts, or of the Green Chapel. 705

And all denied it, saying nay, and that never in their lives

a single man had they seen that of such a color

could be.

The knight took pathways strange

by many a lonesome lea, 710

and oft his view did change

that chapel ere he could see.

31. Many a cliff he climbed o’er in countries unknown,

far fled from his friends without fellowship he rode.

At every wading or water on the way that he passed 715

he found a foe before him, save at few for a wonder;

and so foul were they and fell that fight he must needs.

So many a marvel in the mountains he met in those lands

that ‘twould be tedious the tenth part to tell you thereof.

At whiles with worms he wars, and with wolves also, 720

at whiles with wood-trolls that wandered in the crags,

and with bulls and with bears and boars, too, at times;

and with ogres that hounded him from the heights of the fells.

Had he not been stalwart and staunch and steadfast in God,

he doubtless would have died and death had met often; 725

for though war wearied him much the winter was worse,

when the cold clear water from the clouds spilling

froze ere it had fallen upon the faded earth.

Well nigh slain by the sleet he slept ironclad

more nights than enow in the naked rocks, 730

where clattering from the crest the cold brook tumbled,

and hung high o’er his head in hard icicles.

Thus in peril and pain and in passes grievous

till Christmas-eve that country he crossed all alone

in need. 735

The knight did at that tide

his plaint to Mary plead,

her rider’s road to guide

and to some lodging lead.

20

32. By a mount in the morning merrily he was riding 740

into a forest that was deep and fearsomely wild,

with high hills at each hand, and hoar woods beneath

of huge aged oaks by the hundred together;

the hazel and the hawthorn were huddled and tangled

with rough ragged moss around them trailing, 745

with many birds bleakly on the bare twigs sitting

that piteously piped there for pain of the cold.

The good man on Gringolet goes now beneath them

through many marshes and mires, a man all alone,

troubled lest a truant at that time he should prove 750

from the service of the sweet Lord, who on that selfsame night

of a maid became man our mourning to conquer.

And therefore sighing he said: ‘I beseech thee, O Lord,

And Mary, who is the mildest mother most dear,

for some harbor where with honor I might hear the Mass 755

and thy Matins tomorrow. This meekly I ask,

and thereto promptly I pray with Pater and Ave

and Creed.’

In prayer he now did ride,

lamenting his misdeed; 760

he blessed him oft and cried,

‘The Cross of Christ me speed!’

33. The sign on himself he had set but thrice,

ere a mansion he marked within a moat in the forest,

on a low mound above a lawn, laced under the branches 765

of many a burly bole round about by the ditches:

the castle most comely that ever a king possessed

placed amid a pleasance with a park all about it,

within a palisade of pointed pales set closely

that took its turn round the trees for two miles or more. 770

Gawain from the one side gazed on the stronghold

as it shimmered and shone through the shining oaks,

and then humbly he doffed his helm, and with honor he thanked

Jesus and Saint Julian, who generous are both,

who had courtesy accorded him and to his cry harkened. 775

‘Now bon hostel,’ quoth the knight, ‘I beg of you still!’

Then he goaded Gringolet with his gilded heels,

and he chose by good chance the chief pathway

and brought his master bravely to the bridge’s end

at last. 780

That brave bridge was up-hauled,

the gates were bolted fast;

the castle was strongly walled,

it feared no wind or blast.

21

34. Then he stayed his steed that on the step bank halted 785

above the deep double that was drawn round the place.

The wall waded in the water wondrous deeply,

and up again to a huge height in the air it mounted,

of all hard hewn stone to the high cornice,

fortified under the battlement in the best fashion 790

and topped with fair turrets set by turns about

that had many graceful loopholes with a good outlook:

that knight a better barbican had never seen built.

And inwards he beheld the hall uprising,

tall towers set in turns, and as tines clustering 795

the fair finials, joined featly, so fine and so long,

their capstones all carven with cunning and skill.

Many chalk-white chimneys he chanced to espy

upon the roofs of towers all radiant white;

so many a painted pinnacle was peppered about, 800

among the crenels
16

of the castle clustered so thickly

that all pared out of paper it appeared to have been.

The gallant knight on his great horse good enough thought it,

if he could come by any course that enclosure to enter,

to harbor in that hostel while the holy day lasted 805

with delight.

He called, and there came with speed

a porter blithe and bright;

on the wall he learned his need,

and hailed the errant knight. 810

35. ‘Good sir’, quoth Gawain, ‘will you go with my message

to the high lord of this house for harbor to pray?’

‘Yes, by Peter!’ quoth the porter, ‘and I promise indeed

that you will, sir, be welcome while you wish to stay here.’

Then quickly the man went and came again soon, 815

servants bringing civilly to receive there the knight.

They drew down the great drawbridge, and duly came forth,

And on the cold earth on their knees in courtesy knelt

to welcome this wayfarer with such worship as they knew.

They delivered him the broad gates and laid them wide open, 820

and he readily bade them rise and rode o’er the bridge.

Several servants then seized the saddle as he alighted,

and many stout men his steed to a stable then led,

while knights and esquires anon descended

to guide there in gladness this guest to the hall. 825

When he raised up his helm many ran there in haste

to have it from his hand, his highness to serve;

his blade and his blazon both they took charge of.

16

crenels: battlements

22

Then he greeted graciously those good men all,

and many were proud to approach him, that prince to honor. 830

All hasped in his harness to hall they brought him,

where a fair blaze in the fireplace fiercely was burning.

Then the lord of that land leaving his chamber

came mannerly to meet the man on the floor.

He said: ‘You are welcome at your wish to dwell here. 835

What is here, all is your own, to have in your rule

and sway.’

‘Gramercy!’ quoth Gawain,

‘May Christ you this repay!’

As men that to meet were fain 840

they both embraced that day.

36. Gawain gazed at the good man who had greeted him kindly,

and he thought bold and big was the baron of the castle,

very large and long, and his life at the prime:

broad and bright was his beard, and all beaver-hued, 845

stern, strong in his stance upon stalwart legs,

his face fell as fire, and frank in his speech;

and well it suited him, in sooth, as it seemed to the knight,

a lordship to lead untroubled over lieges trusty.

To a chamber the lord drew him, and charged men at once 850

to assign him an esquire to serve and obey him;

and there to wait on his word many worthy men were,

who brought him to a bright bower where the bedding was splendid:

there were curtains of costly silk with clear-golden hems,

and coverlets cunning-wrought with quilts most lovely 855

of bright ermine above, embroidered at the sides,

hangings running on ropes with red-gold rings,

carpets of costly damask that covered the walls

and the floor under foot fairly to match them.

There they despoiled him, speaking to him gaily, 860

his byrnie doing off and his bright armor.

Rich robes then readily men ran to bring him,

for him to change, and to clothe him, having chosen the best.

As soon as he had donned one and dressed was therein,

as it sat on him seemly with its sailing skirts, 865

then verily in his visage a vision of Spring

to each man there appeared, and in marvelous hues

bright and beautiful was all his body beneath.

That knight more noble was never made by Christ

they thought. 870

He came none knew from where,

but it seemed to them he ought

to be a prince beyond compare

in the field where fell men fought.

23

37. A chair before the chimney where charcoal was burning 875

was made ready in his room, all arrayed and covered

with cushions upon quilted cloths that were cunningly made.

Then a comely cloak was cast about him

of bright silk brocade, embroidered most richly

and furred fairly within with fells of the choicest 880

and all edge with ermine, and its hood was to match;

and he sat in that seat seemly and noble

and warmed himself with a will, and then his woes were amended.

Soon up on good trestles a table was raised

and clad with a clean cloth clear white to look on; 885

there was surnape,
17

salt-cellar, and silvern spoons.

He then washed as he would and went to his food,

and many worthy men with worship waited upon him;

soups they served of many sorts, seasoned most choicely,

in double helpings, as was due, and divers sorts of fish; 890

some baked in bread, some broiled on the coals,

some seethed, some in gravy savored with spices,

and all with condiments so cunning that it caused him delight.

A fair feast he called it frankly and often,

graciously, when all the good men together there pressed him: 895

‘Now pray,

this penance deign to take;

‘twill improve another day!’

The man much mirth did make,

for wine to his head made way. 900

38. Then inquiry and question were carefully put

touching personal points to that prince himself,

till he courteously declared that to the court he belonged

that high Arthur in honor held in his sway,

who was the right royal King of the Round Table, 905

and ‘twas Gawain himself that as their guest now sat

and had come for that Christmas, as the case had turned out.

When the lord had learned whom luck had brought him,

loud laughed he thereat, so delighted he was,

and they made very merry, all the men in that castle, 910

and to appear in the presence were pressing and eager

of one who all profit and prowess and perfect manners

comprised in his person, and praise ever gained;

of all men on middle-earth he most was admired.

Softly each said then in secret to his friend: 915

‘Now fairly shall we mark the fine points of manners,

and the perfect expressions of polished converse.

How speech is well spent will be expounded unasked,

17

surnape: tablecloth

24

since we have found here this fine father of breeding.

God has given us of His goodness His grace now indeed, 920

Who such a guest as Gawain has granted us to have!

When blissful men at board for His birth sing blithe

at heart,

what manners high may mean

this knight will now impart. 925

Who hears him will, I ween
18

of love-speech learn some art.’

39. When his dinner was done and he duly had risen,

it now to the night-time very near had drawn.

The chaplains then took to the chapel their way 930

and rang the bells richly, as rightly they should,

for the solemn evensong of the high season.

The lord leads the way, and his lady with him;

into a goodly oratory gracefully she enters.

Gawain follows gladly, and goes there at once 935

and the lord seizes him by the sleeve and to a seat leads him,

kindly acknowledges him and calls him by his name,

saying that most welcome he was of all guests in the world.

And he grateful thanks gave him, and each greeted the other,

and they sat together soberly while the service lasted. 940

Then the lady longed to look at this knight;

and from her closet she came with many comely maidens.

She was fairer in face, in her flesh and her skin,

her proportions, her complexion, and her port than all others,

and more lovely than Guinevere to Gawain she looked. 945

He came through the chancel to pay court to her grace;

leading her by the left hand another lady was there

who was older than she, indeed ancient she seemed,

and held in high honor by all men about her.

But unlike in their looks those ladies appeared, 950

for if the younger was youthful, yellow was the elder;

with rose-hue the one face was richly mantled,

rough wrinkled cheeks rolled on the other;

on the kerchiefs of the one many clear pearls were,

her breast and bright throat were bare displayed, 955

fairer than white snow that falls on the hills;

the other was clad with a cloth that enclosed all her neck,

enveloped was her black chin with chalk-white veils,

her forehead folded in skin, and so fumbled all up,

so topped up and trinketed and with trifles bedecked 960

that naught was bare of that beldame but her brows all black,

her two eyes and her nose and her naked lips,

18

ween: suppose

25

and those were hideous to behold and horribly bleared;

that a worthy dame she was may well, fore God,

be said! 965

short body and thick waist,

with bulging buttocks spread;

more delicious to the taste

was the one she by her led.

40. When Gawain glimpsed that gay lady that so gracious looked, 970

with leave sought of the lord towards the ladies he went;

the elder he saluted, low to her bowing,

about the lovelier he laid then lightly his arms

and kissed her in courtly wise with courtesy speaking.

His acquaintance they requested, and quickly he begged 975

to be their servant in sooth, if so they desired.

They took him between them, and talking they led him

to a fireside in a fair room, and first of all called

for spices, which men sped without sparing to bring them,

and ever wine therewith well to their liking. 980

The lord for their delight leaped up full often,

many times merry games being minded to make;

his hood he doffed, and on high he hung it on a spear,

and offered it as an honor for any to win

who the most fun could devise at that Christmas feast – 985

‘And I shall try, by my troth, to contend with the best

ere I forfeit this hood, with the help of my friends!’

Thus with laughter and jollity the lord made his jests

to gladden Sir Gawain with games that night

in hall, 990

until the time was due

that the lord for lights should call;

Sir Gawain with leave withdrew

and went to bed withal.

41. On the morn when every man remembers the time 995

that our dear Lord for our doom to die was born,

in every home wakes happiness on earth for His sake.

So did it there on that day with the dearest delights:

at each meal and at dinner marvelous dishes

men set on the dais, the daintiest meats. 1000

The old ancient woman was highest at table,

meetly
19

to her side the master he took him;

Gawain and the gay lady together were seated

in the center, where as was seemly the service began,

and so on through the hall as honor directed. 1005

19

meetly: properly

26

When each good man in his degree without grudge had been served,

there was food, there was festival, there was fullness of joy;

and to tell all the tale of it I should tedious find,

though pains I might take every point to detail.

Yet I ween that Gawain and that woman so fair 1010

in companionship took such pleasure together

in sweet society soft words speaking,

their courteous converse clean and clear of all evil,

that with their pleasant pastime no prince’s sport

compares. 1015

Drums beat, and trumps men wind,

many pipers play their airs;

each man his needs did mind,

and they two minded theirs.

42. With much feasting they fared the first and the next day, 1020

and as heartily the third came hastening after:

the gaiety of Saint John’s day was glorious to hear;

[with cheer of the choicest Childermas followed,]
20

and that finished their revels, as folk there intended,

for there were guests who must go in the grey morning.

So a wondrous wake they held, and the wine they drank, 1025

and the danced and danced on, and dearly they caroled.

At last when it was late their leave then they sought

to wend on their ways, each worthy stranger.

Good-day then said Gawain, but the good man stayed him,

and led him to his own chamber to the chimney-corner, 1030

and there he delayed him, and lovingly thanked him,

for the pride and pleasure his presence had brought,

for so honoring his house at that high season

and deigning his dwelling to adorn with his favor.

‘Believe me, sir, while I live my luck I shall bless 1035

that Gawain was my guest at God’s own feast.’

‘Gramercy, sir,’ said Gawain, ‘but the goodness is yours,

all the honor is your own – may the High King repay you!

And I am under your orders what you ask to perform,

I am bound now to be, for better or worse, 1040

by right.’

Him longer to retain

the lord then pressed the knight;

to him replied Gawain

that he by no means might. 1045

20

with cheer…followed: This line was not in the original. It was introduced into the translation on the assumption that a
line had been lost from the original poem.

27

43. Then with courteous question he enquired of Gawain

what dire need had driven him on that festal date

with such keenness from the king’s court, to come forth alone

ere wholly the holidays from men’s homes had departed.

‘In sooth, sir,’ he said, ‘you say but the truth: 1050

a high errand and a hasty from that house brought me;

for I am summoned myself to seek for a place,

though I wonder where in the world I must wander to find it.

I would not miss coming nigh it on New Year’s morning

for all the land in Logres, so our Lord help me! 1055

And so, sir, this question I enquire of you here:

can you tell me in truth if you tale ever heard

of the Green Chapel, on what ground it may stand,

and of the great knight that guards it, all green in his color?

For the terms of a tryst were between us established 1060

to meet that man at that mark, if I remained alive,

and the named New Year is now nearly upon me,

and I would look on that Lord, if God will allow me,

more gladly, by God’s son, that gain any treasure.

So indeed, if you please, depart now I must. 1065

For my business I have now but barely three days,

and I would fainer
21

fall dead than fail in my errand.’

Then laughing said the lord: ‘Now linger you must;

for when ‘tis time to that tryst I will teach you the road.

On what ground is the Green Chapel – let it grieve you no more! 1070

In your bed you shall be, sir, till broad is the day,

without fret, and then fare on the first of the year,

and come to the mark at mid-morn, there to make what play

you know.

Remain till New Year’s day, 1075

then rise and riding go!

We’ll set you on your way,

‘tis but two miles or so.’

44. Then was Gawain delighted, and in gladness he laughed:

‘Now I thank you a thousand times for this beyond all! 1080

Now my quest is accomplished, as you crave it, I will

dwell a few days here, and else do what you order.’

The lord then seized him and set him in a seat beside him,

and let the ladies be sent for to delight them the more,

for their sweet pleasure there in peace by themselves. 1085

For love of him that lord was as loud in his mirth

as one near out of his mind who scarce knew what he meant.

Then he called to the knight, crying out loudly:

‘You have promised to do whatever deed I propose.

21

fainer: willingly

28

Will you hold this behest here, at this moment?’ 1090

‘Yes, certainly, sir,’ then said the true knight,

‘while I remain in your mansion, your command I’ll obey.’

‘Well,’ returned he, ‘you have travelled and toiled from afar,

and then I’ve kept you awake: you’re not well yet, not cured;

both sustenance and sleep ‘tis certain you need. 1095

Upstairs you shall stay, sir, and stop there in comfort

tomorrow till Mass-time, and to a meal then go

when you wish with my wife, who with you shall sit

and comfort you with her company, till to court I return.

You stay, 1100

and I shall early rouse,

and a-hunting wend my way.’

Gawain gracefully bows:

‘Your wishes I will obey.’

45. ‘One thing more,’ said the master, ‘we’ll make an agreement: 1105

whatever I win in the wood at once shall be yours,

and whatever gain you may get you shall give in exchange.

Shall we swap thus, sweet man – come, say what you think! –

whether one’s luck be light, or one’s lot be better?’

‘By God,’ quoth Gawain, ‘I agree to it all, 1110

and whatever play you propose seems pleasant to me.’

‘Done! ‘Tis a bargain! Who’ll bring us the drink?’

So said the lord of that land. They laughed one and all;

they drank and they dallied, and they did as they pleased,

these lords and ladies, as long as they wished, 1115

and then with customs of France and many courtly phrases

they stood in sweet debate and soft words bandied,

and lovingly they kissed, their leave taking.

With trusty attendants and torches gleaming

they were brought at the last to their beds so soft, 1120

one and all.

Yet ere to bed they came,

he the bargain did oft recall;

he knew how to play a game

the old governor of that hall. 1125

Part III

46. Before the first daylight the folk uprose:

the guests that were to go for their grooms they called;

and they hurried up in haste horses to saddle,

to stow all their stuff and strap up their bags.

The men of rank arrayed them, for riding got ready, 1130

to saddle leaped swiftly, seized then their bridles,

29

and went off on their ways where their wish was to go.

The liege-lord of the land was not last of them all

to be ready to ride with a rout of his men;

he ate a hurried mouthful after the hearing of Mass, 1135

and with horn to the hunting-field he hastened at once.

When daylight was opened yet dimly on earth

he and his huntsmen were up on their high horses.

Then the leaders of the hounds leashed them in couples,

unclosed the kennel-door and cried to them ‘out!’, 1140

and blew boldly on bugles three blasts full long.

Beagles bayed thereat, a brave noise making;

and they whipped and wheeled in those that wandered on a scent;

a hundred hunting-dogs, I have heard, of the best

were they. 1145

To their stations keepers passed;

the leashes were cast away,

and many a rousing blast

woke din in the woods that day.

47. At the first burst of the baying all beasts trembled; 1150

deer dashed through the dale by dread bewildered,

and hastened to the heights, but they hotly were greeted,

and turned back by the beaters, who boldly shouted.

They let the harts go past with their high antlers,

and the brave bucks also with their branching palms; 1155

for the lord of the castle had decreed in the close season

that no man should molest the male of the deer.

The hinds were held back with hey! and ware!,

the does driven with great din to the deep valleys:

there could be seen let slip a sleet of arrows; 1160

at each turn under the trees went a twanging shaft

that into brown hides bit hard with barbéd head.

Lo! they brayed, and they bled, and on the banks they died;

and ever the hounds in haste hotly pursued them,

and hunters with high horns hurried behind them 1165

with such a clamor and cry as if cliffs had been riven.

If any beast broke away from bowmen there shooting,

it was snatched down and slain at the receiving-station;

when they had been harried from the height and hustled to the waters

the men were so wise in their craft at the watches below, 1170

and their greyhounds were so great that they got them at once,

and flung them down in a flash, as fast as men could see

with sight.

The lord then wild for joy

did oft spur and oft alight, 1175

and thus in bliss employ

that day till dark of night.

30

48. Thus in his game the lord goes under greenwood eaves,

and Gawain the bold lies in goodly bed,

lazing, till the walls are lit by the light of day, 1180

under costly coverlet with curtains about him.

And as in slumber he strayed, he heard stealthily come

a soft sound at his door as it secretly opened;

and from under the clothes he craned then his head,

a corner of the curtain he caught up a little, 1185

and looked that way warily to learn what it was.

It was the lady herself, most lovely to see,

that cautiously closed the door quietly behind her,

and drew near to his bed. Then abashed was the knight,

and lay down swiftly to look as if he slept; 1190

and she stepped silently and stole to his bed,

cast back the curtain, and crept then within,

and sat her down softly on the side of his bed,

and there lingered very long to look for his waking.

He lay there lurking a long while and wondered, 1195

and mused in his mind how the matter would go,

to what point it might pass – to some surprise, he fancied.

Yet he said to himself: ‘More seemly ‘twould be

in due course with question to enquire what she wishes.’

Then rousing he rolled over, and round to her turning 1200

he lifted his eyelids with a look as of wonder,

and signed him with the cross, thus safer to be kept

aright.

With chin and cheeks so sweet

of blended red and white, 1205

with grace then him did greet

small lips with laughter bright.

49. ‘Good morning, Sir Gawain!’ said that gracious lady.

‘You are a careless sleeper, if one can creep on you so!

Now quickly you are caught! If we come not to terms, 1210

I shall bind you in your bed, you may be assured.’

With laughter the lady thus lightly jested.

‘Good morning to your grace!’ said Gawain gaily.

‘You shall work on me your will, and well I am pleased;

for I submit immediately, and for mercy I cry, 1215

and that is best, as I deem, for I am obliged to do so.’

Thus he jested in return with much gentle laughter:

‘But if you would, lady gracious, then leave grant me,

and release your prisoner and pray him to rise,

I would abandon this bed and better array me; 1220

the more pleasant would it prove then to parley with you.’

‘Nay, for sooth, fair sir,’ said the sweet lady,

31

‘you shall not go from your bed! I will govern you better:

here fast shall I enfold you, on the far side also,

and then talk with my true knight that I have taken so. 1225

For I wot
22

well indeed that Sir Gawain you are,

to whom all men pay homage wherever you ride;

your honor, your courtesy, by the courteous is praised,

by lords, by ladies, by all living people.

And right here you now are, and we all by ourselves; 1230

my husband and his huntsmen far hence have ridden,

other men are abed, and my maids also,

the door closed and caught with a clasp that is strong;

and since I have in this house one that all delight in,

my time to account I will turn, while for talk I chance 1235

have still.

To my body will you welcome be

of delight to take your fill;

for need constraineth me

to serve you, and I will.’ 1240

50. ‘Upon my word,’ said Gawain, ‘that is well, I guess;

though I am not now he of whom you are speaking –

to attain to such honor as here you tell of

I am a knight unworthy, as well indeed I know –

by God, I would be glad, if good to you seemed 1245

whatever I could say, or in service could offer

to the pleasure of your excellence – it would be pure delight.’

‘In good faith, Sir Gawain,’ said the gracious lady,

‘the prowess and the excellence that all others approve,

if I scorned or descried them, it were scant courtesy. 1250

But there are ladies in number who would now

have thee in their hold, sir, as I have thee here,

pleasantly to play with in polished converse,

their solace to seek and their sorrows to soothe,

than great part of the goods or gold that they own. 1255

But I thank Him who on high of Heaven is Lord

that I have here wholly in my hand what all desire,

by grace.’

She was an urgent wooer,

that lady fair of face; 1260

the knight with speeches pure

replied in every case.

51. ‘Madam’ said he merrily, ‘Mary reward you!

For I have enjoyed, in good faith, your generous favor,

and much honor have had else from others’ kind deeds; 1265

22

wot: know

32

but as for the courtesy they accord me, since my claim is not equal,

the honor is your own, who are ever well-meaning.’

‘Nay, Mary!’ the lady demurred, ‘as for me, I deny it.

For were I worth all the legion of women alive,

and all the wealth in the world at my will possessed, 1270

if I should exchange at my choice and choose me a husband,

for the noble nature I know, Sir Knight, in thee here,

in beauty and bounty and bearing so gay –

of which earlier I have heard, and hold it now true –

then no lord alive would I elect before you.’ 1275

‘In truth, lady,’ he returned, ‘you took one far better.

But I am proud of the praise you are pleased to give me,

and as your servant in earnest my sovereign I hold you,

and your knight I become, and may Christ reward you.’

Thus of many matters they spoke till mid-morn was passed, 1280

and ever the lady demeaned her as one that loved him much,

and he fenced with her featly, ever flawless in manner.

‘Though I were lady most lovely,’ thought the lady to herself,

‘the less love would he bring here,’ since he looked for his bane,

that blow 1285

that him so soon should grieve,

and needs it must be so.

Then the lady asked for leave

and at once he let her go.

52. Then she gave him ‘good day,’ and with a glance she laughed, 1290

and as she stood she astonished him with the strength of her words:

‘Now He that prospers all speech for this disport repay you!

But that you should be Gawain, it gives me much thought.’

‘Why so?’, then eagerly the knight asked her,

afraid that he had failed in the form of his converse. 1295

But ‘God bless you! For this reason’, blithely she answered,

‘that one so good as Gawain the gracious is held,

who all the compass of courtesy includes in his person,

so long with a lady could hardly have lingered

without craving a kiss, as a courteous knight, 1300

by some tactful turn that their talk led to.’

Then said Gawain, ‘Very well, as you wish be it done.

I will kiss at your command, as becometh a knight,

and more, lest he displease you, so plead it no longer.’

She came near thereupon and caught him in her arms, 1305

and down daintily bending dearly she kissed him.

They courteously commended each other to Christ.

Without more ado through the door she withdrew and departed,

and he to rise up in haste made ready at once.

He calls to his chamberlain, and chooses his clothes, 1310

33

and goes forth when garbed all gladly to Mass.

Then he went to a meal that meetly awaited him,

and made merry all day, till the moon arose

o’er earth.

Ne’er was knight so gaily engaged 1315

between two dames of worth,

the youthful and the aged:

together they made much mirth.

53. And ever the lord of the land in his delight was abroad,

hunting by holt and heath after hinds that were barren. 1320

When the sun began to slope he had slain such a number

of does and other deer one might doubt it were true.

Then the fell folk at last came flocking all in,

and quickly of the kill they a quarry assembled.

Thither the master hastened with a host of his men, 1325

gathered together those greatest in fat

and had them riven open rightly, as the rules require.

At the assay they were searched by some that were there,

and two fingers’ breadth of fat they found in the leanest.

Next they slit the eslot,
23

seized on the erber,
24

1330

shaved it with a sharp knife and shore away the grease;

next ripped the four limbs and rent off the hide.

Then they broke open the belly, the bowels they removed

(flinging them nimbly afar) and the flesh of the knot;

they grasped then the gorge; disengaging with skill 1335

the weasand [gullet] from the windpipe, and did away with the guts.

Then they shore out the shoulders with their sharpened knives

(drawing the sinews through a small cut) the sides to keep whole;

next they burst open the breast, and broke it apart,

and again at the gorge one begins thereupon, 1340

cuts all up quickly till he comes to the fork,

and fetches forth the fore-numbles;
25

and following after

all the tissues along the ribs they tear away quickly.

Thus by the bones of the back they broke off with skill,

down even to the haunch, all that hung there together, 1345

and hoisted it up all whole and hewed it off there:

and that they took for the numbles, as I trow is their name

in kind.

Along the fork of every thigh

the flaps they fold behind; 1350

to hew it in two they hie,

down the back all to unbind.

23

eslot: throat
24

erber: guts
25

fore-numbles: entrails

34

54. Both the head and the neck they hew off after,

and next swiftly they sunder the sides from the chine,

and the bone for the crow they cast in the boughs. 1355

Then they thrust through both thick sides with a thong by the rib,

and then by the hocks of the legs they hang them both up:

all the folk earn the fees that fall to their lot.

Upon the fell of the fair beast they fed their hounds then

on the liver and the lights and the leather of the paunches 1360

with bread bathed in blood blended amongst them.

Boldly they blew the prize, amid the barking of dogs,

and then bearing up their venison bent their way homeward,

striking up strongly many a stout horn-call.

When daylight was done they all duly were come 1365

into the noble castle, where quietly the knight

abode

in bliss by bright fire set.

Thither the lord now strode;

when Gawain with him met, 1370

then free all pleasured flowed.

55. Then the master commanded his men to meet in that hall,

and both dames to come down with their damsels also;

before all the folk on that floor fair men he ordered

to fetch there forthwith his venison before him, 1375

and all gracious in game to Gawain he called,

announced the number by tally of the nimble beasts,

and showed him the shining fat all shorn on the ribs.

‘How does this play please you? Have I praise deserved?

Have I earned by mine art the heartiest thanks?’ 1380

‘Yea verily,’ the other averred, ‘here is venison the fairest

that I’ve seen in seven years in the season of winter!’

‘And I give it you all, Gawain,’ said the good man at once,

‘for as your covenant accorded you may claim it as your own.’

‘That is true,’ he returned, ‘and I tell you the same: 1385

what of worth within these walls I have won also

with as good will, I warrant, ‘tis awarded to you.’

His fair neck he enfolded then fast in his arms,

and kissed him with all the kindness that his courtesy knew.

‘There take you my gains, sir! I got nothing more. 1390

I would give it up gladly even if greater it were.

That is a good one!’ quoth the good man. ‘Greatly I thank you.

‘Tis such, maybe, that you had better briefly now tell me

where you won this same wealth by the wits you possess.’

‘That was not the covenant,’ quoth he. ‘Do not question me more! 1395

For you’ve drawn what is due to you, no doubt can you have

‘tis true.’

35

They laugh, and with voices fair

their merriment pursue,

and to supper soon repair 1400

with many dainties new.

56. Later by the chimney in chamber they were seated,

abundant wine of the best was brought to them oft,

and again as a game they agreed on the morrow

to abide by the same bond as they had bargained before: 1405

chance what might chance, to exchange all their trade,

whatever new thing they got, when they gathered at night.

They concluded this compact before the courtiers all;

the drink for the bargain was brought forth in jest;

then their leave at the last they lovingly took, 1410

and away then at once each went to his bed.

When the cock had crowed and cackled but thrice,

the lord had leaped from his bed, and his lieges each one;

so that their meal had been made, and the Mass was over,

and folk bound for the forest, ere the first daybreak, 1415

to chase.

Loud with hunters and horns

o’er plains they passed apace,

and loosed there among the thorns

the running dogs to race. 1420

57. Soon these cried for a quest in a covert by a marsh;

the huntsmen hailed that first heeded the scent,

stirring words he spoke to him with a strident voice.

The hounds then that heard it hastened thither swiftly,

and fell fast on the line, some forty at once. 1425

Then such a baying and babel of bloodhounds together

arose that the rock-wall rang all about them.

Hunters enheartened them with horn and with mouth,

and then all in a rout rushed on together

between a fen-pool in that forest and a frowning crag. 1430

In a tangle under a tall cliff at the tarn’s edges,

where the rough rock ruggedly in ruin was fallen,

they fared to the find, followed by hunters

who made a cast round the crag and the clutter of stones,

till well they were aware that it waited within: 1435

the very beast that the baying bloodhounds had spoken.

Then they beat on the bushes and bade him uprise,

and forth he came to their peril against folk in his path.

‘Twas a boar without rival that burst out upon them;

long the herd he had left, that lone beast aged, 1440

for savage was he, of all swine the hugest,

36

grim indeed when he grunted. Then aghast were many;

for three at the first thrust he threw to the ground,

and sprang off with great speed, sparing the others;

and they hallooed on high, and ha! ha! shouted, 1445

and held horn to mouth, blowing hard the rally.

Many were the wild mouthings of men and of dogs,

as they bounded after this boar, him with blare and with din

to quell.

Many times he turns to bay, 1450

and maims the pack pell-mell;

he hurts many hounds, and they

grievously yowl and yell.

58. Hunters then hurried up eager to shoot him,

aimed at him their arrows, often they hit him; 1455

but poor at core proved the points that pitched on his shields,

and the barbs on his brows would bite not at all;

though the shaven shaft shivered in pieces,

back the head came hopping, wherever it hit him.

But when the hurts went home of their heavier strokes, 1460

then with brain wild for battle he burst out upon them,

ruthless he rent them as he rushed forward,

and many quailed at his coming and quickly withdrew.

But the lord on a light horse went leaping after him;

as bold man on battle-field with his bugle he blew 1465

the rally-call as he rode through the rough thickets,

pursuing this wild swine till the sunbeams slanted.

This day in such doings thus duly they passed,

while our brave knight beloved there lies in his bed

at home in good hap, in housings so costly 1470

and gay.

The lady did not forget:

she came to bid good day;

early she on him set,

his will to wear away. 1475

59. She passed to the curtain and peeped at the knight.

Sir Gawain graciously then welcomed her first,

and she answered him alike, eagerly speaking,

and sat her softly by his side; and suddenly she laughed,

and with a look full of love delivered these words: 1480

‘Sir, if you are Gawain, a wonder I think it

that a man so well-meaning, ever mindful of good,

yet cannot comprehend the customs of the gentle;

and if one acquaints you therewith, you do not keep them in mind:

thou hast forgot altogether what a day ago I taught 1485

37

by the plainest points I could put into words!’

‘What is that?’ he said at once. ‘I am not aware of it at all.

But if you are telling the truth, I must take all the blame.’

‘And yet as to kisses,’ she quoth, ‘this counsel I gave you:

wherever favor is found, defer not to claim them: 1490

that becomes all who care for courteous manners.’

‘Take back,’ said the true knight, ‘that teaching, my dear!

For that I dared not do, for dread of refusal.

Were I rebuffed, I should be to blame for so bold an offer.’

‘Ma fay!’ said the fair lady, ‘you may not be refused; 1495

you are stout enough to constrain one by strength, if you like,

if any were so ill bred as to answer you nay.’

‘Indeed, by God,’ quoth Gawain, ‘you graciously speak;

but force finds no favor among the folk where I dwell,

and any gift not given gladly and freely. 1500

I am at your call and command to kiss when you please.

You may receive as you desire, and cease as you think

in place.’

The down the lady bent,

and sweetly kissed his face. 1505

Much speech then there they spent

of lovers’ grief and grace.

60. ‘I would learn from you, lord,’ the lady then said,

‘if you would not mind my asking, what is the meaning of this:

that one so young as are you in years, and so gay, 1510

by renown so well known for knighthood and breeding,

while of all chivalry the choice, the chief thing to praise,

is the loyal practice of love: very lore of knighthood –

for, talking of the toils that these true knights suffer,

it is the title and contents and text of their works: 1515

how lovers for their true love their lives have imperiled,

have endured for their dear one dolorous trials,

until avenged by their valor, their adversity passed,

they have brought bliss into her bower by their own brave virtues –

and you are the knight of most noble renown in our age, 1520

and your fame and fair name afar is published,

and I have sat by your very self now for the second time,

yet your mouth has never made any remark I have heard

that ever belonged to love-making, lesser or greater.

Surely, you that are so accomplished and so courtly in your vows 1525

should be prompt to expound to a young pupil

by signs and examples the science of lovers.

Why? Are you ignorant who all honor enjoy?

Or else you esteem me too stupid to understand your courtship?

38

But nay! 1530

Here single I come and sit,

a pupil for your play;

come, teach me of your wit,

while my lord is far away.’

61. ‘In good faith,’ said Gawain, ‘may God reward you! 1535

Great delight I gain, and am glad beyond measure

that one so worthy as you should be willing to come here

and take pains with so poor a man: as for playing with your knight,

showing favor in any form, it fills me with joy.

But for me to take up the task on true love to lecture, 1540

to comment on the text and tales of knighthood

to you, who I am certain possess far more skill

in that art by the half than a hundred of such

as I am, or shall ever be while on earth I remain,

it would be folly manifold, in faith, my lady! 1545

All your will I would wish to work, as I am able,

being so beholden in honor, and, so help me the Lord,

desiring ever the servant of yourself to remain.’

Thus she tested and tried him, tempting him often,

so as to allure him to love-making, whatever lay in her heart. 1550

But his defense was so fair that no fault could be seen,

nor any evil upon either side nor aught but joy

they wist
26

They laughed and long they played;

at last she him then kissed, 1555

with grace adieu him bade,

and went where so she list.

62. Then rousing from his rest he rose to hear Mass,

and then their dinner was laid and daintily served.

The livelong day with the ladies in delight he spent, 1560

but the lord o’er the lands leaped to and fro,

pursuing his fell swine that o’er the slopes hurtled

and bit asunder the backs of the best of his hounds,

wherever to bay he was brought, until bowmen dislodged him,

and made him, maugre
27

his teeth, move again onward, 1565

so fast the shafts flew when the folk were assembled.

And yet the stoutest of them still he made start there aside,

till at last he was so spent he could speed no further,

but in such haste as he might he made for a hollow

on a reef beside a rock where the river was flowing. 1570

He put the bank at his back, began then to paw;

26

wist: said
27

maugre: in spite of

39

fearfully the froth of his mouth foamed from the corners;

he whetted his white tusks. Then weary were all

the brave men so bold as by him to stand

of plaguing him from afar, yet for peril they dared not 1575

come nigher.

He had hurt so many before,

that none had now desire

to be torn with the tusks once more

of a beast both mad and dire. 1580

63. Till the knight himself came, his courser spurring,

and saw him brought there to bay, and all about him his men.

Nothing loth he alighted, and leaving his horse,

brandished a bright blade and boldly advanced,

striding stoutly through the ford to where stood the felon. 1585

The wild beast was aware of him with his weapon in hand,

and high raised his hair; with such hate he snorted

that folk feared for the knight, lest his foe should worst him.

Out came the swine and set on him at once,

and the boar and the brave man were both in a melee 1590

in the wildest of the water. The worse had the beast,

for the man marked him well, and as they met he at once

struck steadily his point straight in the neck-slot,

and hit him up to the hilts, so that his heart was riven,

and with a snarl he succumbed, and was swept down the water 1595

straightway.

A hundred hounds him caught,

and fiercely bit their prey;

the men to the bank him brought,

and dogs him dead did lay. 1600

64. There men blew for the prize in many a blaring horn,

and high and loud hallooed all the hunters that could;

bloodhounds bayed for the beast, as bade the masters,

who of that hard-run chase were the chief huntsmen.

Then one that was well learned in woodmen’s lore 1605

with pretty cunning began to carve up this boar.

First he hewed off his head and on high set it,

then he rent him roughly down the ridge of the back,

brought out the bowels, burned them on gleeds
28

,

and with them, blended with blood, the bloodhounds rewarded. 1610

Next he broke up the boar-flesh in broad slabs of brawn,

and haled forth the haslets in order all duly,

and yet all whole he fastened the halves together,

and strongly on a stout pole he strung them then up.

28

gleeds: embers

40

Now with this swine homeward swiftly they hastened, 1615

and the boar’s head was borne before the brave knight himself

who felled him in the ford by force of his hand

so great.

Until he saw Sir Gawain

in the hall he could hardly wait. 1620

He called, and his pay to gain

the other came there straight.

65. The lord with his loud voice and laughter merry

gaily he greeted him when Gawain he saw.

The fair ladies were fetched and the folk all assembled, 1625

and he showed them the shorn slabs, and shaped his report

of the width and wondrous length, and the wickedness also

in war, of the wild swine, as in the woods he had fled.

With fair words his friend the feat then applauded,

and praised the great prowess he had proved in his deeds; 1630

for such brawn on a beast, the brave knight declared,

or such sides on a swine he had never seen before.

They then handled the huge head, and highly he praised it,

showing horror at the hideous thing to honor the lord.

‘Now, Gawain,’ said the good man, ‘this game is your own 1635

by close covenant we concluded, as clearly you know.’

‘That is true,’ he returned, ‘and as truly I assure you

all my winnings, I warrant, I shall award you in exchange.’

He clasped his neck, and courteously a kiss he then gave him

and swiftly with a second he served him on the spot. 1640

‘Now we are quits,’ he quoth, ‘and clear for this evening

of all covenants we accorded, since I came to this house,

as is due.’

The lord said: ‘By Saint Gile,

your match I never knew! 1645

You’ll be wealthy in a while,

such trade if you pursue.’

66. Then on top of the trestles the tables they laid,

cast the clothes thereon, and clear light then

wakened along the walls; waxen torches 1650

men set there, and servants went swift about the hall.

Much gladness and gaiety began then to spring

round the fire on the hearth, and freely and oft

at supper and later: many songs of delight,

such as canticles of Christmas, and new carol-dances, 1655

amid all the mannerly mirth that men can tell of;

and ever our noble knight was next to the lady.

Such glances she gave him of her gracious favor,

secretly stealing sweet looks that strong man to charm,

41

that he was passing perplexed, and ill-pleased at heart. 1660

Yet he would fain not of his courtesy coldly refuse her,

but graciously engaged her, however against the grain

the play.

When mirth they had made in hall

as long as they wished to stay, 1665

to a room did the lord them call

and to the ingle they made their way.

67. There amid merry words and wine they had a mind once more

to harp on the same note on New Year’s Eve.

But said Gawain: ‘Grant me leave to go on the morrow! 1670

For the appointment approaches that I pledged myself to.’

The lord was loth to allow it, and longer would keep him,

and said: ‘As I am a true man I swear on my troth

the Green Chapel thou shalt gain, and go to your business

in the dawn of New Year, sir, ere daytime begins. 1675

So still lie upstairs and stay at thine ease,

and I shall hunt in the holt here, and hold to my terms

with thee truly, when I return, to trade all our gains.

For I have rested thee twice, and trusty I find thee.

Now “third time pays for all,” bethink thee tomorrow! 1680

Make we merry while we may and be mindful of joy,

for the woe one may win whenever one wishes!’

This was graciously agreed, and Gawain would linger.

Then gaily drink is given them and they go to their beds

with light. 1685

Sir Gawain lies and sleeps

soft and sound all night;

his host to his hunting keeps,

and is early arrayed aright.

68. After Mass of a morsel he and his men partook. 1690

Merry was the morning. For his mount then he called.

All the huntsmen that on horse behind him should follow

were ready mounted to ride arrayed at the gates.

Wondrous fair were the fields, for the frost clung there;

in red rose-hued o’er the wrack arises the sun, 1695

sailing clear along the coasts of the cloudy heavens.

The hunters loosed hounds by a holt-border;

the rocks rang in the wood to the roar of their horns.

Some fell on the line to where the fox was lying,

crossing and re-crossing it in the cunning of their craft. 1700

A hound then gives tongue, the huntsman names him,

round him press his companions in a pack all snuffling,

running forth in a rabble them right in his path.

The fox flits before them. They find him at once,

42

and when they see him by sight they pursue him hotly, 1705

decrying him full clearly with a clamor of wrath.

He dodges and ever doubles through many a dense coppice,

and looping oft he lurks and listens under fences.

At last at a little ditch he leaps o’er a thorn-hedge,

sneaks out secretly by the side of a thicket, 1710

weens he is out of the wood and away by his wiles from the hounds.

Thus he went unawares to a watch that was posted,

when fierce on him fell three foes at once

all grey.

He swerves then swift again, 1715

and dauntless darts astray;

in grief and in great pain

to the wood he turns away.

69. Then to hark to the hounds it was heart’s delight,

when all the pack came upon him, there pressing together. 1720

Such a curse at the view they called down on him

that the clustering cliffs might have clattered in ruin.

Here he was hallooed when hunters came on him,

yonder was he assailed with snarling tongues;

there he was threatened and oft thief was he called, 1725

with ever the trailers at his tail so that tarry he could not.

Oft was he run at, if he rushed outwards;

oft he swerved in again, so subtle was Reynard.

Yea! he led the lord and his hunt as laggards behind him

thus by mount and by hill till mid-afternoon. 1730

Meanwhile the courteous knight in the castle in comfort slumbered

behind the comely curtains in the cold morning.

But the lady in love-making had no liking to sleep

nor to disappoint the purpose she had planned in her heart;

but rising up swiftly his room now she sought 1735

in a gay mantle that to the ground was measured

and was fur-lined most fairly with fells well trimmed,

with no comely coif on her head, only the clear jewels

that were twined in her treasure by twenties in clusters;

her noble face and her neck all naked were laid, 1740

her breast bare in front and at the back also.

She came through the chamber-door and closed it behind her,

wide set a window, and to wake him she called,

thus greeting him gaily with her gracious words

of cheer: 1745

‘Ah! man, how canst thou sleep,

the morning is so clear!’

He lay in darkness deep,

but her call he then could hear.

43

70. In heavy darkness drowsing he dream-words muttered, 1750

as a man whose mind was bemused with many mournful thoughts,

how destiny should his doom on that day bring him

and be obliged his blow to abide without debate at all.

But when so comely she came, he recalled then his wits,

swept aside his slumbers, and swiftly made answer. 1755

The lady in lovely guise came laughing sweetly,

bent down o’er his dear face, and deftly kissed him.

He greeted her graciously with a glad welcome,

seeing her so glorious and gaily attired,

so faultless in her features and so fine in her hues 1760

that at once joy up-welling went warm to his heart.

With smiles sweet and soft they turned swiftly to mirth,

and only brightness and bliss was broached there between them

so gay.

They spoke then speeches good, 1765

much pleasure was in that play;

great peril between them stood,

unless Mary for her knight should pray.

71. For she, queenly and peerless, pressed him so closely, 1770

led him so near the line, that at last he must needs

either refuse her with offence or her favors there take.

He cared for his courtesy, lest a caitiff he proved,

yet more for his sad case, if he should sin commit

and to the owner of the house, to his host, be a traitor. 1775

‘God help me!’ said he. ‘Happen that shall not!’

Smiling sweetly aside from himself then he turned

all the fond words of favor that fell from her lips.

Said she to the knight then: ‘Now shame you deserve,

if you love not one that lies alone here beside you, 1780

who beyond all women in the world is wounded in heart,

unless you have a leman,
29

more beloved, whom you like better,

and have affianced faith to that fair one so fast and so true

that you release your desire not – and so I believe now;

and to tell me if that be so truly, I beg you. 1785

For all sakes that men swear by conceal not the truth

in guile.’

The knight said: ‘By Saint John,’

and softly gave a smile,

‘Nay! lover have I none, 1790

and none will have meanwhile.’

72. ‘Those words’, said the woman, ‘are the worst that could be.

But I am answered in deed, and ‘tis hard to endure.

29

leman: lover

44

Kiss me now kindly, and I will quickly depart.

I may but mourn while I live as one that much is in love.’ 1795

Sighing she sank down, and sweetly she kissed him;

then soon she left his side, and said as she stood there:

‘Now, my dear, at this parting do me this pleasure,

give me something as thy gift, thy glove it might be,

that I may remember thee, dear man, my mourning to lessen.’ 1800

‘Now on my word,’ then said he, ‘I wish I had here

the loveliest thing for thy delight that in my land I possess;

for worthily have you earned wondrously often

more reward by rights than within my reach would now be,

save to allot you as love-token thing of little value. 1805

Beneath your honor it is to have here and now

a glove for a guerdon as the gift of Sir Gawain:

and I am here on an errand in unknown lands,

and have no bearers with baggage and beautiful things

(unluckily, dear lady) for your delight at this time. 1810

A man must do as he is placed; be not pained nor aggrieved,’

said he.

Said she so comely clad:

‘Nay, noble knight and free,

though naught of yours I had, 1815

you should get a gift from me.’

73. A rich ring she offered him of red gold fashioned,

with a stone like a star standing up clear

that bore brilliant beams as bright as the sun:

I warrant you it was worth wealth beyond measure. 1820

But the knight said nay to it, and announced then at once:

‘I will have no gifts, fore God, of your grace at this time.

I have none to return you, and naught will I take.’

She proffered it and pressed him, and he her pleading refused,

and swore swiftly upon his word that accept it he would not. 1825

And she, sorry that he refused, said to him further:

‘If to my ring you say nay, since too rich it appears,

and you would not so deeply be indebted to me,

I shall give you my girdle, less gain will that be.’

She unbound a belt swiftly that embracing her sides 1830

was clasped above her kirtle under her comely mantle.

Fashioned it was of green silk, and with gold finished,

though only braided round about, embroidered by hand;

and this she would give to Gawain, and gladly besought him,

of no worth though it were, to be willing to take it. 1835

And he said nay, he would not, he would never receive

either gold or jewelry, ere God the grace sent him

to accomplish the quest on which he had come thither.

45

‘And therefore I pray you, please be not angry,

and cease to insist on it, for to your suit I will ever 1840

say no.

I am deeply in debt to you

for the favor that you show,

to be your servant true

for ever in weal or woe.’ 1845

74. ‘Do you refuse now this silk,’ said the fair lady,

‘because in itself it is poor? And so it appears.

See how small ‘tis in size, and smaller in value!

But one who knew of the nature that is knight there within

would appraise it probably at a price far higher.

For whoever goes girdled with this green riband,

while he keeps it well clasped closely about him,

there is none so hardy under heaven that to hew him were able;

for he could not be killed by any cunning of hand.’

The knight then took note, and thought now in his heart,

‘twould be a prize in that peril that was appointed to him.

When he gained the Green Chapel to get there his sentence,

if by some sleight he were not slain, ‘twould be a sovereign device.

Then he bore with her rebuke, and debated not her words;

and she pressed on him the belt, and proffered it in earnest;

and he agreed, and she gave it very gladly indeed,

and prayed him for her sake to part with it never,

but on his honor hide it from her husband; and he then agreed

that no one ever should know, nay, none in the world

but they. 1865

With earnest heart and mood

great thanks he oft did say.

She then the knight so good

a third time kissed that day.

75. Then she left him alone, her leave taking, 1870

for amusement from the man no more could she get.

When she was gone Sir Gawain got him soon ready,

arose and robed himself in raiment noble.

He laid up the love-lace that the lady had given,

hiding it heedfully where he after might find it. 1875

Then first of all he chose to fare to the chapel,

privately approached a priest, and prayed that he there

would uplift his life, that he might learn better

how his soul should be saved, when he was sent from the world.

There he cleanly confessed him and declared his misdeeds, 1880

both the more and the less, and for mercy he begged,

to absolve him of them all he besought the good man;

46

and he assoiled him and made him as safe and as clean

as for Doom’s Day indeed, were it due on the morrow.

Thereafter more merry he made among the fair ladies, 1885

with carol-dances gentle and all kinds of rejoicing,

than ever he did ere that day, till the darkness of night,

in bliss.

Each man there said: ‘I vow

a delight to all he is! 1890

Since hither he came till now,

he was ne’er so gay as this.’

76. Now indoors let him dwell and have dearest delight,

while the free lord yet fares afield in his sports!

At last the fox he has felled that he followed so long; 1895

for, as he spurred through a spinney to espy there the villain,

where the hounds he had heard that hard on him pressed,

Reynard on his road came through a rough thicket,

and all the rabble in a rush were right on his heels.

The man is aware of the wild thing, and watchful awaits him, 1900

brings out his bright brand and at the beast hurls it;

and he blenched at the blade, and would have backed if he could.

A hound hastened up, and had him ere he could;

and right before the horse’s feet they fell on him all,

and worried there the wily one with a wild clamor. 1905

The lord quickly alights and lifts him at once,

snatching him swiftly from their slavering mouths,

holds him high o’er his head, hallooing loudly;

and there bay at him fiercely many furious hounds.

Huntsmen hurried thither, with horns full many 1910

ever sounding the assembly, till they saw the master.

When together had come his company noble,

all that ever bore bugle were blowing at once,

and all the others hallooed that had not a horn:

it was the merriest music that ever men harkened, 1915

the resounding song there raised that for Reynard’s soul

awoke.

To hounds they pay their fees,

their heads they fondly stroke,

and Reynard then they seize, 1920

and off they skin his cloak.

77. And then homeward they hastened, for at hand was now night,

making strong music on their mighty horns.

The lord alighted at last at his beloved abode,

found a fire in the hall, and fair by the hearth 1925

Sir Gawain the good, and gay was he too,

47

among the ladies in delight his lot was most joyful.

He was clad in a blue cloak that came to the ground;

his surcoat well beseemed him with its soft lining,

and its hood of like hue that hung on his shoulder: 1930

all fringed with white fur very finely were both.

He met indeed the master in the midst of the floor,

and in gaiety greeted him, and graciously said:

‘In this case I will first our covenant fulfill

that to our good we agreed, when ungrudged went the drink.’ 1935

He clasps then the knight and kisses him thrice,

as long and deliciously as he could lay them upon him.

‘By Christ!’ the other quoth, ‘you’ve come by a fortune

in winning such wares, were they worth what you paid.’

‘Indeed, the price was not important,’ promptly he answered, 1940

‘whereas plainly is paid now the profit I gained,’

‘Marry!’ said the other man, ‘mine is not up to’t

for I have hunted all this day, and naught else have I got

but this foul fox-fell – the Fiend have the goods! –

and that is price very poor to pay for such treasures 1945

as these you have thrust upon me, three such kisses

so good.’

‘‘Tis enough,’ then said Gawain.

‘I thank you, by the Rood,’

and how the fox was slain 1950

he told him as they stood.

78. With mirth and minstrelsy and meats at their pleasure

as merry they made as any men could be;

amid the laughter of ladies and light words of jest

both Gawain and the good man could no gayer have proved, 1955

unless they had doted indeed or else drunken had been.

Both the host and his household went on with their games,

till the hour had approached when part must they all;

to bed were now bound the brave folk at last.

Bowing low his leave of the lord there first 1960

the good knight then took, and graciously thanked him:

‘For such a wondrous welcome as within these walls I have had,

for your honor at this high feast the High King reward you!

In your service I set myself, your servant, if you will.

For I must needs make a move tomorrow, as you know, 1965

if you give me some good man to go, as you promised,

and guide me to the Green Chapel, as God may permit me

to face on New Year’s day such doom as befalls me.’

‘On my word,’ said his host, ‘with hearty good will

to all that ever I promised I promptly shall hold.’ 1970

Then a servant he assigns him to set him on the road,

48

and by the downs to conduct him, that without doubt or delay

he might through wild and through wood ways most

straight pursue.

Said Gawain, ‘My thanks receive, 1975

such a favor you will do!’

The knight then took his leave

of those noble ladies two.

79. Sadly he kissed them and said his farewells,

and pressed oft upon them in plenty his thanks, 1980

and they promptly the same again repaid him;

to God’s keeping they gave him, grievously sighing.

Then from the people of the castle he with courtesy parted;

all the men that he met he remembered with thanks

for their care for his comfort and their kind service, 1985

and the trouble each had taken in attendance upon him;

and every one was as woeful to wish him adieu

as had they lived all their lives with his lordship in honor.

Then with link-men and lights he was led to his chamber

and brought sweetly to bed, there to be at his rest. 1990

That soundly he slept then assert will I not,

for he had many matters in the morning to mind, if he

would, in thought.

There let him lie in peace,

near now is the tryst he sought. 1995

If a while you will hold your peace,

I will tell the deeds they wrought!

Part IV

80. Now New Year draws near and the night passes,

day comes driving the dark, as ordained by God;

but wild weathers of the world awake in the land, 2000

clouds cast keenly the cold upon earth

with bitter breath from the North biting the naked.

Snow comes shivering sharp to shrivel the wild things,

the whistling wind whirls from the heights

and drives every dale full of drifts very deep. 2005

Long the knight listens as he lies in his bed;

though he lays down his eyelids, very little he sleeps:

at the crow of every cock he recalls well his tryst.

Briskly he rose from his bed ere the break of day,

for there was light from a lamp that illumined his chamber. 2010

He called to his chamberlain, who quickly him answered,

And he bade him bring his byrnie and his beast saddle.

The man got him up and his gear fetched him,

and garbed then Sir Gawain in great array;

49

first he clad him in his clothes to keep out the cold, 2015

and after that in his harness that with heed had been tended,

both his pauncer
30

and his plates polished all brightly,

the rings rid of the rust on his rich byrnie:

all was neat as if new, and the knight him thanked

with delight. 2020

He put on every piece

all burnished and bright

most gallant from here to Greece

for his courser called the knight.

81. While the proudest of his apparel he put on himself: 2025

his coat-armor, with the cognizance of the clear symbol

upon velvet environed with virtuous gems

all bound and braided about it, with broidered seams

and with fine furs lined wondrous fairly within,

yet he overlooked not the lace that the lady had given him; 2030

that Gawain forgot not, of his own good thinking;

when he had belted his brand upon his buxom haunches,

he twined the love-token twice then about him,

and swiftly he swathed it sweetly about his waist,

that girdle of green silk, and gallant it looked 2035

upon the royal red cloth that was rich to behold.

But he wore not for worth nor for wealth this girdle,

not for pride in the pendants, though polished they were,

not though the glittering gold there gleamed at the ends,

but so that himself he might save when suffer he must, 2040

must abide bane without debating it with blade or with brand

of war.

When arrayed the knight so bold

came out before the door,

to all that high household 2045

great thanks he gave once more.

82. Now Gringolet was groomed, the great horse and high,

who had been lodged to his liking and loyally tended:

fain to gallop was that gallant horse for his good fettle,

His master to him came and marked well his coat, 2050

and said: ‘Now solemnly myself I swear on my troth

there is a company in this castle that is careful of honor!

Their lord that them leads, may his lot be joyful!

Their beloved lady in life may delight befall her!

If they out of charity thus cherish a guest, 2055

upholding their house in honor, may He them reward

that upholds heaven on high, and all of you too!

30

pauncer: belly armor

50

And if life a little longer I might lead upon earth,

I would give you some guerdon gladly, were I able.’

Then he steps in the stirrup and strides on his horse; 2060

his shield his man showed him, and on shoulder he slung it,

Gringolet he goaded with his gilded heels,

and he plunged forth on the pavement, and prancing no more

stood there.

Ready now was his squire to ride 2065

that his helm and lance would bear.

‘Christ keep this castle’! he cried

and wished it fortune fair.

83. The bridge was brought down and the broad gates then

unbarred and swung back upon both hinges. 2070

The brave man blessed himself, and the boards crossing,

bade the porter up rise, who before the prince kneeling

gave him ‘Good day, Sir Gawain!’, and ‘God save you!’

Then he went on his way with the one man only

to guide him as he goes to that grievous place 2075

where he is due to endure the dolorous blow.

They go by banks and by braes where branches are bare,

they climb along cliffs where clingeth the cold;

the heavens are lifted high, but under them evilly

mist hangs moist on the moor, melts on the mountains; 2080

every hill has a hat, a mist-mantle huge.

Brooks break and boil on braes all about,

bright bubbling on their banks where they bustle downwards.

Very wild through the wood is the way they must take,

until soon comes the season when the sun rises 2085

that day.

On a high hill they abode,

white snow beside them lay;

the man that by him rode

there bade his master stay. 2090

84. ‘For so far I have taken you, sir, at this time,

and now you are near to that noted place

that you have enquired and questioned so curiously after.

But I will announce now the truth, since you are known to me,

and you are a lord in this life that I love greatly, 2095

if you would follow my advice you would fare better.

The place that you pass to, men perilous hold it,

the worst wight
31

in the world in that waste dwelleth;

for he is stout and stern, and to strike he delights,

and he mightier than any man upon middle-earth is, 2100

31

wight: supernatural being

51

and his body is bigger than the four best men

that are in Arthur’s house, either Hestor or others.

All goes as he chooses at the Green Chapel;

no one passes by that place so proud in his arms

that he hews not to death by dint of his hand. 2105

For he is a man monstrous, and mercy he knows not;

for be it a churl or a chaplain that by the Chapel rideth,

a monk or a mass-priest or any man besides,

he would as soon have him slain as himself go alive.

And so I say to you, as sure as you sit in your saddle, 2110

if you come there, you’ll be killed, if the carl has his way.

Trust me, that is true, though you had twenty lives

to yield.

He here has dwelt now long

and stirred much strife on field; 2115

against his strokes so strong

yourself you cannot shield.

85. And so, good Sir Gawain, now go another way,

and let the man alone, for the love of God, sir!

Come to some other country, and there may Christ keep you! 2120

And I shall haste me home again, and on my honor I promise

that I swear will by God and all His gracious saints,

so help me God and the Halidom, and other oaths a plenty,

that I will safe keep your secret, and say not a word

that ever you fain were to flee for any foe that I knew of.’ 2125

‘Gramercy!’ quoth Gawain, and regretfully answered:

‘Well, man, I wish thee, who wishest my good,

and keep safe my secret, I am certain thou wouldst.

But however heedfully thou hid it, if I here departed

fain in fear now to flee, in the fashion thou speakest, 2130

I should a knight coward be, I could not be excused.

Nay, I’ll fare to the Chapel, whatever chance may befall,

and have such words with that wild man as my wish is

to say, come fair or come foul, as fate will allot

me there. 2135

He may be a fearsome knave

to tame, and club may bear;

but His servants true to save

the Lord can well prepare.’

86. ‘Marry!’ quoth the other man, ‘now thou makest it so clear 2140

that thou wishest thine own bane to bring on thyself,

and to lose thy life hast a liking, to delay thee I care not!

Have here thy helm on thy head, thy spear in thy hand,

and ride down by yon rock-side where runs this same track,

52

till thou art brought to the bottom of the baleful valley. 2145

A little to thy left hand then look o’er the green,

and thou wilt see on the slope the selfsame chapel,

and the great man and grim on ground that it keeps.

Now farewell in God’s name, Gawain the noble!

For all the gold in the world I would not go with thee, 2150

nor bear thee fellowship through this forest one foot further!’

With that his bridle towards the wood back the man turneth,

hits his horse with his heels as hard as he can,

gallops on the greenway, and the good knight there leaves

alone, 2155

Quoth Gawain: ‘By God on high

I will neither grieve nor groan.

With God’s will I comply,

Whose protection I do own.’

87. Then he put spurs to Gringolet, and espying the track, 2160

thrust in along a bank by a thicket’s border,

rode down the rough brae right to the valley;

and then he gazed all about: a grim place he thought it,

and saw no sign of shelter on any side at all,

only high hillsides sheer upon either hand, 2165

and notched knuckled crags with gnarled boulders;

the very skies by the peaks were scraped, it appeared.

Then he halted and held in his horse for the time,

and changed oft his front the Chapel to find.

Such on no side he saw, as seemed to him strange, 2170

save a mound as it might be near the marge of a green,

a worn barrow on a brae by the brink of a water,

beside falls in a flood that was flowing down;

the burn bubbled therein, as if boiling it were.

He urged on his horse then, and came up to the mound, 2175

there lightly alit, and lashed to a tree

his reins, with a rough branch rightly secured them.

Then he went to the barrow and about it he walked,

debating in his mind what might the thing be.

It had a hole at the end and at either side, 2180

and with grass in green patches was grown all over,

and was all hollow within: nought but an old cavern,

or a cleft in an old crag, he could not it name

aright.

‘Can this be the Chapel Green, 2185

O Lord?’ said the gentle knight.

‘Here the Devil might say, I ween,

his matins about midnight!’

53

88. ‘On my word,’ quoth Gawain, ‘‘tis a wilderness here!

This oratory looks evil. With herbs overgrown 2190

it fits well that fellow transformed into green

to follow here his devotions in the Devil’s fashion.

Now I feel in my five wits the Fiend ‘tis himself

that has trapped me with this tryst to destroy me here.

This is a chapel of mischance, the church most accursed 2195

that ever I entered. Evil betide it!’

With high helm on his head, his lance in his hand,

he roams up to the roof of that rough dwelling.

Then he heard from the high hill, in a hard rock-wall

beyond the stream on a steep, a sudden startling noise. 2200

How it clattered in the cliff, as if to cleave it asunder,

as if one upon a grindstone were grinding a scythe!

How it whirred and it rasped as water in a mill-race!

How it rushed, and it rang, rueful to harken!

Then ‘By God,’ quoth Gawain, ‘I guess this ado 2205

is meant for my honor, meetly to hail me

as knight!

As God wills! Waylaway!

That helps me not a mite.

My life though down I lay, 2210

no noise can me affright.

89. Then clearly the knight there called out aloud:

‘Who is master in this place to meet me at tryst?

For now ‘tis good Gawain on ground that here walks.

If any aught hath to ask, let him hasten to me, 2215

either now or else never, his needs to further!’

‘Stay!’ said one standing above on the steep o’er his head,

‘and thou shalt get in good time what to give thee I vowed.’

Still with that rasping and racket he rushed on a while,

and went back to his whetting, till he wished to descend. 2220

And then he climbed past a crag, and came from a hole,

hurtling out of a hid nook with a horrible weapon:

a Danish axe newly dressed the dint to return,

with cruel cutting-edge curved along the handle –

filed on a whetstone, and four feet in width, 2225

‘twas no less – along its lace of luminous hue;

and the great man in green still guised as before,

his locks and long beard, his legs and his face,

save that firm on his feet he fared on the ground,

steadied the haft on the stones and stalked beside it. 2230

When he walked to the water, where he wade would not,

he hopped over on his axe and haughtily strode,

fierce and fell on a field where far all about

54

lay snow.

Sir Gawain the man met there, 2235

neither bent nor bowed he low.

The other said: ‘Now, sirrah fair,

I true at tryst thee know!’

90. ‘Gawain,’ said that green man, ‘may God keep thee!

On my word, sir, I welcome thee with a will to my place, 2240

and thou hast timed thy travels as trusty man should,

and thou hast forgot not the engagement agreed on between us:

as this time gone a twelvemonth thou took’st thy allowance,

and I should now this New Year nimbly repay thee.

And we are in this valley now verily on our own, 2245

there are no people to part us – we can play as we like.

Have thy helm off thy head, and have here thy pay!

Bandy me no more debate than I brought before thee

when thou didst sweep off my head with one swipe only!’

‘Nay,’ quoth Gawain, ‘by God that gave me my soul, 2250

I shall grudge thee not a grain any grief that follows.

Only restrain thee to one stroke, and still shall I stand

and offer thee no hindrance to act as thou likest

right here.’

With a nod of his neck he bowed, 2255

let bare the flesh appear;

he would not by dread be cowed,

no sign he gave of fear.

91. Then the great man in green gladly prepared him,

gathered up his grim tool there Gawain to smite; 2260

with all the lust in his limbs aloft he heaved it,

shaped as mighty a stroke as if he meant to destroy him.

Had it driving come down as dour as he aimed it,

under his dint would have died the most doughty man ever.

But Gawain on that guisarme then glanced to one side, 2265

as down it came gliding on the green there to end him,

and he shrank a little with his shoulders at the sharp iron.

With a jolt the other man jerked back the blade,

and reproved then the prince, proudly him taunting.

Thou’rt not Gawain,’ said the green man, ‘who is so good reported, 2270

who never flinched from any foes on fell or in dale;

and now thou fleest in fear, ere thou feelest a hurt!

Of such cowardice that knight I ne’er heard accused.

Neither blenched I nor backed, when thy blow, sir, thou aimedst,

nor uttered any cavil in the court of King Arthur. 2275

My head flew to my feet, and yet fled I never;

but thou, ere thou hast any hurt, in thy heart quailest,

55

and so the nobler knight to be named I deserve

therefore.’

‘I blenched once,’ Gawain said, 2280

‘and I will do so no more.

But if on floor now falls my head,

I cannot it restore.

92. But get busy, I beg, sir, and bring me to the point.

Deal me my destiny, and do it out of hand! 2285

For I shall stand from thee a stroke and stir not again

till thine axe hath hit me, have here my word on’t!’

‘Have at thee then!’ said the other, and heaved it aloft,

and wratched
32

him as wrathfully as if he were wild with rage.

He made at him a mighty aim, but the man he touched not, 2290

holding back hastily his hand, ere hurt it might do.

Gawain warily awaited it, and winced with no limb,

but stood as still as a stone or the stump of a tree

that with a hundred raveled
33

roots in rocks is embedded.

This time merrily remarked then the man in the green: 2295

‘So, now thou hast thy heart whole, a hit I must make.

May the high order now keep thee that Arthur gave thee,

and guard thy gullet at this go, if it can gain thee that.’

Angrily with ire then answered Sir Gawain:

‘Why! lash away, thou lusty man! Too long dost thou threaten. 2300

‘Tis thy heart methinks in thee that now quaileth!’

‘In faith,’ said the fellow, ‘so fiercely thou speakest,

I no longer will linger delaying thy errand

right now.’

Then to strike he took his stance 2305

and grimaced with lip and brow.

He that of rescue saw no chance

was little pleased, I trow.

93. Lightly his weapon he lifted, and let it down neatly

with the bent horn of the blade towards the neck that was bare; 2310

though he hewed with a hammer-swing, he hurt him no more

than to snick him on one side and sever the skin.

Through the fair fat sank the edge, and the flesh entered,

so that the shining blood o’er his shoulders was shed on the earth;

and when the good knight saw the gore that gleamed on the snow, 2315

he sprang out with spurning feet a spear’s length and more,

in haste caught his helm and on his head cast it,

under his fair shield he shot with a shake of his shoulders,

brandished his bright sword, and boldly he spake –

never since he as manchild of his mother was born 2320

32

wratched: wrestled
33

raveled: tangled

56

was he ever on this earth half so happy a man:

‘Have done, sir, with thy dints! Now deal me no more!

I have stood from thee a stroke without strife on this spot,

and if thou offerest me others, I shall answer thee promptly,

and give as good again, and as grim, be assured, 2325

shall pay.

But one stroke here’s my due,

as the covenant clear did say

that in Arthur’s halls we drew.

And so, good sir, now stay!’ 2330

94. From him the other stood off, and on his axe rested,

held the haft to the ground, and on the head leaning,

gazed at the good knight as on the green he there strode.

To see him standing so stout, so stern there and fearless,

armed and unafraid, his heart it well pleased. 2335

Then merrily he spoke with a mighty voice,

and loudly it rang, as to that lord he said:

‘Fearless knight on this field, so fierce do not be!

No man here unmannerly hath thee maltreated,

nor aught given thee not granted by agreement at court. 2340

A hack I thee vowed, and thou’st had it, so hold thee content;

I remit thee the remnant of all rights I might claim.

If I brisker had been, a buffet, it may be,

I could have handed thee more harshly, and harm could have done thee.

First I menaced thee in play with no more than a trial, 2345

and clove thee with no cleft: I had a claim to the feint,

for the fast pact we affirmed on the first evening,

and thou fairly and unfailing didst faith with me keep,

all thy gains thou me gavest, as good man ought.

The other trial for the morning, man, I thee tendered 2350

when thou kissedst my comely wife, and the kisses didst render.

For the two here I offered only two harmless feints

to make.

The true shall truly repay,

for no peril then need he quake. 2355

Thou didst fail on the third day,

and so that tap now take!

95. For it is my weed that thou wearest, that very woven girdle:

my own wife it awarded thee, I wot
34

well indeed.

Now I am aware of thy kisses, and thy courteous ways, 2360

and of thy wooing by my wife: I worked that myself!

I sent her to test thee, and thou seem’st to me truly

the fair knight most faultless that e’er foot set on earth!

34

wot: know (again…)

57

As a pearl than white pease
35

is prized more highly,

so is Gawain, in good faith, than other gallant knights. 2365

But in this you lacked, sir, a little, and of loyalty came short.

But that was for no artful wickedness, nor for wooing either,

but because you loved your own life: the less do I blame you.’

The other stern knight in a study then stood a long while,

in such grief and disgust he had a grue
36

in his heart; 2370

all the blood from his breast in his blush mingled,

and he shrank into himself with shame a that speech.

The first words on that field that he found then to say

were: ‘Cursed be ye, Coveting, and Cowardice also!

In you is vileness, and vice that virtue destroyeth.’ 2375

He took then the treacherous thing, and untying the knot

fiercely flung he the belt at the feet of the knight:

‘See there the falsifier, and foul be its fate!

Through care for thy blow Cowardice brought me

to consent to Coveting, my true kind forsake, 2380

which is free-hand and faithful word that are fitting to knights.

Now I am faulty and false, who afraid have been ever

of treachery and troth-breach: the two now my curse

may bear!

I confess, sir, here to you 2385

all faulty has been my fare.

Let me gain your grace anew,

and after I will beware.’

96. Then the other man laughed and lightly answered:

‘I hold it healed beyond doubt, the harm that I had. 2390

Thou hast confessed thee so clean and acknowledged thine errors,

and hast the penance plain to see from the point of my blade,

that I hold thee purged of that debt, made as pure and as clean

as hadst thou done no ill deed since the day thou wert born.

And I give thee, sir, the girdle with gold at its hems, 2395

for it is green like my gown. So, Sir Gawain, you may

think of this our contest when in the throng thou walkest

among princes of high praise; ‘twill be a plain reminder

of the chance of the Green Chapel between chivalrous knights.

And now you shall in this New Year come anon to my house, 2400

and in our revels the rest of this rich season

shall go.’

The lord pressed him hard to wend,

and said, ‘my wife, I know,

we soon shall make your friend, 2405

who was your bitter foe.’

35

pease: pea
36

grue: aversion

58

97. ‘Nay forsooth!’ the knight said, and seized then his helm,

and duly it doffed, and the doughty man thanked:

‘I have lingered too long! May your life now be blest,

and He promptly repay you Who apportions all honors! 2410

And give my regards to her grace, your goodly consort,

both to her and to the other, to mine honored ladies,

who thus their servant with their designs have subtly beguiled.

But no marvel it is if mad be a fool,

and by the wiles of woman to woe be brought. 2415

For even so Adam by one on earth was beguiled,

and Solomon by several, and to Samson moreover

his doom by Delilah was dealt; and David was after

blinded by Bathsheba, and he bitterly suffered.

Now if these came to grief through their guile, a gain ‘twould be vast 2420

to love them well and believe them not, if it lay in man’s power!

Since these were aforetime the fairest, by fortune most blest,

eminent among all the others who under heaven bemused

were too,

and all of them were betrayed 2425

by women that they knew,

though a fool I now am made,

some excuse I think my due.’
37

98. ‘But for your girdle,’ quoth Gawain, ‘may God you repay!

That I will gain with good will, not for the gold so joyous 2430

of the cincture, nor the silk, nor the swinging pendants,

nor for wealth, nor for worth, nor for workmanship fine;

but as a token of my trespass I shall turn to it often

when I ride in renown, ruefully recalling

the failure and the frailty of the flesh so perverse, 2435

so tender, so ready to take taints of defilement.

And thus, when pride my heart pricks for prowess in arms,

one look at this love-lace shall lowlier make it.

But one thing I would pray you, if it displeaseth you not,

since you are the lord of yonder land, where I lodged for a while 2440

in your house and in honor – may He you reward

Who upholdeth the heavens and on high sitteth! –

how do you announce your true name? And then nothing further.’

‘That I will tell thee truly,’ then returned the other.

‘Bertilak de Hautdesert hereabouts I am called, 2445

[who thus have been enchanted and changed in my hue]
38

by the might of Morgan le Fay that in my mansion dwelleth,

and by cunning of lore and crafts well learned.

37

Adam, Solomon, Samson, and David: see appendix
38

who thus have been . . . my hue: This line was not in the original. It was introduced into the translation on the
assumption that a line had been lost from the original poem.

59

The magic arts of Merlin she many hath mastered;

for deeply in dear love she dealt on a time

with that accomplished clerk, as at Camelot runs 2450

the fame;

and Morgan the Goddess

is therefore now her name.

None power and pride possess

too high for her to tame. 2455

99. She made me go in this guise to your goodly court

to put its pride to the proof, if the report were true

that runs of the great renown of the Round Table.

She put this magic upon me to deprive you of your wits,

in hope Guinevere to hurt, that she in horror might die 2460

aghast at that glamour that gruesomely spake

with its head in its hand before the high table.

She it is that is at home, that ancient lady;

she is indeed thine own aunt, Arthur’s half-sister,

daughter of the Duchess of Tintagel on whom doughty Sir Uther 2465

after begat Arthur, who in honor is now.

Therefore I urge thee in earnest, sir, to thine aunt return!

In my hall make merry! My household thee loveth,

and I wish thee as well, upon my word, sir knight,

as any that go under God, for thy great loyalty.’ 2470

But he denied him with a ‘Nay! by no means I will!’

They clasp then and kiss and to the care give each other

of the Prince of Paradise; and they part on that field

so cold,

To the king’s court on courser keen 2475

then hastened Gawain the bold,

and the knight in the glittering green

to ways of his own did hold.

100. Wild ways in the world Gawain now rideth

on Gringolet: by the grace of God he still lived. 2480

Oft in house he was harbored and lay oft in the open,

oft vanquished his foe in adventures as he fared

which I intend not this time in my tale to recount.

The hurt was healed that he had in his neck,

and the bright-hued belt he bore now about it 2485

obliquely like a baldric bound at his side,

under his left arm with a knot that lace was fastened

to betoken he had been detected in the taint of a fault;

and so at last he came to the Court again safely.

Delight there was awakened, when the lords were aware 2490

that good Gawain had returned: glad news they thought it.

The king kissed the knight, and the queen also,

60

and then in turn many a true knight that attended to greet him.

About his quest they enquire, and he recounts all the marvels,

declares all the hardships and care that he had, 2495

what chanced at the Chapel, what cheer made the knight,

the love of the lady, and the lace at the last.

The notch in his neck naked he showed them

that he had for his dishonesty from the hands of the knight

in blame. 2500

It was torment to tell the truth:

in his face the blood did flame;

he groaned for grief and ruth
39

when he showed it, to his shame.

101. ‘Lo! Lord,’ he said at last, and the lace handled, 2505

‘This is the band! For this a rebuke I bear in my neck!

This is the grief and disgrace I have got for myself

from the covetousness and cowardice that o’er came me there!

This is the token of the troth-breach that I am detected in,

and needs must I wear it while in the world I remain; 2510

for a man may cover his blemish, but unbind it he cannot,

for where once ‘tis applied, thence part will it never.’

The king comforted the knight, and all the Court also

laughed loudly thereat, and this law made in mirth

the lords and the ladies that whoso belonged to the Table, 2515

every knight in Brotherhood, a baldric should have,

a band of bright green obliquely about him,

and this for love of that knight as a livery should wear.

For that was reckoned the distinction of the Round Table,

and honor was his that had it evermore after, 2520

as it is written in the best of the books of romance.

Thus in Arthur his days happened this marvel,

as the Book of the Brut beareth us witness;

since Brutus the bold knight to Britain came first,

after the siege and the assault had ceased at Troy, 2525

I trow,

many a marvel such before,

has happened here ere now.

To His bliss us bring Who bore

the Crown of Thorns on brow! AMEN. 2530

HONY SOYT QUI MAL PENCE
40

39

ruth: pity or distress
40

HONY SOYT QUI MAL PENCE: Anglo-Norman French: “Shame unto him who thinks evil of it.” This is the Motto

of the Order of the Garter. The words have been added to the manuscript, possibly by someone who wanted to suggest a

relationship between the adoption of the green girdle by Arthur’s court and the founding of the Order of the Garter in 1350.
But there is general agreement that there is little basis for interpreting one in terms of the other.

61

Appendix

Genesis 3 (NIV)

The Fall

3 Now the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals the LORD God had made. He said to the
woman, “Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden’?”

2 The woman said to the serpent, “We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, 3 but God did say, ‘You

must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will

die.’”

4 “You will not certainly die,” the serpent said to the woman. 5 “For God knows that when you eat from it

your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.”

6 When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also

desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband, who was with

her, and he ate it. 7 Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they

sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves.

8 Then the man and his wife heard the sound of the LORD God as he was walking in the garden in the cool

of the day, and they hid from the LORD God among the trees of the garden. 9 But the LORD God called to

the man, “Where are you?”

10 He answered, “I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid.”

11 And he said, “Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten from the tree that I commanded you

not to eat from?”

12 The man said, “The woman you put here with me—she gave me some fruit from the tree, and I ate it.”

13 Then the LORD God said to the woman, “What is this you have done?”

The woman said, “The serpent deceived me, and I ate.”

14 So the LORD God said to the serpent, “Because you have done this,

“Cursed are you above all livestock

and all wild animals!

You will crawl on your belly

and you will eat dust

all the days of your life.

15 And I will put enmity

between you and the woman,

and between your offspring and hers;

he will crush your head,

and you will strike his heel.”

16 To the woman he said,

“I will make your pains in childbearing very severe;

with painful labor you will give birth to children.

Your desire will be for your husband,

and he will rule over you.”

62

17 To Adam he said, “Because you listened to your wife and ate fruit from the tree about which I

commanded you, ‘You must not eat from it,’

“Cursed is the ground because of you;

through painful toil you will eat food from it

all the days of your life.

18 It will produce thorns and thistles for you,

and you will eat the plants of the field.

19 By the sweat of your brow

you will eat your food

until you return to the ground,

since from it you were taken;

for dust you are

and to dust you will return.”

Judges 16 (NIV)

Samson and Delilah

16 One day Samson went to Gaza, where he saw a prostitute. He went in to spend the night with her. 2
The people of Gaza were told, “Samson is here!” So they surrounded the place and lay in wait for him all

night at the city gate. They made no move during the night, saying, “At dawn we’ll kill him.”

3 But Samson lay there only until the middle of the night. Then he got up and took hold of the doors of the

city gate, together with the two posts, and tore them loose, bar and all. He lifted them to his shoulders and

carried them to the top of the hill that faces Hebron.

4 Some time later, he fell in love with a woman in the Valley of Sorek whose name was Delilah. 5 The

rulers of the Philistines went to her and said, “See if you can lure him into showing you the secret of his

great strength and how we can overpower him so we may tie him up and subdue him. Each one of us will

give you eleven hundred shekels of silver.”

6 So Delilah said to Samson, “Tell me the secret of your great strength and how you can be tied up and

subdued.”

7 Samson answered her, “If anyone ties me with seven fresh bowstrings that have not been dried, I’ll

become as weak as

any other man.”

8 Then the rulers of the Philistines brought her seven fresh bowstrings that had not been dried, and she

tied him with them. 9 With men hidden in the room, she called to him, “Samson, the Philistines are upon

you!” But he snapped the bowstrings as easily as a piece of string snaps when it comes close to a flame.

So the secret of his strength was not discovered.

10 Then Delilah said to Samson, “You have made a fool of me; you lied to me. Come now, tell me how

you can be tied.”

11 He said, “If anyone ties me securely with new ropes that have never been used, I’ll become as weak as

any other man.”

12 So Delilah took new ropes and tied him with them. Then, with men hidden in the room, she called to

him, “Samson, the Philistines are upon you!” But he snapped the ropes off his arms as if they were

threads.

63

13 Delilah then said to Samson, “All this time you have been making a fool of me and lying to me. Tell me

how you can be tied.”

He replied, “If you weave the seven braids of my head into the fabric on the loom and tighten it with the

pin, I’ll become as weak as any other man.” So while he was sleeping, Delilah took the seven braids of

his head, wove them into the fabric 14 and tightened it with the pin.

Again she called to him, “Samson, the Philistines are upon you!” He awoke from his sleep and pulled up

the pin and the loom, with the fabric.

15 Then she said to him, “How can you say, ‘I love you,’ when you won’t confide in me? This is the third

time you have made a fool of me and haven’t told me the secret of your great strength.” 16 With such

nagging she prodded him day after day until he was sick to death of it.

17 So he told her everything. “No razor has ever been used on my head,” he said, “because I have been a

Nazirite dedicated to God from my mother’s womb. If my head were shaved, my strength would leave

me, and I would become as weak as any other man.”

18 When Delilah saw that he had told her everything, she sent word to the rulers of the Philistines, “Come

back once more; he has told me everything.” So the rulers of the Philistines returned with the silver in

their hands. 19 After putting him to sleep on her lap, she called for someone to shave off the seven braids

of his hair, and so began to subdue him. And his strength left him.

20 Then she called, “Samson, the Philistines are upon you!”

He awoke from his sleep and thought, “I’ll go out as before and shake myself free.” But he did not know

that the LORD had left him.

21 Then the Philistines seized him, gouged out his eyes and took him down to Gaza. Binding him with

bronze shackles, they set him to grinding grain in the prison. 22 But the hair on his head began to grow

again after it had been shaved.

The Death of Samson
23 Now the rulers of the Philistines assembled to offer a great sacrifice to Dagon their god and to

celebrate, saying, “Our god has delivered Samson, our enemy, into our hands.”

24 When the people saw him, they praised their god, saying,

“Our god has delivered our enemy

into our hands,

the one who laid waste our land

and multiplied our slain.”

25 While they were in high spirits, they shouted, “Bring out Samson to entertain us.” So they called

Samson out of the prison, and he performed for them.

When they stood him among the pillars, 26 Samson said to the servant who held his hand, “Put me where I

can feel the pillars that support the temple, so that I may lean against them.” 27 Now the temple was

crowded with men and women; all the rulers of the Philistines were there, and on the roof were about

three thousand men and women watching Samson perform. 28 Then Samson prayed to the LORD,

“Sovereign LORD, remember me. Please, God, strengthen me just once more, and let me with one blow

get revenge on the Philistines for my two eyes.” 29 Then Samson reached toward the two central pillars on

which the temple stood. Bracing himself against them, his right hand on the one and his left hand on the

other, 30 Samson said, “Let me die with the Philistines!” Then he pushed with all his might, and down

came the temple on the rulers and all the people in it. Thus he killed many more when he died than while

he lived.

64

31 Then his brothers and his father’s whole family went down to get him. They brought him back and

buried him between Zorah and Eshtaol in the tomb of Manoah his father. He had led Israel twenty years.

2 Samuel 11 (NIV)

David and Bathsheba

11 In the spring, at the time when kings go off to war, David sent Joab out with the king’s men and the
whole Israelite army. They destroyed the Ammonites and besieged Rabbah. But David remained in

Jerusalem.

2 One evening David got up from his bed and walked around on the roof of the palace. From the roof he

saw a woman bathing. The woman was very beautiful, 3 and David sent someone to find out about her.

The man said, “She is Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam and the wife of Uriah the Hittite.”4 Then David

sent messengers to get her. She came to him, and he slept with her. (Now she was purifying herself from

her monthly uncleanness.) Then she went back home. 5 The woman conceived and sent word to David,

saying, “I am pregnant.”

6 So David sent this word to Joab: “Send me Uriah the Hittite.” And Joab sent him to David. 7 When

Uriah came to him, David asked him how Joab was, how the soldiers were and how the war was going. 8

Then David said to Uriah, “Go down to your house and wash your feet.” So Uriah left the palace, and a

gift from the king was sent after him. 9 But Uriah slept at the entrance to the palace with all his master’s

servants and did not go down to his house.

10 David was told, “Uriah did not go home.” So he asked Uriah, “Haven’t you just come from a military

campaign? Why didn’t you go home?”

11 Uriah said to David, “The ark and Israel and Judah are staying in tents, and my commander Joab and

my lord’s men are camped in the open country. How could I go to my house to eat and drink and make

love to my wife? As surely as you live, I will not do such a thing!”

12 Then David said to him, “Stay here one more day, and tomorrow I will send you back.” So Uriah

remained in Jerusalem that day and the next. 13 At David’s invitation, he ate and drank with him, and

David made him drunk. But in the evening Uriah went out to sleep on his mat among his master’s

servants; he did not go home.

14 In the morning David wrote a letter to Joab and sent it with Uriah. 15 In it he wrote, “Put Uriah out in

front where the fighting is fiercest. Then withdraw from him so he will be struck down and die.”

16 So while Joab had the city under siege, he put Uriah at a place where he knew the strongest defenders

were. 17 When the men of the city came out and fought against Joab, some of the men in David’s army

fell; moreover, Uriah the Hittite died.

18 Joab sent David a full account of the battle. 19 He instructed the messenger: “When you have finished

giving the king this account of the battle, 20 the king’s anger may flare up, and he may ask you, ‘Why did

you get so close to the city to fight? Didn’t you know they would shoot arrows from the wall? 21 Who

killed Abimelek son of Jerub-Besheth? Didn’t a woman drop an upper millstone on him from the wall, so

that he died in Thebez? Why did you get so close to the wall?’ If he asks you this, then say to him,

‘Moreover, your servant Uriah the Hittite is dead.’”

22 The messenger set out, and when he arrived he told David everything Joab had sent him to say. 23 The

messenger said to David, “The men overpowered us and came out against us in the open, but we drove

65

them back to the entrance of the city gate. 24 Then the archers shot arrows at your servants from the wall,

and some of the king’s men died. Moreover, your servant Uriah the Hittite is dead.”

25 David told the messenger, “Say this to Joab: ‘Don’t let this upset you; the sword devours one as well as

another. Press the attack against the city and destroy it.’ Say this to encourage Joab.”

26 When Uriah’s wife heard that her husband was dead, she mourned for him.27 After the time of

mourning was over, David had her brought to his house, and she became his wife and bore him a son. But

the thing David had done displeased the LORD.

1 Kings 11 (NIV)

Solomon’s Wives

11 King Solomon, however, loved many foreign women besides Pharaoh’s daughter—Moabites,
Ammonites, Edomites, Sidonians and Hittites. 2 They were from nations about which the LORD had told

the Israelites, “You must not intermarry with them, because they will surely turn your hearts after their

gods.” Nevertheless, Solomon held fast to them in love. 3 He had seven hundred wives of royal birth and

three hundred concubines, and his wives led him astray. 4 As Solomon grew old, his wives turned his heart

after other gods, and his heart was not fully devoted to the LORD his God, as the heart of David his father

had been. 5 He followed Ashtoreth the goddess of the Sidonians, and Molek the detestable god of the

Ammonites. 6 So Solomon did evil in the eyes of the LORD; he did not follow the LORD completely, as

David his father had done.

7 On a hill east of Jerusalem, Solomon built a high place for Chemosh the detestable god of Moab, and for

Molek the detestable god of the Ammonites.8 He did the same for all his foreign wives, who burned

incense and offered sacrifices to their gods.

9 The LORD became angry with Solomon because his heart had turned away from the LORD, the God of

Israel, who had appeared to him twice. 10 Although he had forbidden Solomon to follow other gods,

Solomon did not keep the LORD’s command. 11 So the LORD said to Solomon, “Since this is your attitude

and you have not kept my covenant and my decrees, which I commanded you, I will most certainly tear

the kingdom away from you and give it to one of your subordinates. 12 Nevertheless, for the sake of David

your father, I will not do it during your lifetime. I will tear it out of the hand of your son. 13 Yet I will not

tear the whole kingdom from him, but will give him one tribe for the sake of David my servant and for the

sake of Jerusalem, which I have chosen.”

66

References

“Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.” Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Pearl, and Sir Orfeo. trans. J.R.R.

Tolkien. New York: Ballantine Books, 1975. 23-121. Print.

“David and Bathsheba.” Bible Gateway. 2010. Zondervan Corporation, L.L.C., 1995. Web. 12 Sept 2014.

.

“The Fall.” Bible Gateway. 2010. Zondervan Corporation, L.L.C., 1995. Web. 12 Sept 2014.

.

“Samson and Delilah.” Bible Gateway. 2010. Zondervan Corporation, L.L.C., 1995. Web. 12 Sept 2014.

.

“Solomon’s Wives.” Bible Gateway. 2010. Zondervan Corporation, L.L.C., 1995. Web. 12 Sept 2014.

.

SIR GAWAIN

AND THE GREEN KNIGHT

A NEW VERSE TRANSLATION

W. W. NORTON & COMPANY, INC

.

also publishes

THE NORTON ANTHOLOGY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE
edited by M. H. Abrams et al.

THE NORTON ANTHOLOGY OF POETRY
edited by Arthur M. Eastman et al.

WORLD MASTERPIECES
edited by Maynard Mack et al.

THE NORTON READER
edited by Arthur M. Eastman et al.

THE NORTON FACSIMILE OF

THE FIRST FOLIO OF SHAKESPEARE
prepared by Charlton Hinman

and the NORTON CRITICAL EDITIONS

SIR GAWAIN
AND THE GREEN KNIGHT

A NEW VERSE TRANSLATION

by
MARIE BORROFF

YALE UNIVERSITY

W · W · NORTON & COMPANY · INC · New York

COPYRIGHT @ 1967 BY W. W. NORTON & COMPANY, INC.

Library of Congress Catalog Card No. 67·16601

All Rights Reserved

Published simultaneously in Canada by

George J. McLeod Limited, Toronto

ISBN 0 393 04220 0 Cloth Edition
ISBN 0 393 097 54 4 Paper Edition

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Contents

Introduction

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

The Metrical Form

Reading Suggestions

VII

Introduction

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, in its original Middle English
form, is recognized as a literary work of the highest quality. Yet it
has been known to us for only a hundred years, and it remains
largely inaccessible to the nonspecialist because of the difficulty of
its language, a language far more remote from the English of the
present than that of Geoffrey Chaucer’s London.

Gawain first turns up in modern history in a manuscript belong­
ing to the library of the great an tiquarian of Elizabethan times, Sir
Robert Cotton. Cotton, in turn, seems to have obtained the manu­
script from a library in Yorkshire; this is not surprising, for the
Gawain poet must have lived somewhere in the Midlands of England,
probably near present-day Stafford. He was a contemporary of
Chaucer’s, but there is little likelihood that Chaucer ever heard of
him or knew his works.

The single manuscript in which Gawain is found contains three
other poems generally considered to be the work of the Gawain
poet. Two of these, called Patience and Purity, are written in the
same alliterative verse-form as Gawain; the third, called Pearl, is in
an elaborate rhymed stanza. Patience tells the story of Jonah and the
whale, moralized as a lesson in submission to God’s will; Purity is
a loosely organized series of stories from the Bible and reflections
on the virtue ( “cleanness” in the Middle English) which its title
denotes. Pearl is a dream-vision in which the narrator, stricken by
the loss of the daughter that had been his pearl of great price and
willfully rebellious against the faith he intellectually accepts, is led
by the Pearl-maiden to a state of comparative reconciliation.

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight is an Arthurian romance; the
plot of the poem, with its elements of the supernatural and of
amorous in trigue, reflects both in its main outlines and in the
handling of its descriptive details the treatment that the originally
Celtic Arthurian legends had recei,·ed at the hands of such
medieval French poets as Chretien de Troyes. As a late fourteenth­
century poem, Gawain is a product of the end of the Middle Ages.
The ideal of knightly conduct-of courage, loyalty, and courtesy­
against which the poem’s action is to be viewed was a long-estab­
lished, though still viable, ideal, which had become subject to super­
ficial acceptance and even satirical treatment. It may legitimately be
compared to the Boy Scout ideal of conduct, similarly viable and

vii

viii Introduction

similarly subject to ridicule, in our century.
The main story elements of which the plot of Gawain is com­

posed derive ultimately from folklore, but the poet himself prob­
ably encountered them in French or Latin literary versions, and he
was surely the first to combine them. The opening action of the
poem retells the story of the “Beheading Game” ( traditionally

so

called ) , in which an unknown challenger proposes that one of a
group of warriors volunteer to cut off his head, the stroke to be
repa id in kind at some future date; the hero accepts this challenge,
and at the crucial moment of reprisal is spared and praised for his
courage. Later action incorporates the “Temptation S tory,” in which
an attractive woman attempts to seduce a man under circumstances
in which he is bound to resist her, and the “Exchange of Win­
nings,” in which two men agree to exchange what each has ac­
quired during a set period of time. In the plot of Gawain these three
stories are intricately linke d : the hero, having contracted to accept
a presumably mortal return stroke from the Green Knight’s ax, sets
out to meet him, as instructed, at the Green Chapel on New Year’s
Day. lie is unable to find out where the Green Chapel is; instead,
he comes upon a magnificent castle where he is sumptuously enter­
tained, and later induced by his host to enter on an agreemen t to
exchange winnings at the end of each of three successive days. The
host’s beautiful wife visits his bedchamber on each of the three
mornings and makes amorous overtures toward him; he finally ac­
cepts from her, and conceals, a green girdle said to have the power
of making its wearer invulnerable. All these plots are resolved at
once in the last part of the poem as Sir Gawain and the Green
Knight meet once more. \Vhen the poem ends, the most honored
knight in the world, famed alike as a courageous warrior and a
courteous lover, is proved fallible. His faulty act includes cowardice,
since it was brought about by fear of death; covetousness, since it
involved the desire to possess a valuable object; and treachery, since
it resulted in a breach of faith with the host whose liegeman Gawain
had sworn himself to be. To these shortcomings the poet amusingly
adds a breach of courtesy as he makes this world-famed lover of
women lapse momentarily into the sort of antifeminist tirade that
was familiar to the medieval audience.

The Gawain poet, a master of juxtapositions, has constructed from
these separable story clements a whole far greater than the sum of
its parts. The castle in which Sir Gawain is entertained is vividly
real; its architecture is in the latest continental style, its court is
elegant and gay; its comfortable accommodations and sumptuous
fare arc as welcome as those of a modern luxury hotel. Yet it is also
the mysterious castle that has appeared out of nowhere, shining and
shimmering like a mirage, in direct response to Gawain’s prayer to

Introduction ix

the Virgin on Christmas Eve, and it is a way-station on the road to
certain death. This shadow hangs over the Christmas festivities, into
whose blithe spirit the knight enters as fully as courtesy obliges him
to do, and over the high comedy of the bedchamber scenes, in which
he must not only refuse the lady’s advances, but must manage to do
so without insulting her. There is a profound psychological truth
in the fact that he passes all these tests successfully and at the same
time fails the most important one of all: the most dangerous temp­
tation is that which presents itself unexpectedly, as a side issue,
while we are busy resisting another. Gawain accepts the belt because
he recognizes in it a marvelously appropriate device for evading
imminent danger, “a jewel for his jeopardy.” At the same time, his
act may well seem a way of granting the importunate lady a final
fa,·or while evading her amorous invitation. Its full meaning as a
cowardly, and hence covetous, grasping at life is revealed to him
only later, and with stunning force.

To all this the poet has added three magnificently depicted hunt­
ing scenes in which the host, on the three successive days of
Gawain’s temptation, pursues the deer, the boar, and the fox. It is
obvious that these episodes arc thematic parallels with the bed­
chamber scenes, where Gawain is on the defensive and the lady
figures as an entrapping huntress, and the relation between the final
hunt of the fox and Gawain’s ill-fated ruse in concealing the belt is
equally apparent. These values arc, as it were, inherent in the very
presence of the three hunts in the poem, but the poet has also, by
his handling of them, added to the dramatic effect of the successive
episodes of the narrative. Each hunt is divided in two, enclosing the
bedchamber scene of that day like the two halves of a pod. As each
one opens, it presents a picture of vigorous, unhampered, and joy­
ous activity, with the host as the central figure dominating the ac­
tion. From each of these openings we move suddenly to the bed
surrounded by curtains, where noise is hushed and space is confined.
:\’othing could more enhance our sympathetic identification with
the hero, whose scope of action is as hedged about morally and
socially as it is physically. Each encounter between knight and lady
is followed by the conclusion of the corresponding hunt, scenes of
carnage and ceremonial butchery which come with all the logic of
a violent dream after dutiful constraints.

The “meaning” of the hunting scenes, finally, must be judged in
terms of our experience of them, an experience in which perhaps
the most salient quality is that of sheer deligh t : the joy inherent in
physical sport at its best, when a demanding physical activity is
carried on with skill, in fine weather, among loyal companions. This
joy, though innocent, is of the body, bringing into play that aspect
of man in which he is one with all animals. The narrator’s keen

x Introduction

sense of this joy is a part of his love of the physical world, a love
manifest also in his knowledge of and delight in “all trades, their
gear and tackle and trim,” and in that sympathy with animals which
leads him to adopt sympathetically the point of view of the hunted
creatures and to imagine the suffering inflicted by wind and sleet
upon the wild things of the forest. Insofar as we arc made to share
this attitude we are placed on the side of mortality itself, and can
thus, with the Green Knight, forgive Gawain for his single act of
cowardice : what he did was done not out of sensual lust but for love
of life-“the less, then, to blame.” In the context of this affectionate
sympathy, Gawain’s own violent anger at the revelation of his fault
must itself be viewed with amusement, as part of his human fallibility.
Yet the underlying moral is serious; the pride implicit in accepting
one’s own reputation has been humbled; the lesson Gawain has been
taught applies a fortiori to the court of which he is the most honored
representative and, by further extension, to all men.

The style of the poem is as traditional as the story elements mak­
ing up its plot, to a degree that creates disconcerting problems for
the translator. \Vhercas the contemporary reader looks to the con­
temporary poet for verbal originality and innovation, the medieval
audience was accustomed to a poetry made up of traditional for­
mulas, a diction and phraseology whose effectiveness resided in time­
honored familiarity rather than the capacity to startle. And whereas
+he contemporary poet tends to avoid the overt expression of emo­
tions and moral judgments, the stylistic tradition represented by
Sir Gawain and the Green Knight calls for the frequent use of such
explicitly qualitative adjectives as noble, worthy, lovely, courteous,
and-perhaps most frequent of ali-good. These adjectives may be
used frequently and freely because, within the traditional world por­
trayed in this poetic style, knights are inevitably noble and worthy,
ladies lovely, servants courteous, and indeed everything, aside from
monsters and villainous churls, ideally good.

The formulaic style of Gawain cannot be discussed apart from
the alliterative verse-form in which it is composed, a form which
has fallen into disuse since the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries,
although the language today lends itself equally well to its require­
ments. The alliterative tradition in Middle English is descended,
with gradual modification reflecting changes in the language i tself,
from the alliterative tradition in Old English poetry, and this in
turn is a Germanic heritage, going back to a very early body of
heroic legends recited in verse while the people of the Germanic
nation was still a single cultural entity in northwest Europe. The
presence of a large stock of alliterating formulas in modern English,
expressions like “good as gold,” “the lay of the land,” “the worse
for wear,” “to look to one’s laurels,” is surely connected ‘in some way

with this lost poetic inheritance.

Introduction xi

As its name implies, the alliterating line is based on combinations
of words (basically three in each line, but see the Appendix, pp.

5

5

ff. ) beginning with the same letter. Since the traditional style in
which alliterative poetry was composed was originally developed for
the recounting of heroic legends, its word-stock includes numerous
synonyms expressing such meanings, important for this subject mat­
ter, as “hero,” “steed,” “sword,” “chieftain,” and “battle,” as well
as qualitative adjectives having such meanings as “bold,” “strong,”
and “resolute.” As the alliterative style came to be used to treat the
subject matter of the Romances, new groups of words were added,
nouns for reference to ladies and adjectives meaning “beautiful,”
“gracious,” “courteous,” “gay.” There were also numerous verbs to
denote such important actions as riding, looking, and speaking.
Since each word in a given group began with a different letter, the
stock vocabulary, as well as the traditional phrases, constituted an
important technical resource in the hands ofihe accomplished poet.
\Ve can view the Gawain poet, for example, as solving the problem
of combining two nonallitcrating nouns by using an alliterating
adjective, as when he speaks of “a shield and a sharp spear” ( 269),
or “the girdle of green silk” ( 203 5).

The style of alliterative poetry is in its origins a style in which
the narrator, as he tells a known story, distributes praise and blame
to their appropriate recipien ts. In the oldest heroic poetry, the func­
tions of narrator and historian are combined, and both narrator and
historian confirm the virtues and preserve in the memory of the
people the valorous feats of “our mm.” Ethical values are unques­
tioned and the tone is solemn . But Gawain is a poem composed
late in the tradition of the chivalric romance, and it is a poem of
the highest moral, as well as social, sophistication, in which both
courage and courtesy arc subject to test. The narrator’s traditional
role has not altered outwardly; he applies in the time-honored way
the time-honored words of praise. lie is thus literally the spokesman
for the reputation of the knights of King Arthur’s court, the repu­
tation which has drawn the Green Knight to Camelot. But arc their
virtues literary or real? Though the narrator’s manner :is dignified
and reassuring, the story he has to tell is not, and behind his un­
failing poli teness we feel that he is richly conscious of the degree of
humiliation inflicted upon the assembled court by its obstreperous
visitor, of Gawain’s exquisite physical and social unease as he chats
with the lovely lady sitting on the side of his bed. Again, is Gawain
a storybook lover or is he capable of dealing adequately with the
real thing? The lady continually and disconcertingly suggests that
he is the former. In the mouth of the narrator of Sir Gawain and
the Green Knight, the stock words and phrases become implements

xii Introduction

in the production of an effect that is difficult to describe, though
easy to feel; they may take on a hollow sound or a ttract insidiously
inappropriate meanings, as when the adjective stiff, which had in
Middle English the poetic meaning “resolute” as well as its most
usual modern meaning, is applied to the young King Arthur as he
boyishly insists on waiting until he has seen a marvel before he
joins the feast. (I have tried to produce something of the same effect
by using the equally ambiguous word stout.)

It has seemed to me that a modern verse-translation of Sir Gawain
and the Green Knight must fulfill certain requirements deriving
from the na ture of the original style. First, it must so far as possible
preserve the formulaic character of the language. This not infre­
quently involves repetition of wording within the poem itself; for
example, the poet uses the same phrase in describing the original
entrance and exit of the Green Knight, and the translator ought to
do the same; the poem opens and closes with much the same word­
ing; there are verbal reminiscences of the original beheading scene
in the episode at the Green Chapel, and so on. B ut beyond this, the
style of the translation must, if possible, have something of the ex­
pectedness of the language of the fairy tale, with its “handsome
princes” and “beautiful princesses,” its opening “once upon a time”
and its closing “they lived happily ever after”-though any sugges­
tion of whimsy or quaintness in so adult and sophisticated a literary
work would be, to say the least, out of place. In trying to meet this
condition I have incorporated into the translation as many as pos­
sible of the form ulas still current in the language. The reader will
recognize such phrases as “tried and true,” “winsome ways,” “hot on
his heels,” and others; these have, I think, served my turn well,
though many such phrases were too restricted in use to the realm of
colloquial speech to be suitable in tone.

Second, the diction of the translation m ust, so far as possible, re­
flect that of the original poem. The traditional style as it appears in
late Middle English embraces a wide range of kinds of words, from
strictly poetic terms comparable in status to wherefore or in sooth
today to words used primarily in the ordinary speech of the time,
many of which have not descended into the modern language. But
the style does not juxtapose discordant elements of diction for
humorous effect, as the poetry of Ogden Nash, for example, does
today. The level varies, but with subtle shifts of tone from solem­
nity to realistic vigor. I began the translation with the general notion
that since the poet used words which were poetic in his time I
could do the same, but I realized after a time that I was using such
words where the original was colloquial, and that in any case the
connotations of poetic diction for us have crucially altered. I finally
used literary words only where it seemed to me that their effect was

Introduction xiii

unobtrusive, and I similarly made usc of distinctively colloquial
words where I felt that the resultant effect was similar to that of
the original. My translation thus includes both the archaic lo! and
the colloquial swap (which is in the original ) , and I have tried to
imitate the poet in modulating from one level to the other, avoiding,
at one extreme, a pseudo-medieval quaintness, and, at the other, an
all too homely familiarity.

Finally, a modern translation of Sir Gawain must, so far as pos­
sible, reproduce both the metrical variety of the original and its
cumulative momen tum or “swing.” This aspect of the poem is dis­
cussed in some detail in the Appendix on meter, pp.

55

ff.

Like all translators of poetry, I ha,·c been faced with the basic
difficulty of reproducing the sense of the poem in lines which satisfy
the requirements of metrical form and, beyond this, arc effective as
rhythmic combinations of words. Like all translators of poetry, I
have constantly had to compromise, sometimes forced away from
literal rendition by the exigencies of the meter, sometimes foregoing
an attractive phrase or cadence for the sake of a more faithful rendi­
tion, sometimes, I hope, finding myself able to have it both ways. I
have tried to follow the poet as much in what he does not say as in
what he does say, refraining from explicitness where he leads the
reader, tantalizingly, to surmise. And I have done my best during the
entire process of translation to attend carefully and respectfully to
the exact sense of the poem at every turn, though I have inevi tably
had at times to decide what was essential in a given line-what must
be literally reproduced at all costs-and to content myself with sub­
stitutes, hopefully of equivalent value, for the rest. \Vhere I have
been forced to deviate from the original, I have sometimes made the
pleasurable discovery that in changing one line I have echoed an­
other elsewhere in the poem.

I believe that I have in the end produced a translation more like
the original than the others I have seen, though the success of the
translation as a modern poem is for its readers to judge. I t must
inevitably fall short of the great achievement of the Gawain poet,
but, like the page in the Christmas carol, I have continually found
wa rmth and strength in treading in his footsteps.

New Haven, Connecticut
December, 1966

MARIE BoRROFF

Acknowledgments

My first and abiding debt is to the late Professor Helge Kokeritz, and
to Professors John C. Pope and E . Talbot Donaldson, who taught me
Old and l\1iddle English and the history of the English language and
thus made this undertaking possible. That all three were teaching in
the Graduate School of Yale University when I studied there was
my great good fortune.

Professors Pope and Donaldson have made valuable criticisms,
suggestions, and corrections and have given me even m ore valuable
moral support. I am indebted to Mrs. Susan S. Addiss for her expert
typing of the manuscript, and to Mrs. Addiss and Miss Anne M .
Case for help with proofreading.

M. B.

SIR GAWAIN
AND THE GREEN KNIGHT
A NEW VERSE TRANSLATION

Part I

Since the siege and the assault was ceased at Troy,I
The walls breached and burnt down to brands and ashes,
The knight that had knotted the nets of deceit
\Vas impeached for his perfidy, proven most true,
It was high-born Aeneas and his haughty race
That since prevailed over provinces, and proudly reigned
Over well-nigh all the wealth of the West Isles.
Great Romulus to Rome repairs in haste;
With boast and with bravery builds he that city
And names it with his own name, that it now bears.
Ticius to Tuscany, and towers raises,
Langobard in Lombardy lays out homes,
And far over the French Sea, Felix Brutus
On many broad hills and high Britain he sets,

most fair.
Where war and wrack and wonder
By shifts have sojourned there,
And bliss bv turns with blunder
In that land’s lot had share.

And since this Britain was built by this baron great,
Bold boys bred there, in broils delighting,
That did in their day many a deed most dire.
More marvels have happened in this merry land
Than in any other I know, since that olden time,
But of those that here built, of British kings,
King Arthur was counted most courteous of all,
\Vherefore an adventure I aim to unfold,
That a marvel of might some men think it,
And one unmatched among Arthur’s wonders.
If you will listen to my lay but a little while,
As I heard it in hall, I shall hasten to tell

anew.
As it was fashioned featly
In tale of derring-do,
And linked in measures meetly
By letters tried and true.

10

IS

20

25

30

35

I. The poet begins his story, as he later
ends it, by placing the reign of King
Arthur in a broad historical perspective
which includes the fall of Troy. In ac­
cordance with medieval notions of his­
tory (though not all of his details can
be found in the early chronicles), he
visualizes Aeneas, son of the king of
Troy, and his descendants, as founding
a series of western kingdoms to which
each gives his name. This westward
movement ends with the crossing of the

“French Sea” or British Channel, by
Brutus, great-grandson of Aeneas, leg­
endary founder of the kingdom of
Britain. This Brutus, whom the poet
calls felix or fortunate, is not to be
confused with the Marcus Brutus of
Roman history. The deceitful knight of
lines 3-4 is evidently Antenor, who in
Virgil’s Aeneid is a trusted counselor,
but who appears as a traitor in later
versions of the Troy story.

2 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

This king lay at Camelot at Christmastide;
Many good knights and gay his guests were there,
Arrayed of the Round Table rightful brothers,
\Vith feasting and fellowship and carefree mirth.
There true men contended in tournaments many,
Joined there in jousting these gentle knights,
Then came to the court for carol-dancing,
For the feast was in force full fifteen days,
\Vith all the meat and the mirth that men could devise,
Such gaiety and glee, glorious to hear,
Brave din by day, dancing by night.
High were their hearts in halls and chambers,
These lords and these ladies, for life was sweet.
In peerless pleasures passed they their days,
The most noble knights known under Christ,
And the loveliest ladies that lived on earth ever,
And he the comeliest king, that that court holds,
For all this fair folk in their first age

were still.
Happiest of mortal kind,
King noblest famed of will;
You would now go far to find
So hardy a host on hill.

\Vhile the New Year was new, but yesternight come,
This fair folk at feast two-fold was served,
\Vhen the king and his company were come in together,
The chanting in chapel achieved and ended.
Clerics and all the court acclaimed the glad season,
Cried Noel anew, good news to men;
Then gallants gather gaily, hand-gifts to make,
Called them out clearly, claimed them by hand,
Bickered long and busily about those gifts.
Ladies laughed aloud, though losers they were,
And he that won was not angered, as well you will know.
All this mirth they made until meat was served;
When they had washed them worthily, they went to their seats,
The best seated above, as best it beseemed,
Guenevcre the goodly queen gay in the midst
On a dais well-decked and duly arrayed
With costly silk curtains, a canopy over,
Of Toulouse and Turkestan tapestries rich,
All broidered and bordered with the best gems
Ever brought into Britain, with bright pennies

to pay.
Fair queen, without a flaw,
She glanced with eyes of grey.
A seemlier that once he saw,
In truth, no man could say.

But Arthur would not eat till all were served;

40

45

so
55

6o

6s

70

75

So

Bs

So light was his lordly heart, and a li ttle boyish;
His life he liked lively-the less he cared
To be lying for long, or long to sit,
So busy his young blood, his brain so wild.
And also a point of pride pricked him in heart,
For he nobly had willed, he would never cat
On so high

·
a holiday, till he had heard first

Of some fair feat or fray some far-borne talc,
Of some marvel of might, that he might trust,
By champions of chivalry achieved in arms,
Or some suppliant came seeking some single knight
To join with him in jousting, in jeopardy each
To lay life for life, and leave it to fortune
To afford him on field fair hap or other.
Such is the king’s custom, when his court he holds
At each far-famed feast amid his fair host

so dear.
The stout king stands in state
Till a wonder shall appear;
He leads, with heart elate,
High mirth in the New Year.

So he stands there in state, the stout young king,
Talking before the high table of trifles fair.
There Gawain the good knight by Gucnevcre sits,
\Vith Agravain a Ia dure main on her other side,
Both knights of renown, and nephews of the king.
Bishop Baldwin above begins the table,
And Yvain, son of Urien, ate with him there.
These few with the fair queen were fittingly served;
At the side-tables sat many stalwart knights.

Part I

Then the first course comes, with clamor of trumpets
That were bravely bedecked with banncrcts bright,
\Vith noise of new drums and the noble pipes.
Wild were the warbles that wakened that day
In strains that stirred many strong men’s hearts.
There dainties were dealt out, dishes rare,
Choice fare to choose, on chargers so many
That scarce was there space to set before the people
The service of silver, with sundry meats,

on cloth.
Each fair guest freely there
Partakes, and nothing loth;
Twelve dishes before each pair;
Good beer and bright wine both .

Of the service itself I need sav no more,
For well you will know no tittle was wanting.
Another noise and a new was well-nigh at hand,
That the lord might have leave his life to nourish;
For scarce were th e sweet strains still in the hall,

3

90

9 5

1 00

l o S

1 1 0

1 1 5

120

1 2 5

I JO

4 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

And the first course come to that company fair,
There hurtles in at the hall-door an unknown rider,
One the greatest on ground in growth of his frame :
From broad neck t o buttocks so bulkv and thick,
And his loins and his legs so long and so great,
Half a giant on earth I hold him to be,
But believe him no less than the largest of men,
And that the seemliest in his stature to see, as he rides,
For in back and in breast though his body was grim,
His waist in its wid th was worthily small,
And formed with everv feature in

·
fair accord

·

was he.
Great wonder grew in hall
At his hue most strange to see,
For man and gear and all
Were green as green could be.

And in guise all of green, the gear and the man :
A coat cut close, that clung to his sides,
And a mantle to match, made with a lining
Of furs cut and fitted-the fabric was noble,
Embellished all \vith ermine, and his hood beside,
That \vas loosed from his locks, and laid on his shoulders.
\Vith trim hose and tight, the same tint of green,
IIis great calves were girt, and gold spurs under
He bore on silk bands that embellished his heels,
And footgear well-fashioned, for riding most fit.
And all his vesture verily was verdant green;
Both the bosses on his belt and other bright gems
That were richly ranged on his raiment noble
About himself and his saddle, set upon silk,
That to tell half the trifles would tax mv wits,
The butterflies and birds embroidered thereon
In green of the gayest, with many a gold threa d.
The pendants of the breast-band, the princely crupper,
And the bars of the bit were brightly enameled;
The stout stirrups were green, that steadied his feet,
And the bows of the saddle and the side-panels both,
That gleamed all and glinted with green gems about.
The steed he bestrides of that same green

so bright .
A green horse great a n d thick;
A headstrong steed of might;
I n broidered bridle quick,
Moun t matched man aright .

Gay was this goodly m a n in guise a l l o f green,
And the hair of his head to his horse suited;
Fair flowing tresses enfold his shoulders;
A beard big as a bush on his breast hangs,
That with h is heavy hair, that from his head falls,

IJS

1 4 0

14S

150

ISS

16o

170

1 7 5

18o

Part I

Was evened all about above both his elbows,
That half his arms thereunder were hid in the fashion
Of a king’s cap-a-dos,2 that covers his throat.
The mane of that mighty horse much to it like,
Well curled and bccombed, and cunningly knotted
With filaments of fine gold amid the fair green,
Here a strand of the hair, here one of gold;
His tail and his foretop hvin in their hue,
And bound both with a band of a bright green
That was decked adown the dock with dazzling stones
And tied tight at the top with a triple knot
Where many bells well burnished rang bright and clear.
Such a mount in his might, nor man on him riding,
None had seen, I dare swear, with sight in that hall

so grand.
As lightning quick and light
He looked to all at hand;
It seemed that no man might
His deadly dints withstand.

Yet had he no helm, nor hauberk neither,
Nor plate, nor appurtenance appending to arms,
Nor shaft pointed sharp, nor shield for defense,
But in his one hand he had a holly bob
That is goodliest in green when groves arc bare,
And an ax in his other, a huge and immense,
A wicked piece of work in words to expoun d :
The head o n its haft was an ell long;
The spike of green steel, resplendent with gold;
The blade burnished bright, with a broad edge,
As well shaped to shear as a sharp razor;
Stout was the stave in the strong man’s gripe,
That was wound all with iron to the weapon’s end,
With engravings in green of goodliest work.
A lace lightly about, that led to a knot,
Was looped in by lengths along the fair haft,
And tassels thereto attached in a row,
With buttons of bright green, brave to behold.
This horseman h urtles in, and the hall enters;
Riding to the high dais, reeked he no danger;
Not a greeting he gave as the guests he o’erlooked,
Nor wasted his words, but “Where is,” he said,
“The captain of this crowd? Keenly I wish
To see that sire with sight, and to himself say

my say.”
He swaggered all about
To scan the host so gay;

5

1 85

1 9 5

2 0 0

20 5

2 1 0

2 1 5

220

2. The word capados occurs in this
form in Middle English only in Gawain,
here and in line 5 72. I have interpreted
it, as the poet apparently did also, as

cap-a-dos-i.e., a garment covering its
wearer ‘from head to back,’ on the
model of cap-a-pie, ‘from head to foot,

‘

referring to armor.

6 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

He halted, as if in doubt 230
Who in that hall held sway.

There were stares on all sides as the stranger spoke,
For much did they marvel what it might mean
That a horseman and a horse should have such a hue,
Grow green as the grass, and greener, it seemed, 2 3 5
Than green fused on gold more glorious by far.
All the onlookers eyed him, and edged nearer,
And awaited in wonder what he would do,
For many sights had they seen, but such a one never,
So that phantom and faerie the folk there deemed it, 240
Therefore chary of answer was many a champion bold,
And stunned at his strong words stone-still they sat
In a swooning silence in the stately hall.
As all were slipped into sleep, so slackened their speech

apace. 245
Not all, I think, for dread,
But some of courteous grace
Let him who was their head
Be spokesman in that place.

Then Arthur before the high dais that entrance beholds, 2 5o
And hailed him, as behooved, for he had no fear,
And said “Fellow, in faith you have found fair welcome;
The head of this hostelry Arthur am I;
Leap lightly dmm, and linger, I pray,
And the tale of your intent you shall tell us after.” •55
“Nay, so help me,” said the other, “He that on high sits,
To tarry here any time, ’twas not mine errand;
But as the praise of you, prince, is puffed up so high,
And your court and your company are counted the best,
Stoutest under steel-gear on steeds to ride, 26o
\Vorthiest of their works the wide world over,
And peerless to prove in passages of arms,
And courtesy here is carried to its height,
And so at this season I have sought you out.
You may be certain by the branch that I bear in hand 2 65
That I pass here in peace, and would part friends,
For had I come to this court on combat bent,
I have a hauberk at home, and a helm beside,
A shield and a sharp spear, shining bright,
And other weapons to wield, I ween well, to boot, 270
But as I willed no war, I wore no metal .
But if you be so bold as all men believe,
You will graciously grant the game that I ask

by right.”
Arthur answer gave 27 5
And said, “Sir courteous knight,
If contest here you crave,
You shall not fail to fight.”

Part I

“Nay, to fight, in good faith, is far from my thought;
There are about on these benches but beardless children,
Were I here in full arms on a haughty steed,
For measured against mine, their might is puny.
And so I call in this court for a Christmas game,
For ’tis Yule and New Year, and many young bloods about;
If any in this house such hardihood claims,
Be so bold in his blood, his brain so wild,
As stoutly to strike one stroke for another,
I shall give him as my gift this gisarme noble,
This ax, that is heavy enough, to handle as he likes,
And I shall bide the first blow, as bare as I sit.
If there be one so wilful my words to assay,
Let him leap hither lightly, lay hold of this weapon;
I quitclaim it forever, keep it as his own,
And I shall stand him a stroke, steadv on this floor,
So you grant me the guerdon to give

.
him another,

sans blame.
In a twelvemonth and a dav
He shall have of me the same:
Now be it seen straightway
Who dares take up the game.”

If he astonished them at first, stiller were then
All that household in hall, the high and the low;
The stranger on his green steed stirred in the saddle,
And roisterously his red eyes he rolled all about,
Bent his bristling brows, that were bright green,
\Vagged his beard as he watched who would arise.
\Vhen the court kept its counsel he coughed aloud,
And cleared his throat coolly, the clearer to speak :
“\Vhat, is this Arthur’s house,” said that horseman then,
“\Vhose fame is so fair in far realms and wide?
Where is now your arrogance and your awesome deeds,
Your valor and your victories and your vaunting words?
Now are the revel and renown of the Round Table
Overwhelmed with a word of one man’s speech,
For all cower and quake, and no cut fel t ! ”
With this h e laughs s o loud that t h e lord grieved;
The blood for sheer shame shot to his face,

and pride.
With rage his face flushed red,
And so did all beside.
Then the king as bold man bred
Toward the stranger took a stride.

And said “Sir, now we see you will say but folly,
Which whoso has sought, it suits that he find.
No guest here is aghast of your great words.
Give to me your gisarme, in God’s own name,
And the boon you have begged shall straight be granted.”

7

280

290

295

300

305

310

3 1 5

320

325

8 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

He leaps to him lightly, lays hold of his weapon;
The green fellow on foot fiercely alights.
Now has Arthur his ax, and the haft grips,
And sternly stirs it about, on striking bent.
The stranger before him stood there erect,
Higher than any in the house by a head and more;
\Vith stem look as he stood, he stroked his beard,
And with undaunted countenance drew down his coat,
No more moved nor dismayed for his mighty dints
Than any bold man on bench had brought him a drink

of wine.
Gawain bv Guenevere
Toward the king doth now inclin e :
“I beseech, before a l l here,
That this melee mav be mine.”

“\Vould you grant me the grace,” said Gawain to the king,
“To be gone from this bench and stand by you there,
If I without discourtesy migh t quit this board,
And if my liege lady misliked it not.
I would come to your counsel before your court noble.
For I find it not fit, as in faith it is known,
\Vh en such a boon is begged before all these knights,
Though you be tempted thereto, to take it on yourself
\Vhile so bold men about upon benches sit.
That no host under hea\·en is hardier of will,
Nor better brothers-in-arms where battle is joined;
I am the \\·eakest, well I knO\\·, and of wit feeblest;
And the loss of my life would be least of any;
That I have you for uncle is my only praise;
My body. but for your blood, is barren of \mrth;
And for that this folly befits not a king,
And ’tis I that have asked it, it ought to be mine,
And if my claim be not comely let all this court judge,

in sight.”
The court assays the claim,
And in counsel all unite
To give Gawain the game
And release the king outright.

Then the king called the knight to come to his side,
And he rose up readily, and reached him with speed,
Bows low to his lord, lays hold of the weapon,
And he releases it lightly, and lifts up his hand,
And gives him God’s blessing, and graciously prays
l11at his heart and his hand may be hardy both.
“Keep, cousin,” said the king, “what you cut with this day,
And if you rule it aright, then readily, I know,
You shall stand the stroke it will strike after.”
Gawain goes to the guest with gisarme in hand,
And boldly he bides there, abashed not a whit.

330

335

340

345

35 0

355

370

375

Then hails he Sir Gawain, the horseman in green :
“Recount we our contract, ere you come further.
First I ask and adjure you, ho\\: you arc called

Part I 9

That you tell me true, so that trust it I may.” 3so
“In good faith,” said the good knight, “Gawain am I
\Vhose buffet befalls vou, whatc’er betide after,
And at this time twelvemonth take from vou another
With what weapon you will, and with IlO man else

alive.” 3 8 5
The other nods assent :
“Sir Gawain, as I mav thrive,
I am wondrous well content
That vou this dint shall dri,·c.”

”Sir Gawain,” said the Green Knight, “By Gog, I rejoice 39o
That vour fist shall fetch this fa,·or I seek,
And �:ou have readily rehearsed. and in right terms,
Each clause of my co,·enant with the king your lord,
Save that you shall assure me. sir. upon oath,
That vou shall seck me ,·ourself. \\·hcrcsoevcr vou deem .195
i\[y l�dgings may lie, and look for such wages
As \’OU have offered me here before all this host.”
“\Vhat is the wav there?” said Gawain, “\Vhcre do vou dwell?
I heard never of vour house, bv Him that made me,

.

Nor I know you ;10t, knight, �:our name nor your court. 4 00
But tell me truly thereof, and teach me your name,
And I shall fare forth to find ,·ou. so far as I mav,
And this I say in good certain,· and swear upon o�th .”
“That is enough in New Year, you need say no more,”
Said the knight in the green to Gawain the noble, 40 5
“If I tell you true, when I have taken your knock,
And if you handily have hit, you shall hear straightway
Of mv house and mv home and m\· own name;
Then · follow in my footsteps by faithful accord.
And if I spend no speech, you shall speed the better: 4 1 0
You can feast with vour friends, nor further trace ·

mv tracks.
Now hold your grim tool steady
And show us how it hacks.”
“Gladly, sir; all ready,” 4 1 5
Says Gawain: h e strokes the ax.

The Green Knight upon ground girds him with care:
Bows a bit with his head, and bares his flesh:
His long lm·ely locks he laid over his crown,
Let the naked nape for the need be shown. 42o
Gawain grips to his ax and gathers it aloft-
The left foot on the floor before him he set-
Brought it down deftly upon the bare neck,
That the shock of the sharp blow shivered the bones
And cut the flesh cleanly and clove it in twain, 42 5

10 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

That the blade of bright steel bit into the ground.
The head was hewn off and fell to the floor;
Many found it at their feet, as forth it rolled;
The blood gushed from the body, bright on the green,
Yet fell not the fellow, nor faltered a whit,
But stoutly he starts forth upon stiff shanks,
And as all stood staring he stretched forth his hand,
Laid hold of his head and heaved it aloft,
Then goes to the green steed, grasps the bridle,
Steps into the stirrup, bestrides his mount,
And his head by the hair in his han d holds,
And as steadv he sits in the statelv saddle
As he had met with no mishap, nor missing were

his head.
His bulk about he haled,
That fearsome body that bled;
There were many in the court that quailed
Before all his say was said.

For the head in hi5 hand he holds right up;
Toward the first on the dais directs he the face,
And it lifted up its lids, and looked with wide eyes,
And said as much with its mouth as now you may hear:
“Sir Gawain, forget not to go as agreed,
And cease not to seek till me, sir, \’OU find,
As you promised in the presence of these proud knights.
To the Green Chapel come, I charge you, to take
Such a dint as you have dealt-you have well deserved
That your neck should have a knock on New Year’s morn .
The Knigh t of the Green Chapel I am well-known to many,
\Vherefore you cannot fail to find me at last;
Therefore come, or be counted a recreant knight.”
\Vith a roisterous rush he flings round the reins,
Hurtles out at the hall-door, his head in his hand,
That the flint-fire flew from the flashing hooves.
\Vhich way he went, not one of them knew
Nor whence he was come in the wide world

so fair.
The king and Gawain gay
Make game of the Green Knight there,
Yet all who saw it sav
‘Twas a wonder past

‘
compare.

Though high-born Arthur at heart had wonder,
He let no sign be seen, but said aloud
To the comely queen, with courteous speech,
“Dear dame, on this day dismay you no whit;
Such crafts are becoming at Christmastide,
Laughing at interludes, light songs and mirth,
Amid dancing of damsels with doughty knights.
Nevertheless of my meat now let me partake,
For I have met with a marvel, I may not deny.”

430

435

4 40

445

4 5 0

4 5 5

470

475

Part II 11

He glanced a t Sir Gawain, and gaily he said,
“Now, sir, hang up your ax, that has hewn enough,”
And over the high dais it was hung on the wall
That men in amazement might on it look,
And tell in true terms the tale of the wonder. 48o
Then they turned toward the table, these two together,
The good king and Gawain, and made great feast,
\Vith all dainties double, dishes rare,
With all manner of meat and minstrelsy both,
Such happiness wholly had they that day 4 8 5

in hold .
Now take care, Sir Gawain,
That your courage wax not cold
When you must turn again
To your enterprise foretold. 49o

Part II

This adventure had Arthur of handsels first
When young was the year, for he Yearned to hear tales;
Though they wanted for words when they wen t to sup,
Now are fierce deeds to follow, their fists stuffed full.
Gawain was glad to begin those games in hall,
But if the end be harsher, hold it no wonder,
For though men arc merry in mind after much drink,
A year passes apace, and proves ever new :
First things and final conform but seldom.
And so this Yule to the young year yielded place,
And each season ensued at its set time;
After Christmas there came the cold cheer of Lent,
\Vhen with fish and plainer fare our flesh we reprove;
But then the world’s weather with winter contends :
The keen cold lessens, the low clouds lift;
Fresh falls the rain in fostering showers
On the face of the fields; flowers appear.
The ground and the groves wear gowns of green;
Birds build their nests, and blithely sing
That solace of all sorrow with summer comes

ere long.
And blossoms day by day
Bloom rich and rife in throng;
Then every grove so gay
Of the greenwood rings with song.

And then the season of summer with the soft winds,
When Zephyr sighs low over seeds and shoots;
Glad is the green plant growing abroad,
When the dew at dawn drops from the leaves,
To get a gracious glance from the golden sun.
But harvest with harsher winds follows hard after,

495

50 0

5 0 5

s •o

5 1 5

5 2 0

12 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

Warns him to ripen well ere winter comes;
Drives forth the dust in the droughty season,
From the face of the fields to fly high in air.
\Vroth winds in the welkin wrestle with the sun,
The leaves launch from the linden and light on the ground,
And the grass turns to gray, that once grew green .
Then all ripens and rots that rose up at first,
And so the year moves on in yesterdays many,
And winter once more, by the world’s law,

draws nigh.
At Michaelmas the moon
Hangs wintry pale in sky;
Sir Gawain girds him soon
For travails yet to try.

Till All-Hallows’ Dav with Arthur he dwells,
And he held a high ·feast to honor that knight
\Vith great revels and rich, of the Round Table.
Then ladies lovelv and lords debonair
With sorrow for Sir Gawain were sore at heart;
Yet they covered their care with countenance gla d :
Many a mournful man made mirth for his sake.
So after supper soberly he speaks to his uncle
Of the hard hour at hand, and openly says,
“Now, liege lord of my life, my leave I take;
The terms of this task too well vou know-
To count the cost over concern s me nothing.
But I am bound forth betimes to bear a stroke
From the grim man in green, as God may direct.”
Then the first and foremost came forth in throng:
Yvain and Eric and others of note,
Sir Dodinal le Sauvage, the Duke of Clarence,
Lionel and Lancelot and Lucan the good,
Sir Bors and Sir Bedivcre, big men both,
And many manly knights more, with Mador de Ia Porte.
All this courtly company comes to the king
To counsel their comrade, with care in their hearts;
There was much secret sorrow suffered that day
That one so good as Gawain must go in such wise
To bear a bitter blow, and his bright sword

lay by.
He said, “Why should I tarry?”
And smiled \Vith tranquil eye;
“In destinies sad or merrv,
True men can but try.” ‘

He dwelt there all that day, and dressed in the morning;
Asked early for his arms, and all were brought.
First a carpet of rare cost was cast on the floor
Where much goodly gear gleamed golden bright;
He takes his place promptly and picks up the steel,

5 25

5 30

5 3 5

545

550

5 5 5

56o

565

5 70

Attired in a tight coat of Turkestan silk
And a kingly cap-a-dos, closed at the throat,
That was lavishlv lined with a lustrous fur.
Then they set the steel shoes on his sturdy feet
And clad his calves about with comely greaves,
And plate well-polished protected his knees,
Affixed with fastenings of the finest gold.

Part II

Fair cuisses enclosed, that were cunningly wrought,
His thick-thcwed thighs, with thongs bound fast,
And massy chain-mail of many a steel ring
He bore on his body, above the best cloth,
With brace burnished brigh t upon both his arms,
Good couters and gay, and gloves of plate,
And all the goodly gear to grace him well

that tide.
His surcoat blazoned bold;
Sharp spurs to prick with pride;
And a brave silk band to hold
The broadsword at his side.

When he had on his arms, his harness was rich,
The least latchet or loop laden with gold;
So armored as he was, he heard a mass,
Honored God humbly at the high altar.
Then he comes to the king and his comrades-in-arms,
Takes his leave at last of lords and ladies,
And they clasped and kissed him, commending him to Christ.
By then Gringolet was girt with a great saddle
That was gaily agleam with fine gilt fringe,
New-furbished for the need with nail-heads bright;
The bridle and the bars bedecked all with gold;
The breast-plate, the saddlebow, the side-panels both,
The caparison and the crupper accorded in hue,
And all ranged on the red the resplendent studs
That glittered and glowed like the glorious sun.
His helm now he holds up and hastily kisses,
Well-closed with iron clinches, and cushioned within;
It was high on his head, with a hasp behind,
And a covering of cloth to encase the visor,
All bound and embroidered with the best gems
On broad bands of silk, and bordered with birds,
Parrots and popinjays preening their wings,
Lovebirds and love-knots as lavishly wrought
As many women had worked seven winters thereon,

entire.
The diadem costlier yet
That crowned that comelv sire,
With diamonds richly set�
That flashed as if on fire.

13

57 5

sBo

sBs

590

595

6oo

6o s

6ro

6rs

14 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

Then they showed forth the shield, that shone all red,
With the pentangle portrayed in purest gold. 62o
About his broad neck by the baldric he casts it,
That was meet for the man, and matched him well.
And why the pentangle is proper to that peerless prince
I intend now to tell, though detain me it must.
It is a sign by Solomon sagely devised 6 2 5
To be a token of truth, by i ts title of old,
For it is a figure formed of five points,
And each line is linked and locked with the next
For ever and ever, and hence it is called
In all England, as I hear, the endless knot. 6 3 o
And well may he wear i t on his worthy arms,
For ever faithful five-fold in five-fold fashion
Was Gawain in good works, as gold unalloyed,
Devoid of all villainy, with virtues adorned

in sight. 6 3 5
On shield and coat in view
He bore that emblem bright,
As to his word most true
And in speech most courteous knight.

And first, he was faultless in his five senses, 64o
Nor found ever to fail in his five fingers,
And all his fealty was fixed upon the five wounds
That Christ got on the cross, as the creed tells;
And wherever this man in melee took part,
His one thought was of this, past all things else, 645
That all his force was founded on the five joys
That the high Queen of heaven had in her child.
And therefore, as I find, he fittingly had
On the inner part of his shield her image portrayed,
That when his look on it lighted, he never lost heart. 6 5 o
The fifth of the five fives followed by this knight
Were beneficence boundless and brotherly love
And pure mind and manners, that none might impeach,
And compassion most precious-these peerless five
Were forged and made fast in him, foremost of men . 6 5 5
Now all these five fives were confirmed in this knight,
And each linked in other, that end there was none,
And fixed to five points, whose force never failed,
Nor assembled all on a side, nor asunder either,
Nor anywhere at an end, but whole and entire 66o
However the pattern proceeded or played out its course.
And so on his shining shield shaped was the knot
Royally in red gold against red gules,
That is the peerless pentangle, prized of old

in lore. 6 6 5
Now armed is Gawain gay,
And bears his lance before,

And soberly said good day,
He thought forevermore.

Part II 1 5

H e struck his steed with the spurs and sped on his way 67 o
So fast that the flint-fire flashed from the stones.
When they saw him set forth they were sore aggrieved,
And all sighed softly, and said to each other,
Fearing for their fellow, “Ill fortune it is
That you, man, must be marred, that most are worthy! 67 5
His equal on this earth can hardly be found;
To have dealt more discreetly had done less harm,
And have dubbed him a duke, with all due honor.
A great leader of lords he was like to become,
And better so to have been than battered to bits, 68o
Beheaded by an elf-man, for empty pride!
\Vho would credit that a king could be counseled so,
And caught in a cavil in a Ch ristmas game?”
Many were the warm tears they wept from their eyes
When goodly Sir Gawain was gone from the court 685

that dav.
No longer he abode,
But speedily went his way
Over many a wandering road,
As I heard my author say. 6go

Now he rides in his array through the realm of Logres,
Sir Gawain, God knows, though it gave him small joy!
All alone must he lodge through many a long night
Where the food that he fancied was far from his plate;
He had no mate but his mount, over mountain and plain, 69 5
Nor man to say his mind to but almighty God,
Till he had wandered well-nigh into North Wales.
All the islands of Anglesey he holds on his left,
And follows, as he fares, the fords by the coast,
Comes over at Holy Head, and enters next 7 0 0
The Wilderness of \Virral-few were within
That had great good will toward God or man .
And earnestly he asked of each mortal he met
If he had ever heard aught of a knight all green,
Or of a Green Chapel, on ground thereabouts, 705
And all said the same, and solemnly swore
They saw no such knight all solely green

in hue.
Over country wild and strange
The knight sets off anew; 7 1 0
Often his course must change
Ere the Chapel comes in view.

Many a cliff must he climb in country wild;
Far off from all his friends, forlorn must he ride;
At each strand or stream where the stalwart passed 7 1 5

16 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

‘T\vere a marvel if he met not some monstrous foe,
And that so fierce and forbidding that fight he m ust.
So many were the wonders he wandered among
That to tell but the tenth part would tax my wits.
NO\v with serpents he wars, now with savage wolves, 7 2 o
Now with wild men of the woods, that \vatched from the rocks,
Both with bulls and with bears, and with boars besides,
And giants that came gibbering from the jagged steeps.
Had he not borne himself bravely, and been on God’s side,
He had met with many mishaps and mortal harms. 1 2 5
And if the wars were unwelcome, the winter was worse,
\Vhen the cold clear rains rushed from the clouds
And froze before thev could fall to the frosty earth .
Near slain by the sleet he sleeps in his irons
Nlore nights than enough, among naked rocks, 7 3 o
\Vhere clattering from the crest the cold stream ran
And hung in hard icicles high overhead.
Thus in peril and pain and predicaments dire
He rides across countrv till Christmas Eve,

· our knight. 73 5
And a t that holy tide
He prays \vith all his might
That Mary may be his guide
Till a dwelling comes in sight.

By a mountain next morning he makes his way 740
Into a forest fastness, fearsome and wild;
High hills on either hand, with hoar woods below,
Oaks old and h uge by the hundred together.
The hazel and the hawthorn were all intertwined
With rough raveled moss, that raggedly hung, 7 4 5
\Vith many birds unblithe upon bare twigs
That peeped most piteously for pain of the cold.
The good knight on Gringolet glides thereunder
Through many a marsh and mire, a man all alone;
He feared for his default, should he fail to see 7 5 o
The service of that Sire that on that same night
Was born of a bright maid, to bring us His peace.
And therefore sighing he said, “I beseech of Thee, Lord,
And Marv, thou mildest mother so dear,
Some harborage where haply I might hear mass 7 5 5
And Thy matins tomorrow-meekly I ask it,
And thereto proffer and pray my pater and ave

and creed . ”
He said h i s prayer with sighs,
Lamenting his misdeed; 7 6o
He crosses himself, and cries
On Christ in h is great need.

No sooner had Sir Gawain signed himself thrice
Than he was ware, in the wood, of a wondrous dwelling,

Part II

Within a moat, on a mound, brigh t amid boughs
Of many a tree great of girth that grew by the water­
A castle as comely as a knight could own,
On grounds fair and green, in a goodly park
\Vith a palisade of palings planted about
For two miles and more, round manv a fair tree.
The stout knight stared at that stronghold great
As it shimmered and shone amid shining leaves,
Then with helmet in hand he offers his thanks
To Jesus and Saint Julian, that are gentle both,
That in courteous accord had inclined to his prayer;
“Now fair harbor,” said he, “I humblv beseech ! ”
Then h e pricks his proud steed with tl1c plated spurs,
And by chance he has chosen the chief path
That brought the bold knight to the bridge’s end

in haste.
The bridge hung high in air;
The gates were bolted fast;
The walls well-framed to bear
The fury of the blast.

The man on his mount remained on the bank
Of the deep double moat that defended the place.
The wall went in the water wondrous deep,
And a long \vay aloft it loomed overhead.
I t was built of stone blocks to the battlements’ height,
\Vith corbels under cornices in comeliest stvle;
\Vatch-towers trusty protected the gate,

·

\Vith many a lean loophole, to look from within :
A better-made barbican the knight beheld ne\·er.
And behind it there hoved a great hall and fair:
Turrets rising in tiers, with tines at their tops,
Spires set beside them, splendidly long,
\Vith finials well-fashioned, as filigree fine.
Chalk-white chimneys over chambers high
Gleamed in gay array upon gables and roofs;
The pinnacles in panoply, pointing in air,
So vied there for his vie\v th at verily it seemed
A castle cut of paper for a king ‘s feast.
The good knight on Gringolet th ought it great luck
If he could but contrive to come there within
To keep the Christmas feast in that castle fair

and bright.
There answered to his call
A porter most polite;
From his station on the wall
He greets the errant knight.

“Good sir,” said Gawain, “Wouldst go to inquire
If your lord would allow me to lodge here a space?”
“Peter! ” said the porter, “For my part, I think

17

7 7 0

7 7 5

790

795

Boo

8os

8 1 0

18 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

So noble a knight will not want for a welcome!”
Then he bustles off briskly, and comes back straight, 8 1 5
And many servants beside, to receive him the better.
They let down the drawbridge and duly went forth
And kneeled down on their knees on the naked earth
To welcome this warrior as best they were able.
They proffered him passage-the portals stood wide- 82o
And he beckoned them to rise, and rode over the bridge.
Men steadied his saddle as he stepped to the ground,
And there stabled his steed many stalwart folk.
Now come the knights and the noble squires
To bring him \\·ith bliss into the bright hall. 82 5
\Vhen his high helm was off, there hied forth a throng
Of attendants to take it, and sec to its care;
They bore away his b�and and his blazoned shield;
Then graciously he greeted those gallants each one,
And many a noble drew ncar, to do the knight honor. 83o
All in his armor into hall he was led,
\Vhere fire on a fair hearth fiercely blazed.
And soon the lord himself descends from his chamber
To meet with good manners the man on his floor.
He said, “To th is house vou are heartily welcome : 8 3 5
\Vhat is here is wholly yours, to have in

.
your power

and sway.”
“Manv thanks,” said Sir Gawain;
“May

·
Christ your pains repay!”

The two embrace amain 840
As men well met that day.

Gawain gazed on the host that greeted him there,
And a lusty fellow he looked, the lord of that place :
A man of massive mold, and of middle age;
Broad, bright was his beard, of a beaver’s hue, 845
Strong, steady his stance, upon stalwart shanks,
His face fierce as fire, fair-spoken withal,
And well-suited he seemed in Sir Gawain’s sight
To be a master of men in a m ighty keep.
They pass into a parlor, where promptly the host 8 5 o
Has a servant assigned him to sec to his needs,
And there came upon his call many courteous folk
That brought him to a bower where bedding was noble,
With heavy silk hangings hemmed all in gold,
Coverlets and counterpanes curiously wrought, 8 5 5
A canopy over the couch, clad all with fur,
Curtains running on cords, caught to gold rings,
\Voven rugs on the walls of eastern work,
And the floor, under foot, well-furnished with the same.
With light talk and laughter they loosed from him then 86o
His war-dress of weigh t and his worthy clothes.
Robes richly wrought they brought him right soon,

Part II 19

To change there in chamber and choose what he would.
When he had found one he fancied, and fl ung it about,
Well-fashioned for his frame, with flowing skirts, 8 6 5
His face fair and fresh as the flowers of spring,
All the good folk agreed, that gazed on him then,
His limbs arrayed royally in radiant hues,
That so comely a mortal never Christ made

as he. 87o
Wha tever his place of birth,
It seemed he well might be
Without a peer on earth
In martial rivalrY.

A couch before the fire, where fresh coals burned, 8 7 5
They spread for Sir Gawain splendidly now
\Vith quilts quaintly stitched, and cushions beside,
And then a costly cloak they cast on his shoulders
Of bright silk, embroidered on borders and hems,
With furs of the finest well-furnished within, 88o
And bound about with ermine, both mantle and hood;
And he sat at that fireside in sumptuous estate
And warmed himself well, and soon he waxed merry.
Then attendants set a table upon trestles broad,
And lustrous white linen they laid thereupon, 885
A saltcellar of silver, spoons of the same.
He washed himself well and went to his place,
Men set his fare before him in fashion most fit.
There were soups of all sorts, seasoned with skill,
Double-sized servings, and sundry fish, 8 9 0
Some baked, some breaded, some broiled on the coals,
Some simmered, some in stews, steaming with spice,
And with sauces to sup that suited his taste.
He confesses it a feast with free words and fair;
They requite him as kindly with courteous jests, 895

well-sped.
“Tonight you fast and pray;
Tomorrow we’ll see you fed.”
The knight grows wondrous gay
As the wine goes to his head. 9 0 0

Then at times and by turns, as at table he sat,
They questioned him quietly, with queries discreet,
And he courteously confessed that he comes from the court,
And owns him of the brotherhood of high-famed Arthur,
The right royal ruler of the Round Table, 9 0 5
And the guest by their fireside is Gawain himself,
Who has happened on their house at that holy feast.
When the name of the knight was made known to the lord,
Then loudly he laughed, so elated he was,
And the men in that household made haste with joy 9 1 0
To appear in h i s presence promptly that day,

20 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

That of courage ever-constant, and customs pure,
Is pattern and paragon, and praised without end :
Of all knights on earth most honored is he.
Each said solemnlv aside to his brother,
“Now displays of deportment shall dazzle our eyes
And the polished pearls of impeccable speech;
The high art of eloquence is ours to pursue
Since the father of fine manners is found in our midst.
Great is God’s grace, and goodly indeed,
That a guest such as Gawain he guides to us here
When men sit and sing of th�ir �avior’s birth

m VIew.
\Vith command of manners pure
He shall each heart imbue;
Who shares his converse, sure,
Shall learn love’s language true.”

When the knight had done dining and duly arose,
The dark was drawing on; the day nigh ended.
Chaplains in chapels and churches about
Rang the bells aright, reminding all men
Of the holy evensong of the high feast.
The lord attends alone; h is fair lady sits
In a comely closet, secluded from sight.
Gawain in gay attire goes thither soon;
The lord catches his coat, and calls him by name,
And has him sit beside him, and says in good faith
No guest on God’s earth would he gladlier greet.
For that Gawain thanked him; the two then embraced
And sat together soberly the service through.
Then the lady, that longed to look on the knight,
Came forth from her closet with her comely maids.
The fair hues of her flesh, her face and her hair
And her body and her bearing were beyond praise,
And excelled the queen herself, as Sir Gawain thought.
He goes forth to greet her with gracious intent;
Another lady led her by the left hand
That was older than she-an ancient, it seemed,
And held in high honor by all men about.
But unlike to look upon, those ladies were,
For if the one was fresh, the other was faded :
Bedecked in bright red was the body of one;
Flesh hung in folds on the face of the other;
On one a high headdress, hung all with pearls;
Her bright throat and bosom fzir to behold,
Fresh as the first snow fallen upon hills;
A wimple the other one wore round her throat;
Her swart chin well swaddled, swathed all in white;
Her forehead enfolded in flounces of silk
That framed a fair fillet, of fashion ornate,

9 1 5

9 20

925

9JO

9JS

94 0

9 4 5

9 5 0

9 5 5

And nothing bare beneath save the black brows,
The two eyes and the nose, the naked lips,
And they unsightly to see, and sorrily bleared.
A beldame, by God, she may well be deemed,

Part II 2 1

o f pride! 9 6 5
She was short and thick of waist,
Her buttocks round and wide;
More toothsome, to his taste,
\Vas the beauty by her side.

When Gawain had gazed on that gay lady, 97o
\Vith leave of her lord, he politely approached;
To the elder in homage he humbly bows;
The lovelier he salutes with a light embrace.
He claims a comely kiss, and courteously he speaks;
They welcome him warmly, and straightway he asks 9 7 5
To be received as their servant, if thev so desire.
They take him between them; with talking they bring him
Beside a bright fire; bade then that spices
Be frcelv fetched forth, to refresh tl1cm the better,
And the good wine therewi th, to warm their hearts. 9 8 o
The lord leaps about in light-hearted mood;
Con trives entertainments and timely sports;
Takes his hood from his head and hangs it on a spear,
And offers him openly the honor thereof
\Vho should promote the most mirth at that Christmas feast; 9 8 5
“And I shall try for it, trust me-con tend with the best,
Ere I go without my headgear by grace of my friends ! ”
Thus with light talk a n d laughter the lord makes merry
To gladden the guest he had greeted in hall

that day. 9 9 0
At the last he called for light
The company to convey;
Gawain says goodnight
And retires to bed straightway.

On the mom when each man is mindful in heart 995
That God’s son was sent down to suffer our death,
No household but is blithe for His blessed sake;
So was it there on that day, with many delights.
Both at larger meals and less they were lavishly served
By doughty lads on dais, with delicate fare; 1 ooo
The old ancient lady, highest she sits;
The lord at her left hand leaned, as I hear;
Sir Gawain in the center, beside the gay lady,
\Vhere the food was brought first to that festive board,
And thence throughout the hall, as they held most fit, 1 0 0 5
To each man was offered in order of rank.
There was meat, there was mirth, there was much joy,
That to tell all the talc would tax my wits,
Though I pained me, perchance, to paint it with care;

22 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

But yet I know that our knight and the noble lady • o • o
\Vere accorded so closely in company there,
\Vith the seemlv solace of their secret words,
\Vith speeches \veil-sped, spotless and pure,
That each prince’s pastime their pleasures far

outshone. • o • s
Sweet pipes beguile their cares,
And the trumpet of martial tone;
Each tends his affairs
And those hvo tend their own.

That day and all the next, their disport was noble, 1 o2o
And the third day, I think, pleased them no less;
The joys of St. John’s Day were justly praised,
And were the last of their like for those lords and ladies;
Then guests were to go in the gray morning,
\Vherefore they whiled the night away with wine and

with mirth, 1 02 5
Moved to the measures of mam a blithe carol;
At last, when it was late, took ]�ave of each other,
Each one of those worthies, to wend his wav.
Gawain bids goodbye to his goodly host

·

\Vho brings him to his chamber, the chimney beside, • oJ o
And detains him in talk, and tenders his thanks
And holds it an honor to him and his people
That he has harbored in his house at that holy time
And embellished his abode with his inborn grace.
“As long as I may live, my luck is the better • o35
That Gawain was my guest at God’s own feast ! ”
“Noble sir,” said t h e knight, “I cannot but think
All the honor is your own-may heaven requite it!
And your man to command I account myself here
As I am bound and beholden, and shall be, come 10 40

what may.”
The lord with all his might
Entreats his guest to stay;
Brief answer makes the knigh t :
Next morning he m u s t away. 1 045

Then the lord of that land politely inquired
\Vhat dire affair had forced him, at that festive time,
So far from the king’s court to fare forth alone
Ere the holidays wholly had ended in hall.
“In good faith,” said Gawain, “you have guessed the truth: • o s o
On a high errand and urgent I hastened away,
For I am summoned by myself to seek for a place­
! would I knew whither, or where it might be!
Far rather would I find it before the New Year
Than own the land of Logres, so help me our Lord ! • a s s
\Vhercfore, sir, in friendship this favor I ask,
That you say in sober earnest, if something you know
Of the Green Chapel, on ground far or near,

Part II

Or the lone knight that lives there, of like hue of green.
A certain day was set by assent of us both
To meet at that landmark, if I might last,
And from now to the New Year is nothing too long,
And I would greet the Green Knight there, would God but allow,
More gladly, by God’s Son, than gain the world’s wealth!
And I must set forth to search, as soon as I mav;
To be about the business I have but three days

‘

And would as soon sink down dead as desist from my errand.”
Then smiling said the lord, “Your search, sir, is done,
For we shall sec you to that site by the set time.
Let Gawain grieve no more over the Green Chapel;
You shall be in vour own bed, in blissful ease,
All the forenoon; and fare forth the first of the year,
And make the goal by midmorn, to mind your afFairs,

no fear!
Tarrv till the fourth da,·
Anl ride on the first of the vear.
We shall set you on your way;

.

It is not two miles from here.”

Then Gawain was glad, and gleefully he laughed :
“Now I thank you for this, past all things else!
Now my goal is here at hand! \Vith a glad heart I shall
Both tarry, and undertake any task you devise.”
Then the host seized his arm and seated him there;
Let the ladies be brought, to delight them the better,
And in fellowship fair by the fireside they sit;
So gay waxed the good host, so giddy his words,
All waited in wonder what next he would say.
Then he stares on the stout knight, and sternly he speaks :
“You have bound yourself boldly m�· bidding to do­
Will you stand by that boast, and obey me this once?”
“I shall do so indeed,” said the doughty knight;
“While I lie in your lodging, your laws will I follow.”
“As you have had,” said the host. “many hardships abroad
And little sleep of late, you arc lacking, I judge,
Both in nourishment needful and nightly rest;
You shall lie abed late in your lofty chamber
Tomorrow until mass, and meet then to dine
\Vhen you will, with my wife, who will sit by your side
And talk with you at table, the better to cheer

our guest.
A-hunting I will go
\Vhile \’OU lie late and rest.”
The knight, inclining low,
Assents to each behest.

“And Gawain,” said the good host, “agree now to this :
\Vhatever I win in the woods I will gi,·c you at eve,
And all you have earned you must offer to me;

23

1 o 6 o

1 0 6 5

1 0 7 0

1 0 7 5

1 080

1 09 0

1 09 5

I 1 0 0

I I 0 5

�-f Sir Gawain a n d the Green Knight

Swe-.n now. sweet friend. to sw;!p as I sa�·.
\\”hether h.m ds . in the end. be empt�· or better. · ·
· · s,· Gt>d . ” ” SJid Sir Gawain. · · I s:rant it forthwith!
I f �·ou find the g-.1m e goL>d. I sha-ll gb dly t1ke part. ” ”
··Let the bris:ht ,,;n e be brom:ht. �md our barg-ain is done.’ ·
Said t h e lL)rd of t h a t Li nd-the two bughed together.
1l1m thev dr:mk and the,· d.1llied :md doffed all cons traint .
These lords .md these hdies. as b t e :1s the,· chose.
.\n d then ”ith g-aietv and g-alla n tries .md s:r.1 c eful adiem;
Thev tJ.lked in low “to n es. -and t.uried a t parting.
\\”ith rompliments comely the�· kiss :1 t t h e l.!st:
There were brisk hds about with bl.JZins: t orches
To se” th em s.;.1 fe to bed. for soft repose

Ions: due.
Their co,·en�m ts. ,·et awhile.
Th ey repe:1 t. �m d · pl edge anew:
That lord rould well bes:uile
.\ I en”s hearts. with m i rth in ‘ ie w .

Part I I I

Lons: be fo:e d.l.’ lis:ht the\· left their beds:
Guests th.lt \\ished to £0 E:”JW wo:-d to their s:rooms .
. \nd the,· set about brisklv- to b i n d on saddles�
Tend to. their tackle. tie ·up trunks.
The p:oud lords app.:a:-. app.1re led to ride.
Le-.ap light!�· a s tride. hy hold of their bridles.
Each one on his w-av to his worth,· house .
The liege lord of the land was n o t the last
.\rra,·ed there to ride. with retainers mam·:
He fud a bite to e-.1t when he had h eard inass:
\\”ith hom to the hills h e hastem amain.
Bv th e dJ.wn o f t h a t dav 0\·er t h e dim earth .
.\ iaster

together.
.\ len at stations meet:
From the hounds the�· slip the tether:
The echoing horns repea t.
Clear in th e mem· wea ther .

.\t t h e clamor of t h e quest. t h e quarry trembled:
Dee r dashed through the d..a1e. dazed ,,; th dread:
Hastened to the high ground. on)�· to be
Turned back by the beaters. who boldly shouted.

I 1 1 0

1 u :;

1 1 2 0

1 1 2 !-

I I J O

I I J S:

1 1 4 5

1 1 50

Part III 2 5

They harmed n o t the harts, with their high he-ads,
Let the bucks go by, with their broad antlers, ” 5 5
For i t was counted a crime, i n the close season,
If a man of that demesne should moles t the male deer.
The hinds were headed up, with “Hey! ” and “\Vare ! ”
The docs with great din were driven t o the: \·alleys.
Then you were ware, as they went, of the whistling of arrows; , z 6 o
At each be:nd under boughs the bright shafts flew
That tore the tawny hide with their tapered heads .
Ah! thev brav and thev bleed, on banks the\· die,
And en-!r the

.
pack peli-mell comes panting behind;

Hunters with shrill horns hot on their heels- ” ” J
Like the cracking of cliffs their cries resounded.
\Vhat game got away from the gallan t archers
\Vas promptly picked off at the posts below
\Vhen they were harried on the heights and herded to the streams :
The watchers were so wary at the waiting-stations. ” i ”
And the greyhounds so huge, that eagerly sna tched,
And finished them off as fast as folk could see

with sigh t.
The lord, now here, now there,
Spurs forth in sheer delight. ” i ;
And dri\·es, wi th pkasures rare.
The day to the dark night.

So the lord in the linden-wood leads the hun t
And Gawain the good knight in gay bed lies.
Lingered late alone, till daylight gleamed,
Under coverlet costlv, curtained about.
And as he slips into ·slumber, slyly there comes
A little din at his door, and the latch lifted,
And he holds up his heavy head out of the clothes;
A corner of the curtain he caugh t back a little
And waited there warih·, to see what befel l .
L o ! it w a s the ladv, lo\·eliest t o behold.
That drew the door behind her defth- and still
And was bound for his bcd-abashed

.
was the knight,

And laid his head low again in likeness of sleep;
And she stepped stealthily, and stole to his bed,
Cast aside the curtain and came within.
And set herself softh· on the bedside there.
And lingered at her ieisure, to look on his waking.
The fair knight lay feigning for a long while.
Conning in his conscience wha t his case might
�lean or amount to-a marvel he thought it.
But vet he said within himself, “\ lore secrnlv it were
To try her intent by talking a little.” ·
So he started and stretched, as s tartled from sleep.
Lifts wide his lids in likeness of wonder .
. \nd signs himself swiftly, as safer to be,

with art.

I I 8 o

I 1 9 G

I 1 9 5

1 2 0 0

26 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

Sweetly does she speak
And kindling glances dart,
Blent white and red on cheek
And laughing lips apart.

“Good morning, Sir Gawain,” said that gay lady,
“A slack sleeper you are, to let one slip in!
Now you are taken in a trice-a truce we must make,
Or I shall bind vou in your bed, of that be assured.”
Thus laughing iightly

‘
that lady jested.

“Good morning, good lady,” said Gawain the blithe,
“Be it with me as you will; I am well content!
For I surrender myself, and sue for your grace,
And that is best, I believe, and behooves me now.”
Thus jested in answer that gentle knight.
“But if, lovely lady, you misliked it not,
And were pleased to permit your prisoner to rise,
I should quit this couch and accoutre me better,
And be clad in more comfort for converse here . ”
“Nay, n o t s o , sweet sir,” said t h e smiling lady;
“You shall not rise from �·our bed; I direct you better :
I shall hem and hold you on either hand,
And keep company awhile with my captive knight.
For as certain as I sit here, Sir Gawain you are,
\Vhom all the world \\·orships, whcreso you ride;
Your honor, your courtesy arc highest acclaimed
By lords and by ladies, by all living men ;
And l o ! we arc alone here, and left to ourselves :
My lord and his licgcmcn are long departed,
The household asleep, my handmaids too,
The door drawn, and held by a well-driven bolt,
And since I have in this house him whom all Jove,
I shall while the time away with mirthful speech

at will.
My body is here at hand,
Your each wish to fulfill;
Your servant to command
I am, and shall be still.”

“In good faith,” said Gawain, “my gain is the greater,
Though I am not he of whom you ha\·e heard;
To arrive at such reverence as vou recount here
I am one all unworthv, and well do I know it.
By heaven, I would h�l d me the happiest of men
If by word or by work I once might aspire
To the prize of your praisc-’twere a pure joy ! ”
“In good faith, S i r Gawain,” said that gay lady,
“The well-proven prowess that pleases all others,
Did I scant or scout it, ‘twerc scarce becoming.
But there arc ladies, believe me, that had Iiefer far
Have thee here in their hold, as I have today,

1 20 5

1 2 1 0

1 2 1 5

1 2 2 0

1 2 2 5

l 2 J O

1 2 3 5

1 2 4 5

1 2 50

Part III

To pass an hour in pastime with pleasant words,
Assuage all their sorrows and solace their hearts,
Than much of the goodly gems and gold they possess.
But laud be to the Lord of the lofty skies,
For here in my hands all hearts’ desire

doth lie.”
Great welcome got he there
From the lady who sat him by;
With fitting speech and fair
The good knight makes reply.

“Madame,” said the merry man, “Mary reward you!
For in good faith, I find your beneficence noble.
And the fame of fair deeds runs far and wide,
But the praise you report pertains not to me,
But comes of your courtesy and kindness of heart.”
“By the high Queen of heaven” ( said she ) “I count it not so,
For were I worth all the women in this world alive,
And all wealth and all worship were in my hands,
And I should hunt high and low, a husband to take,
For the n urture I have noted in thee, knight, here,
The comeliness and courtesies and courtlv mirth-
And so I had ever heard, and now hold it true-
No other on this earth should have me for wife.”
“You are bound to a better man,” the bold knight said,
“Yet I prize the praise you have proffered me here,
And soberly your servant, my sovereign I hold you,
And acknowledge me your knight, in the name of Christ.”
So they talked of this and that until ’twas nigh noon,
And ever the lady languishing in likeness of love.
\Vith feat words and fair he framed his defence,
For were she never so winsome, the warrior had
The less will to woo, for the wound that his bane

must be.
He must bear the blinding blow,
For such is fate’s decree;
The lady asks leave to go;
He grants it full and free.

Then she gaily said goodbye, and glanced at him, laughing,
And as she stood, she astonished him with a stern speech :
“Now may the Giver of all good words these glad hours repay!
But our guest is not Gawain-forgot is that thought.”
“How so?” said the other, and asks in some haste,
For he feared he had been at fault in the forms of his speech .
But she held up her hand, and made answer thus :
“So good a knight as Gawain is given out to be,
And the model of fair demeanor and manners pure,
Had he lain so long at a lady’s side,
Would have claimed a kiss, bv his courtesv,
Through some touch or trick of phrase at so

”
mc tale’s end.”

27

1 2 5 5

1 26 0

1 2 7 0

1 2 7 5

1 28 0

1 2 8 5

1 2 9 0

1 2 9 5

I J OO

28 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

Said Gawain, “Good lady, I grant it at once!
I shall kiss at your command, as becomes a knight,
And more, lest you mislike, so let be, I pray.”
\Vith that she turns toward him, takes him in her arms, 1 3 o ;
Leans down her lovelv head, and lo! he is kissed.
They commend each other to Christ with comely words,
He sees her forth safely, in silence they part,
And then he lies no later in his lofty bed,
But calls to his chamberlain, chooses his clothes, 1 3 1 o
Goes in those garments gladly to mass,
Then takes his way to table, where attendants wait,
And made merry all day, till the moon rose

in view
\Vas never knight beset 1 3 1 5
‘Twixt worthier ladies two :
The crone and the coquette;
Fair pastimes they pursue.

And the lord of the land rides late and long,
Hunting the barren hind over the broad heath. 1 3 z o
He had slain such a sum, when the sun sank low,
Of does and other deer, as would dizzy one’s wits.
Then they trooped in together in triumph at last,
And the count of the quarry quickly they take.
The lords lent a hand with their liegemen many, 1 3 2 5
Picked o u t the plumpest and p u t them together
And duly dressed the deer, as the deed requires.
Some were assigned the assay of the fat :
Two fingers’-width fully they found on the leanest.
Then they slit the slot open and searched out the paunch, 1 3 3 0
Trimmed it with trencher-kni\’es a n d tied it up tight.
They flayed the fair hide from the legs and trunk,
Then broke open the belly and laid bare the bowels,
Deftly detaching and drawing them forth.
And next at the neck they neatly parted I J J 5
The weasand from the windpipe, a n d cast away the guts.
At the shoulders with sharp blades they showed their skill,
Boning them from benea�h, lest the sides be marred;
They breached the broad breast and broke it in twain,
And again at the gullet they begin with their knives, 1 3 4 o
Cleave down the carcass clear to the breach;
Two tender morsels they take from the throat,
Then round the inner ribs thev rid off a laver
And carve out the kidney-fat, close to the spine,
Hewing down to the haunch, that all hung together, 1 3 4 5
And held it up whole, and hacked it free,
And this they named the numbles, that knew such terms

of art.
They divide the crotch in two,
And straightway then they start 1 3 5o

To cut the backbone through
And cleave the trunk apart.

Part III 29

With hard strokes they hewed off the head and the neck,
Then swiftly from the sides they severed the chine,
And the corbic’s bone they cast on a branch. , 3 5 5
Then they pierced the plump sides, impaled either one
With the hock of the hind foot, and h ung it aloft,
To each person his portiou most proper and fit.
On a hide of a hind the hounds they fed
With the liver and the lights, the leathery paunches, • 3 6 o
And bread soaked in blood well blended therewith.
High horns and shrill set hounds a-baying,
Then merrily with their meat they make their way home,
Blowing on their bugles many a brave blast.
Ere dark had descended, that doughty band • J 6 s
Was come within the walls where Gawain waits

at leisure.
Bliss and hearth-fire bright
Await the master’s pleasure;
\Vhen the two men met that night, 1 3 7 0
Joy surpassed all measure.

Then the host in the hall his household assembles,
\Vith the dames of high degree and their damsels fair.
In the presence of the people, a party he sends
To convey him his venison in view of the knight. ‘ J 7 s
And in high good-h umor he hails him then,
Counts over the kill, the cuts on the tallies,
Holds high the hewn ribs, heavy with fat.
“\Vha t think you, sir, of this? Have I thri\’en well?
Have I won with my woodcraft a worthy prize?” • 3 s o
“In good earnest,” said Gawain, �’this game is the finest
I have seen in seven years in the season of winter.”
“And I give it to you, Gawain,” said the goodly host,
“For according to our covenant, you claim i t as your own.”
“That is so,” said Sir Gawain, “the same say I : • J S s
\Vhat I worthily have won within these fair walls,
Herewith I as willingly award it to you.”
He embraces his broad neck with both his arms,
And confers on him a kiss in the comeliest style.
“Have here my profit, it proved no better; ‘ J 9 o
Ungrudging do I grant it, were it grea ter far.”
“Such a gift,” said the good host, “I gladly accept-
Yet it might be all the better, would you but say
Where you won this same award, by your wits alone.”
“That was no part of the pact; press me no further, ‘ J 9 s
For you have had what behooves; all other claims

forbear.”
With jest and compliment
They conversed, and cast off care;

3 0 Sir Gawain a n d the Green Knight

To the table soon they went;
Fresh dainties wait them there.

And then by the chimney-side they chat at their ease;
The best wine was brought them, and bounteously served;
And a fter in their jesting they jointly accord
To do on the second day the deeds of the firs t :
That the two m e n should trade, betide as it may,
What each had taken in, at eve when they met.
They seal the pact solemnly in sight of the court;
Their cups were filled afresh to confirm the jest;
Then at last they took their leave, for late was the h our,
Each to his own bed hastening away.
Before the barnyard cock had crowed but thrice
The lord had leapt from his rest, his liegemen as well.
Both of mass and their meal thev made short work :
By the dim light of dawn they we

‘
re deep in the woods

away.
With huntsmen and with horns
Over plains they pass that day;
They release, amid the thorns,
Swift hounds that run and bay.

Soon some were on a scent by the side of a marsh;
When the hounds opened cry, the head of the h unt
Rallied them with rough words, raised a great noise.
The hounds that had heard it came hurrying straight
And followed along with their fellows, forty together.
Then such a clamor and cry of coursing hounds
Arose, that the rocks resounded again.
Hunters exhorted them with horn and with voice;
Then all in a body bore off together
Between a mere in the marsh and a menacing crag,
To a rise where the rock stood rugged and steep,
And boulders lay about, that blocked their approach .
Then the company in consort closed on their prey :
They surrounded the rise and the rocks both,
For well they were aware that it waited within,
The beast tha t the bloodhounds boldly proclaimed.
Then they beat on the bushes and bade him appear,
And he made a murderous rush in the midst of them all;
The best of all boars broke from his cover,
That had ranged long unrivaled, a renegade old,
For of tough-brawned boars he was biggest far,
Most grim when he grunted-then grieved were many,
For three at the first thrust he threw to the earth,
And dashed away at once without more damage.
With “Hi!” “Hi!” and “Hey!” “Hey ! ” the others followed,
Had horns at their lips, blew high and clear.
Merry was the music of men and of hounds

1400

1 4 1 0

1 4 20

1 4 2 5

l 4JO

1 43 5

1 4 4 5

Part III

That were bound after this boar, his bloodthirsty heart
to quell.

Often he stands at bay,
Then scatters the pack pell-mell;
He hurts the hounds, and thev
Most dolefully yowl and yell. ·

Men then with mighty bows moved in to shoot,
Aimed at him with their a rrows and often hit,
But the points had no power to pierce through his hide,
And the barbs were brushed aside by his bristly brow;
Though the shank of the shaft shivered in pieces,
The head hopped away, wheresoever it struck.
But when their stubborn strokes had stung him at last,
Then, foaming in his frenzy, fiercely he charges,
Hies at them headlon g that hindered his flight,
And many feared for their lives, and fell back a little.
But the lord on a lively horse leads the chase;
As a high-mettled huntsman his horn he blows;
He sounds the assembly and sweeps through the brush,
Pursuing this wild swine till the sunlight slanted.
All day with this deed they drive forth the time
\Vhile our lone knight so lovesome lies in his bed,
Sir Gawain safe at home, in silken bower

so gay.
The lady, with guile in heart,
Came early where he lay;
She was at him with all her art
To turn his mind her way.

She comes to the curtain and coyly peeps in;
Gawain though t it good to greet her at once,
And she richly repays him with her ready words,
Settles softly at his side, and suddenly she laughs,
And with a gracious glance, she begins on him thus :
“Sir, if you be Gawain, it seems a great wonder­
A man so well-meaning, and mannerly disposed,
And cannot act in company as courtesy bids,
And if one takes the trouble to teach him, ’tis all in vain.
That lesson learned lately is lightly forgot,
Though I painted it as plain as my poor wit allowed.”
“What lesson, dear lady?” he asked all alarmed;
“I have been much to blame, if your story be true.”
“Yet my counsel was of kissing,” came her answer then,
“Where favor has been found, freelv to claim
As accords with the conduct of courteous knights.”
“My dear,” said the doughty man, “dismiss that thought;
Such freedom, I fear, might offend you much;
It were rude to request if the right were denied.”
“But none can deny you,” said the noble dame,
“You are stout enough to constrain with strength, if you choose,

3 1

1 4 50

1 4 5 5

1 47 0

1 490

1495

32 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

\Vere any so ungracious as to grudge you aught.”
“By heaven,” said he, “you have answered well,
But threats never throve among those of my land,
Nor any gift not freely given, good though it be.
I am yours to command, to kiss when you please;
You may lay on as you like, and leave off at will.”

With this,
The lady lightly bends
And graciously gives him a kiss;
The two converse as friends
Of true love’s trials and bliss.

“I should like, by your leave,” said the lovely lady,
“If it did not annoy you, to know for what cause
So brisk and so bold a young blood as you,
\nd acclaimed for all courtesies becoming a knight­
And name what knight you will, they are noblest esteemed
For loyal faith in love, in life as in story;
For to tell the tribulations of these true hearts,
\Vhy, ’tis the very title and text of their deeds,
How bold knights for beauty have braved many a foe,
Suffered heavy sorrows out of secret love,
And then valorously avenged them on villainous churls
And made happy ever after the hearts of their ladies.
And you are the noblest knight known in your time;
No household under heaven but has heard of your fame,
And here by your side I have sat for two days
Yet never has a fair ph rase fa lien from your lips
Of the language of love, not one little word!
And you, that with sweet vows sway women’s hearts,
Should show your winsome ways, and woo a young thing,
And teach by some tokens the craft of true love.
How! are you artless, whom all men praise?
Or do you deem me so dull, or deaf to such words?

Fie! Fie!
In hope of pastimes new
I have come where none can spy;
Instruct me a li ttle, do,
While my husband is not nearby.”

“God love you, gracious lady!” said Gawain then;
” I t is a pleasure surpassing, and a peerless joy,
That one so worthy as you would willingly come
And take the time and trouble to talk with your knight
And content you with his company-it comforts my heart.
B ut to take to myself the task of telling of love,
And touch upon its texts, and treat of its themes
To one that, I know well, wields more power
In that art, by a half, than a hundred such
As I am where I live, or am like to become,
It were folly, fair dame, in the first degree!

1 5 00

1 5 05

I S I O

I S I S

1 5 2 0

1 5 2 5

1 5J O

1 53 5

1 5 40

1 5 4 5

In all that I am able, my aim is to please,
As in honor behooves me, and am evermore

Part III

Your servant heart and soul, so save me our Lord ! ”
Thus she tested his temper a n d tried many a time,
Whatever her true intent, to entice him to sin,
But so fair was his defense that no fault appeared,
Nor evil on either hand, but only bliss

they knew.
They linger and laugh awhile;
She kisses the knight so true,
Takes leave in comeliest stvle
And departs without more

‘
ado.

Then he rose from his rest and made ready for mass,
And then a meal was set and served, in sumptuous style;
He dallied at home all day with the dear ladies,
But the lord lingered late at his lusty sport;
Pursued his sorry swine, that swer\’ed as he fled,
And bit asunder the backs of the best of his hounds
\Vhen they brought him to bay, till the bowmen appeared
And soon forced him forth, though he fought for dear life,
So sharp were the shafts they shot at him there.
But yet the boldest drew back from his battering head,
Till at last he was so tired he could travel no more,
But in as much haste as he might, he makes his retreat
To a rise on rocky ground, by a rushing strea m .
\Vith the bank a t his back he scrapes the bare earth,
The froth foams at his jaws, frightful to see.
He whets his white tusks-then wearv were all
Those hunters so hardv that hoved round about
Of aiming from afar, but ever they mistrust

his mood.
He had hurt so many by then
That none had hardihood
To be torn by his tusks again,
That was brainsick, and out for blood.

Till the lord came at last on his lofty steed,
Beheld him there at bay before all his folk;
Lightly he leaps down, leaves his courser,
Bares his bright sword, and boldly advances;
Straight into the stream he strides towards his foe.
The wild thing was wary of weapon and man;
His hackles rose high; so hotly he snorts
That many watched with alarm, lest the worst befall.
The boar makes for the man with a mighty bound
So that he and his hunter carne headlong together
Where the water ran wildest-the worse for the beast,
For the man, when they first met, marked him with care,
Sights well the slot, slips in the blade,
Shoves it horne to the hilt, and the heart shattered,

33

1 5 5 0

1 5 5 5

1 5 70

1 5 7 5

1 5 9 0

34 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

And he falls in his fury and floats down the water,
ill-sped.

Hounds hasten by the score
To maul him, hide and head;
Men drag him in to shore
And dogs pronounce him dead.

\Vith many a brave blast they boast of their prize,
All hallooed in high glee, that had their wind;
The hounds baved their best, as the bold men bade
That were charged with chief rank in that chase of renown.
Then one wise in woodcraft, and worthily skilled,
Began to d ress the boar in becoming style :
He severs the savage head a n d sets it aloft,
Then rends the body roughly righ t down the spine;
Takes the bowels from the belly, broils them on coals,
Blends them well with bread to bestow on the hounds.
Then he breaks out the brawn in fair broad Hitches,
And the innards to be ea ten in order he takes.
The two sides, attached to each other all whole,
He suspended from a spar that was springy and tough;
And so with this swine they set out for home;
The boar’s head was borne before the same man
That had stabbed him in the stream with his strong arm,

right through.
He thought it long indeed
Till he had the knight in view;
At his call, he comes with speed
To claim his payment due.

The lord laughed aloud, with many a light word,
\Vhen he greeted Sir Gawain-with good cheer he speaks.
They fetch the fair dames and the folk of the house;
He brings forth the brawn, and begins the tale
Of the great length and girth, the grim rage as well,
Of the battle of the boar they beset in the wood.
The other man meetlv commended his deeds
And praised well the prize of his princely sport,
For the brawn of that boar, the bold knight said,
And the sides of that swine surpassed all others.
Then they handled the huge head; he owns it a wonder,
And eyes it with abhorrence, to heighten his praise.
“Now, Gawain,” said the good man, “this game becomes yours
Bv those fair terms we fixed, as vou know full well.”
“That is true,” returned the knight, “and trust me, fair friend,
All my gains, as agreed, I shall give you forthwith .”
He clasps him and kisses him in courteous style,
Then serves him with the same fare a second time.
“Now we arc even,” said he, “at this evening feast,
And clear is every claim incurred here to date,

and debt.”

1 59 5

1 6oo

1 6 0 5

1 62 0

Part III 3 5

“By Saint Giles ! ” the host replies,
“You’re the best I ever met! 1 64 5
If your profits arc all this size,
We’ll see you wealthy yet ! ”

Then a ttendants set tables o n trestles about,
And laid them with linen; light shone forth,
Wakened along the walls in waxen torches. 1 6 s a
The service was set and the supper brought;
Royal were the revels that rose then in hall
At that feast by the fire, with many fair sports :
Amid the meal and after, melody sweet,
Carol-dances comely and Christmas songs, 1 6 s s
\Vith all the mannerly mirth my tongue may describe.
And ever our gallant knight beside the gay lady;
So uncommonly kind and complaisant was she,
\Vith sweet stolen glances, that stirred his stout heart,
That he was at his wits’ end, and wondrous vexed; 1 6 6 a
But he could not in conscience her courtship repay,
Yet took pains to please her, though the plan might

go wrong.
When they to heart’s deligh t
Had reveled there in throng, 1 66 s
To his chamber he calls the knight,
And thither they go along.

And there they dallied and drank, and deemed it good sport
To enact their play anew on New Year’s Eve,
Bu t Gawain asked again to go on the morrow, 1 6 7 a
For the time until his tryst was not two days.
The host hindered that, and urged him to stay,
And said, “On my honor, my oath here I take
That you shall get to the Green Chapel to begin your chores
By dawn on New Year’s Day, if you so desire. 1 6 7 s
Wherefore lie at your leisure in your lofty bed,
And I shall hunt hereabouts, and hold to our terms,
And we shall trade winnings when once more we meet,
For I have tested you twice, and true have I found you;
Now think this tomorrow: the third pays for all; 1 6 8 a
Be we merry while we may, and mindful of joy,
For heaviness of heart can be had for the asking.”
This is gravely agreed on and Gawain will stay.
They drink a last draught and with torches depart

to rest. 1 68 s
To bed Sir Gawain went;
His sleep was of the best;
The lord, on his craft intent,
Was early up and dressed .

After mass, with his men, a morsel he takes; 1 690
Clear and crisp the morning; he calls for his mount;

36 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

The folk that were to follow him afield that day
\Vere high astride their horses before the hall gates.
\Vondrous fair were the fields, for the frost was light;
The sun rises red amid radiant clouds,
Sails into the sky, and sends forth his beams.
They let loose the hounds by a leafy wood;
The rocks all around re-echo to their horns;
Soon some have set off in pursuit of the fox,
Cast about with craft for a clearer scent;
A young dog yaps, and is yelled at in turn;
His fellows fall to sniffing, and follow his lead,
Running in a rabble on the right track,
And he scampers all before; they discover him soon,

1 6 9 5

1 7 0 0

And when they sec him with sight they pursue him the faster, 1 7o 5
Railing at him rudely with a wrathful din.
Often he reverses over rough terrain,
Or loops back to listen in the Icc of a hedge;
At last, by a little ditch, he leaps over the brush,
Comes into a clearing at a cautious pace, 1 7 1 0
Then he thought through his wiles t o have thrown o ff the hounds
Till he was ware, as he went, of a waiting-station
\Vhere three athwart his path threatened him at once,

all gray.
Ouick as a flash he wheels
And darts off in dismav;
With hard luck at his heels
He is off to the wood away.

Then it was heaven on earth to hark to the hounds
\Vhen they had come on their quarry, coursing together!
Such harsh cries and howls thev hurled at his head
As all the cliffs with a crash had come down at once.
Here he was hailed, when hun tsmen met him;
Yonder thev yelled a t him, yapping and snarling;
There they cried “Thief!” and threatened his life,
And c\·er the harriers at his heels. that he had no rest.
Often he was menaced when he made for the open,
And often rushed in again, for Rep1ard was wily;
And so he leads them a merrv chase, the lord and his men,
In this manner on the moun

‘
tains, till middav or near,

\Vhile our hero lies at home in wholesome sleep
\Vithin the comely curtains on the cold morning.
But the lady, as love would allow her no rest,
And pursuing ever the purpose that pricked her heart,
\Vas awake with the dawn, and went to his chamber
In a fair flowing mantle that fell to the earth,
All edged and embellished with ermines fine;
No hood on her head, but heavy with gems
\Vere her fillet and the fret that confined her tresses;
Her face and her fair throat freely displayed;

1 7 1 5

1 72 0

1 72 5

1 7 30

1 7 3 5

1 74 0

Part III

Her bosom all but bare, and her back as well.
She comes in at the chamber-door, and closes it with care,
Throws wide a window-then waits no longer,
But hails him thus airily with her artful words,

with cheer:
“Ah, man, how can you sleep?
The morning is so clear!”
Though dreams have drowned him deep,
He cannot choose but hear.

Deep in his dreams he darkly mu tters
As a man may that mourns, with many grim thoughts
Of that day when destiny shall deal him his doom
When he greets his grim host at the Green Chapel
And must bow to his buffet, bating all strife.
But when he sees her at his side he summons his wits,
Breaks from the black dreams, and blithelv answers.
That lovely lady comes laughing sweet, ·
Sinks down at his side, and salutes him with a kiss.
He accords her fair welcome in courtliest style;
He sees her so glorious, so gaily attired,
So faultless her features, so fair and so bright,
His heart swelled swiftly with surging joys.
They melt into mirth with many a fond smile,
And there was bliss beyond telling between those two,

at height.
Good were their words of greeting;
Each joyed in other’s sight;
Great peril attends that meeting
Should Mary forget her knigh t.

For that high-born beauty so hemmed him about,
Made so plain her meaning, the man must needs
Either take her tendered love or distastefullv refuse.
His courtesy concerned him, lest crass he appear,
But more his soul’s mischief, should he commit sin
And belie his loyal oath to the lord of that house.
“God forbid!” said the bold knight, “That shall not befall ! ”
With a little fond laughter h e lightly let pass
All the words of special weigh t that were sped his way;
“I find you much at fault,” the fair one said,
“Who can be cold toward a creature so close bv your side,
Of all women in this world most wounded in heart,
Unless you have a sweetheart, one you hold dearer,
And allegiance to that lady so loyally knit
That you will never love another, as now I belie\”e.
And, sir, if it be so, then say it, I beg you;
By all your heart holds dear, hide it no longer

wi th guile.”
“Lady, by Saint John,”
He answers with a smile,

37

1 7 4 5

1 7 50

1 7 5 5

1 7 7 0

1 7 7 5

1 78 o

38 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

“Lover have I none,
Nor will have, yet awhile.”

“Those words,” said the woman, “are the worst of all,
But I have had my answer, and hard do I find it!
Kiss me now kindly; I can but go hence
To lament my life long like a maid lovelorn.”
She inclines her head quickly and kisses the knight,
Then straightens with a sigh, and says as she stands,
“Now, dear, ere I depart, do me this pleasure :
Give me some li ttle gift, your glove or the like,
That I may think on you, man, and mourn the less.”
“Now by heaven,” said he, “I wish I had here
My most precious possession, to put it in your hands,
For your deeds, beyond doubt, have often deserved
A repayment far passing my power to bestow.
But a love-token, lady, were of little avail;
It is not to your honor to have at this time
A glove as a guerdon from Gawain’s hand,
And I am here on an errand in unknown realms
And have no bearers with baggage with becoming gifts,
\Vhich distresses me, madame, for your dear sake.
A man must keep within his compass : account it neither grief

nor slight.”
“Nay, noblest knight alive,”
Said that beauty of body white,
“Though you be loath to give,
Yet you shall take, by right.”

She reached out a rich ring, wrought all of gold,
With a splendid stone displayed on the band
That flashed before his eyes like a fiery sun;
It was worth a king’s wealth, you may well believe.
But he waved it away with these ready words :
“Before God, good lady, I forego all gifts;
None have I to offer, nor any will I take.”
And she urged it on him eagerly, and ever he refused,
And vowed in very earnest, prevail she would not.
And she sad to find it so, and said to him then,
“If my ring is refused for its rich cost-
You would not be my debtor for so dear a thing­
I shall give you my girdle; you gain less thereby.”
She released a knot l ightly, and loosened a belt
That was caught about her kirtle, the bright cloak beneath,
Of a gay green silk, with gold overwrought,
And the borders all bound with embroiderv fine,
And this she presses upon him, and pleads with a smile,
Unworthy though it were, that it would not be scorned.
But the man still maintains that he means to accept
Neither gold nor any gift, till by God’s grace
The fate that lay before him was fully achieved.

1 7 90

1 7 95

t8oo

t8os

1810

1815

t8zo

t8zs

“And be not offended, fair lady, I beg,

Part III 3 9

And give over your offer, for ever I must 1 84 o
decline.

I am grateful for favor shown
Past all deserts of mine,
And ever shall be your own
True servant, rain or shine.” 1 8 4 5

“Now does my present displease you,” she promptly inquired,
“Because it seems in your sight so simple a thing?
And belike, as it is little, it is less to praise,
But if the virtue that invests it were verily known,
It would be held, I hope, in higher esteem . 1 8 5 o
For the man that possesses this piece of silk,
If he bore it on his body, belted about,
There is no hand under heaven that could hew him down,
For he could not be killed by any craft on earth .”
Then the man began to muse, and mainly he thought 1 8 5 5
It was a pearl for his plight, the peril to come
When he gains the Green Chapel to get his reward :
Could he escape unscathed, the scheme were noble!
Then he bore with her words and withstood them no more,
And she repeated her petition and pleaded anew, 1 8 6 o
And he granted it, and gladly she gave him the belt,
And besough t him for her sake to conceal it well,
Lest the noble lord should know-and the knight agrees
That not a soul save themselves shall see it thenceforth

with sight. 1 8 6 5
He thanked her with ferven t heart,
As often as ever he might;
Three times, before they part,
She has kissed the stalwart knight.

Then the ladv took her leave, and left him there, 1 8 7 o
For more mirth with that man she might not have.
When she was gone, Sir Gawain got from his bed,
Arose and arrayed him in his rich attire;
Tucked away the token the temptress had left,
Laid it reliably where he looked for it after. 1 8 7 5
A n d then with good cheer t o the chapel he goes,
Approached a priest in private, and prayed to be taught
To lead a better life and lift up his mind,
Lest he be among the lost when he must leave this world.
And shamefaced at shrift he showed his misdeeds 1 88 o
From the largest to the least, and asked the Lord’s mercy,
And called on his confessor to cleanse his soul,
And he absolved him of his sins as safe and as clean
As if the dread Day of J udgment should dawn on the morrow.
And then he made merry amid the fine ladies 1 8 8 5
With deft-footed dances and dalliance light,

40 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

As never until now, while the afternoon wore
away.

He delighted all around him,
And all agreed, that day, 1 89o
They never before had found him
So gracious and so gay.

Now peaceful be his pasture, and love play him fair!
The host is on horseback, hunting afield;
He has finished off this fox that he followed so long : 1 8 9 5
As he leapt a low hedge to look for the villain
Where he heard all the hounds in hot pursuit,
Reynard comes racing out of a rough thicket,
And all the rabble in a rush, right at his heels .
The man beholds the beast, and bides his time, 1 9 o o
And bares his bright sword, and brings it down hard,
And he blenches from the blade, and backward he starts;
A hound hurries up and hinders that move,
And before the horse’s feet they fell on him at once
And ripped the rascal’s throat

‘
with a wrathful din. 1 9 o 5

The lord soon alighted and lifted him free,
Swiftly snatched him up from the snapping jaws,
Holds him over his head, halloos with a will,
And the dogs bayed the dirge, that had done him to death.
Hunters hastened thither with horns at their lips, 1 9 1 0
Sounding the assembly till they s a w h i m a t last.
\Vhen that comely company was come in together,
All that bore bugles blew them at once,
And the others all hallooed, that had no horns.
It was the merriest medley that ever a man heard, 1 9 1 5
The racket that they raised for S i r Reynard’s soul

that died.
Their hounds they praised and fed,
Fondling their heads with pride,
And they took Reynard the Red 1 9 2 0
And stripped away his hide.

And then they headed homeward, for evening had come,
Blowing many a blast on their bugles bright.
The lord at long last alights a t his house,
Finds fire on the hearth where the fair knight waits, 1 9 2 5
Sir Gawain the good, that was glad in heart.
With the ladies, that loved him, he lingered at ease;
He wore a rich robe of blue, that reached to the earth
And a surcoat lined softly with sumptuous furs;
A hood of the same hue hung on his shoulders; 1930
With bands of bright ermine embellished were both.
He comes to meet the man amid all the folk,
And greets him good-humorcdly, and gaily he says,
“I shall follow forthwith the form of our pledge
That we framed to good effect amid fresh-filled cups.” 1 93 5

He clasps him accordingly and kisses him thrice,
As amiably and as earnestly as ever he could.

Part III

“By heaven,” said the host, “you have had some luck
Since you took up this trade, if the terms were good.”
“Never trouble about the terms,” he returned a t once,
“Since all that I owe here is openly paid.”
“Marry!” said the other man, “mine is much less,
For I have hunted all day, and nought have I got
But this foul fox pelt, the fiend take the goods!
\Vhich but poorly repays those precious things
That you have cordially conferred, those kisses three

so good.”
“Enough ! ” said Sir Gawain;
“I thank you, by the rood ! ”
And how the fox was slain
He told him, as they stood.

\Vith minstrelsy and mirth, with all manner of meats,
They made as much merriment as any men might
( Amid laughing of ladies and light-hearted girls,
So gay grew Sir Gawain and the goodly hos t )
Unless thev h a d been besotted, o r brainless fools.
The knight joined in jesting with that joyous folk,
Until at last it was late; ere long they must part,
And be off to their beds, as behooved them each one.
Then politely his leave of the lord of the house
Our noble knight takes, and renews his thanks :
“The courtesies countless accorded me here,
Your kindness at this Christmas, may heaven’s King repay!
Henceforth, if you will have me, I hold you my liege,
And so, as I have said, I must set forth tomorrow,
If I may take some trusty man to teach, as you promised,
The way to the Green Chapel, that as God allows
I shall see my fate fulfilled on the first of the year.”
“In good faith,” said the good man, “with a good will
Every promise on my part shall be fully performed.”
He assigns him a servant to set him on the path,
To see him safe and sound over the snowy hills,
To follow the fastest way through forest green

and grove.
Gawain thanks him again,
So kind his favors prove,
And of the ladies then
He takes his leave, with love.

Courteously he kissed them, with care in his heart,
And often wished them well, with warmest thanks,
Which they for their part were prompt to repay.
They commend him to Christ with disconsolate sighs;
And then in that hall with the household he parts­
Each man that he met, he remembered to thank

41

1 940

1 9 5 0

1 9 5 5

1 97 0

1 9 7 5

42 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

For his deeds of devotion and diligent pains, 1 98 5
And the trouble he had taken to tend to his needs;
And each one as woeful, that watched him depart,
As he had lived with him loyally all his life long.
By lads bearing lights he was led to his chamber
And blithely brought to his bed, to be at his rest. • 9 9o
How soundly he slept, I presume not to say,
For there were matters of moment his thoughts might well

pursue.
Let him lie and wait;
He has little more to do, ‘995
Then listen, while I relate
How they kept their rendezvous.

Part IV

Now the New Year draws near, and the night passes,
The day dispels the dark, by the Lord’s decree;
But wild weather awoke in the world without:
The clouds in the cold sky cast down their snow
\Vith great gusts from the north, grievous to bear.
Sleet showered aslant upon shivering beasts;
The wind warbled wild as it whipped from aloft,
And drove the drifts deep in the dales below.
Long and well he listens, that lies in his bed;
Though he lifts not his eyelids, little he sleeps;
Each crow of the cock he counts without fail.
Readily from h is rest he rose before dawn,
For a lamp had been left him, that lighted his chamber.
He called to his chamberlain, who quickly appeared,
And bade him get him his gear, and gird his good steed,
And he sets about briskly to bring in his arms,
And makes ready his master in manner most fit.
First he clad him in his clothes, to keep out the cold,
And then his other harness, made handsome anew,
His plate-armor of proof, polished with pains,
The rings of his rich mail rid of their rust,
And all was fresh as at first, and for this he gave thanks

indeed.
\Vith pride he wears each piece,
New-furbished for his need :
No gayer from here to Greece;
He bids them bring his steed.

In his richest raiment he robed himself then :
His crested coat-armor, close-stitched with craft,
\Vith stones of strange virtue on silk velvet set;
All bound with embroidery on borders and seams
And lined warmly and well with furs of the best.
Yet he left not his love-gift, the lady’s girdle;

2000

2005

2 0 ] 0

2 0 1 5

2020

20 2 5

2 0 JO

Part N

Gawain, for his own good, forgo t not tha t :
When the brigh t sword was belted a n d bound o n his haunches,
Then twice with that token he twined him about.
Sweetly did he swathe him in that swatch of silk,
That girdle of green so goodly to sec,
That against the gay red showed gorgeous bright.
Yet he wore not for its wealth that wondrous girdle,
Nor pride in its pendants, though polished they were,
Though glittering gold gleamed at the tips,
But to keep himself safe when consent he must
To endure a deadly dint, and all defense

denied.
And now the bold knight came
Into the courtyard wide;
That folk of worthy fame
He thanks on every side.

Then was Gringolet girt, that was great and huge,
And had sojourned safe and sound, and savored his fare;
He pawed the earth in his pride, that princely steed.
The good knight draws near him and notes well his look,
And says sagely to himself, and soberly swears,
“Here is a household in hall that upholds the right!
The man that maintains it, may happiness be his!
Likewise the dear lady, may love betide her!
If thus they in charity cherish a guest
That are honored here on earth, may they have His reward
That reigns high in heaven-and also you all;
And were I to live in this land but a little while,
I should willingly reward you, and well, if I might.”
Then he steps into the stirrup and bestrides his mount;
His shield is shown forth; on his shoulder he casts it;
Strikes the side of his steed with his steel spurs,
And he starts across the stones, nor stands any longer

to prance.
On horseback was the swain
That bore his spear and lance;
“May Christ this house maintain
And guard it from mischance!”

The bridge was brought down, and the broad gates
Unbarred and carried back upon both sides;
He commended him to Christ, and crossed over the planks;
Praised the noble porter, who prayed on his knees
That God save Sir Gawain, and bade him good day,
And went on his way alone with the man
That was to lead him ere long to that luckless place
Where the dolorous dint must be dealt him at last.
Under bare boughs they ride, where steep banks rise,
Over high cliffs they climb, where cold snow clings;
The heavens held aloof, but heavy thereunder
Mist mantled the moors, moved on the slopes.

43

2 0 3 5

2040

2045

2050

2 0 5 5

z o 6 o

2 0 6 5

2 0 7 0

20 7 5

2080

44 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

Each hill had a hat, a huge cape of cloud;
Brooks bubbled and broke over broken rocks,
Flashing in freshets that waterfalls fed.
Roundabout was the road that ran through the wood
Till the sun at that season was soon to rise,

that day.
They were on a hilltop high;
The white sno\\· round them lay;
The man that rode nearby

·

Now bade his master stay.

“For I have seen you here safe at the set time,
And now you arc not far from that notable place
That you have sought for so long with such special pains.
But this I say for certain, since I know you, sir knight,

2085

2090

And have your good at heart, and hold you dear- 2 o 9 s
\Vould you heed well my words, it were worth your while-
You are rushing into risks that you reck not of:
There is a villain in yon valley, the veriest on earth,
For he is rugged and rude, and ready with his fists,
And most immense in his mold of mortals alive, 2 1 oo
And his body bigger than the best four
That arc in Arthur’s house, Hector or any.
He gets his grim way at the Green Chapel;
None passes by that place so proud in his arms
That he does not dash him down with his deadly blows, 2 1 o 5
For he is heartless wholly, and heedless of right,
For be it chaplain or churl that by the Chapel rides,
Monk or mass-priest or any man else,
He would as soon strike him dead as stand on two feet.
\Vherefore I say, just as certain as you sit there astride, 2 1 10
You cannot but be killed, if his counsel holds,
For he would trounce you in a trice, had you twenty lives

for sale.
He has lived long in this land
And dealt out deadly bale; 2 1 1 5
Against his heavy hand
Your power cannot prevail.

“And so, good Sir Gawain, let the grim man be;
Go off by some other road, in God’s own name!
Leave by some other land, for the love of Christ, 2 1 2 0
And I shall get me home again, and give you my word
That I shall swear by God’s self and the saints above,
By heaven and by my halidom and other oaths more,
To conceal this day’s deed, nor say to a soul
That ever you fled for fear from any that I knew.” 2 1 2 5
“Many thanks ! ” said the other man-and demurring he speaks­
“Fair fortune befall you for your friendly words!
And conceal this day’s deed I doubt not you would,
But though you never told the tale, if I turned back now,

Part N

Forsook this place for fear, and fled, as you say,
I were a caitiff coward; I could not be excused.
But I must to the Chapel to chance my luck
And say to that same man such words as I please,
Befall what may befall through Fortune’s will

or whim.
Though he be a quarrelsome knave
With a cudgel grea t and grim,
The Lord is strong to save :
His servants trust in IIim.”

“Marry,” said the man, “since you tell me so much,
And I see you are set to seck your own harm,
I f you crave a quick death, let me keep you no longer!
Put your helm on your head, your hand on your lance,
And ride the narrow road down yon rocky slope
Till it brings you to the bottom of the broad valley.
Then look a little ahead, on your left hand,
And you will soon see before you that self-same Chapel,
And the man of great might that is master there.
Now goodbye in God’s name, Ga\\·ain the noble!
For all the world’s wealth I \\·ould not stav here,
Or go with you in this wood one footstep further!”
He tarried no more to talk, but turned his bridle,
Hit his horse with his heels as hard as he might,
Leaves the knight Jlone, and off like the wind

goes leaping.
“By God,” said Gawain then ,
“I shall not give way to weeping;
God’s will be done, amen !
I commend me to His keeping.”

He puts his heels to his horse, and picks up the path;
Goes in beside a grove where the ground is steep,
Rides down the rough slope right to the valley;
And then he looked a li ttle about him-the landscape was wild,
And not a soul to be seen, nor sign of a dwelling,
But high banks on either hand hemmed it about,
With many a ragged rock and rough-hewn crag;
The skies seemed scored by the scowling peaks.
Then he halted his horse, and hoved there a space,
And sought on every side for a sigh t of the Chapel,
But no such place appeared, which puzzled him sore,
Yet he saw some wav off what seemed like a mound,
A hillock high and broad, hard by the water,
\Vhere the stream fell in foam down the face of the steep
And bubbled as if it boiled on its bed below.
The knight urges his horse, and heads for the knoll ;
Leaps lightly t o earth; loops well the rein
Of his steed to a stout branch, and stations him there.
He strides straight to the mound, and strolls all about,

45

2 I J O

2 1 3 5

2 1 4 5

2 1 50

2 I 5 5

2 1 6o

2 r 6 s

2 I i O

2 1 7 5

46 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

Much wondering what it was, but no whit the wiser;
It had a hole at one end, and on either side, 2 1 8 o
And was covered with coarse grass in clumps all without,
And hollow all within, like some old cave,
Or a crevice of an old crag-he could not discern

aright.
“Can this be the Chapel Green? 2 1 8 5
Alack ! ” said t h e m a n , “Here might
The devil himself be seen
Saying matins at black midnight! ”

“Now by heaven,” said he, “it is bleak hereabouts;
This prayer-house is hideous, half-covered with grass! 2 1 9 o
Well may the grim man mantled in green
Hold here his orisons, in hell’s own style!
Now I feel it is the Fiend, in my five wits,
That has tempted me to this trys

.
t, to take my life;

This is a Chapel of mischance, may the mischief take it! 2 1 9 5
As accursed a country church as I came upon ever!”
\Vith his helm on his head, his lance in his hand,
He stalks toward the steep wall of that strange house.
Then he heard, on the hill, behind a hard rock,
Beyond the brook, from the bank, a most barbarous din : 2 2 o o
Lord! it clattered in the cliff fit to clea\·e it in two,
As one upon a grindstone ground a great scyth e!
Lord! it whirred like a mill-wheel whirling about!
Lord! it echoed loud and long, lamentable to hear!
Then “By heaven,” said the bold knight, “That business

up there 2 2 o 5
Is a rranged for my arrival, or else I am much

misled.
Let God work! Ah me!
All hope of help has fled!
Forfeit m y life may be 2 2 1 0
But noise I do not dread.”

Then he listened no longer, but loudly he called,
“Who has power in this place, high parley to hold?
For none greets Sir Gawain, or gives him good day;
If any would a word with him, let him walk forth 2 2 1 5
A n d speak n o w or never, t o speed his affairs.”
“Abide,” said one on the bank above over his head,
“And what I promised you once shall straightway be given.”
Yet he stayed not his grindstone, nor stinted its noise,
But worked awhile at his whetting before he would rest, 2 2 2 0
And then he comes around a crag, from a cave in the rocks,
Hurtling out of hiding with a hateful weapon,
A Danish ax devised for that day’s deed,
With a broad blade and bright, bent in a curve,
Filed to a fine edge-four feet it measured 2 2 2 5
By the length of the lace that was looped round the haft.
And in form as at first, the fellow all green,

Part N

His lordly face and his legs, his locks and his beard,
Save that firm upon two feet forward he strides,
Sets a hand on the ax-head, the haft to the earth;
When he came to the cold stream, and cared not to wade,
He vaults over on his ax, and advances amain
On a broad bank of snow, overbearing and brisk

of mood.
Little did the knight incline
When face to face they stood;
Said the other man, “J;’ricnd mine,
It seems your word holds good ! ”

“God love you, S i r Gawain ! ” said the Green Knight then,
“And well met this morning, man, at my place!
And you have followed me faithfully and found me betimes,
And on the business between us we both arc agreed :
Twelve months ago today you took what was yours,
And you at this New Year must yield me the same.
And we have met in these mountains, remote from all eyes :
There is none here to halt us or hinder our sport;
Unhasp your high helm, and have here your wages;
Make no more demur than I did mvself
When you hacked off my head with one hard blow.”
“No, by God,” said Sir Gawain, “that granted me life,
I shall grudge not the guerdon, grim though it prove;
Bestow but one stroke, and I shall stand still,
And you may lay on as you like till the last of my part

be paid.
He proffered, with good grace,
His bare neck to the blade,
And feigned a cheerful face :
He scorned to seem afraid.

Then the grim man in green gathers his strength,
Heaves high the heavy ax to hit him the blow.
With all the force in his frame he fetches it aloft,
With a grimace as grim as he would grind him to bits;
Had the blow he bestowed been as big as he threatened,
A good knight and gallant had gone to his grave.
But Gawain at the great ax glanced up aside
As down it descended with death-dealing force,
And his shoulders shrank a little from the sharp iron.
Abruptly the brawny man breaks off the stroke,
And then reproved with proud words that prince among knights.
“You are not Gawain the glorious,” the green man said,
“That never fell back on field in the face of the foe,
And now you flee for fear, and have felt no harm :
Such news of that knight I never heard yet!
I moved not a muscle when you made to strike,
Nor caviled at the cut in King Arthur’s house;
My head fell to my feet, yet steadfast I stood,

47

2 2 J O

2 2 3 5

2 2 4 5

2 2 5 0

2 2 5 5

2 2 6 0

2 2 70

2 2 7 5

48 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

And you, all unharmed, are wholly dismayed­
\Vhcrefore the better man I, bv all odds,

must be.”
Said Gawain, “Strike once more;
I shall neither flinch nor flee;
But if mv head falls to the floor
There is

‘
no mending me!”

“But go on, man, in God’s name. and get to the point!
Deliver me my destiny, and do it out of hand,
For I shall stand to the stroke and stir not an inch
Till vour ax has hit home-on mv honor I swear it!”
“Have a t thee then !” said the other, and heaves it aloft,
And glares dO\m as grimly as he had gone mad.
He made a mighty feint, but marred not his hide;
\Vithdrew the ax adroitly before it did damage.
Ga\vain gave no ground, nor glanced up aside,
But stood still as a stone, or else a stout stump
That is held in hard earth bv a hundred roots.
Then merrily does he mock him, the man all in green :
“So now you have your nerve again, I needs must strike;
Uphold the high knighthood that Arthur bestowed,
And keep your neck-bone clear, if this cut allows ! ”
Then was Gawain gripped with rage, a n d grimly he said,
“\Vhv, thrash awav, tnant, I tire of rour threats;
You �ake such a scen

‘
e, you must frighten yourself.

Said the green fellow, ” In faith, so fiercely you speak
That I shall finish this affair, nor further grace

allow.”
He stands prepared to strike
And scowls with both lip and brow;
No marvel if the man mislike
\Vho can hope no rescue now.

He gathered up the grim ax and guided it well :
Let the barb at the blade’s end brush the bare throat;
He hammered down hard, yet harmed him no whit
Save a scratch on one side, that severed the skin;
The end of the hooked edge entered the flesh,
And a li ttle blood lightly leapt to the earth.
And when the man beheld his own blood bright on the snow,
He sprang a spear’s length with feet spread wide,
Seized his high helm, and set it on his head,
Shoved before his shoulders the shield at his back,
Bares his trusty blade, and boldly he speaks-
Not since he was a babe born of his mother
Was he once in this world one-half so blithc-
“Have done with your hacking-harry me no more!
I have borne, as behooved, one blow in this place;
If you make another move I shall meet it midway

2280

2 2 8 5

2 2 9 0

2 2 9 5

2 3 0 0

2 J 0 5

2 J I O

2 3 1 5

2 J 2 0

Part N

And promp tly, I promise you, pay back each blow
with brand.

One stroke acquits me here;
So did our covenant stand
In Arthur’s court last year­
\Vherefore, sir, hold your hand ! ”

H e lowers the long a x and leans o n it there,
Sets his arms on the head, the haft on the earth,
And beholds the bold knight that bides there afoot,
How he faces him fearless, fierce in full arms,
And plies him with proud words-it pleases him well.
Then once again gaily to Gawain he calls,
And in a loud voice and lustv, delivers these words :
“Bold fellow, on this field your anger forbea r!
No man has made demands here in manner uncouth,
Nor done, save as dulv determined at court.
I owed you a hit and }:Ou ha,·e it; be happy therewith!
The rest of my rights here I freely resign .
Had I been a bit busier, a buffet, perhaps,
I could have dealt more directlv, and done vou some harm.
First I flourished with a feint,

�
in frolicsom

–
e mood,

And left your h ide unhurt-and here I did well
By the fair terms we fixed on the first night;
And fully and faithfully you followed accord :
Gave over all your gains as a good man should.
A second feint, sir, I assigned for the morning
You kissed my comely wife-each kiss you restored.
For both of these there behooved but two feigned blows

by right.
True men pay what they owe:
No danger then in sight.
You failed at the third throw,
So take my tap, sir knight.

“For that is m y belt about you , that same braided girdle,
My wife it was that wore it; I know well the tale,
And the count of vour kisses and vour conduct too,
And the wooing of my wife-it w�s all my scheme!
She made trial of a man most faultless bv far
Of all that ever walked over the wide ea rth;
As pearls to white peas, more precious and prized,
So is Gawain, in good faith, to other gay knights.
Yet you lacked, sir, a little in loyalty there,
But the cause was not cunning, nor courtship either,
But that you loved your own life; the less, then, to blame.”
The other stout knight in a study stood a long while,
So gripped with grim rage that his great heart shook.
All the blood of his bodv burned in his face
As he shrank back in sha

–
me from the man’s sharp speech .

The first words that fell from the fair knight’s lips :

49

2 J 2 5

2 J J O

2 J J 5

2 J 4 0

2 ] 4 5

2 J 5 0

2 ] 5 5

2 ] 7 0

50 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

“Accursed be a cowardly and covetous heart!
In you is villainy and Yice, and virtue laid low ! ” 2 3 7 5
Then he grasps the green girdle and lets go the knot,
Hands it over in haste, and hotly he says :
“Behold there my falsehood, ill hap betide it!
Your cut taught me cowardice, care for my life,
And coveting came after, contrary both •3so
To largesse and loyalty belonging to knights.
Now am I faulty and false, that fearful was ever
Of disloyalty and lies, bad luck to them both!

and greed.
I confess, knight, in this place, 2 385
Most dire is my misdeed;
Let me gain back your good grace,
And thereafter I shall take heed.”

Then the other laughed aloud, and lightly he said,
“Such harm as I have had, I hold it quite healed. 239o
You arc so fully confessed, your failings made known,
And bear the plain penance of the point of my blade,
I hold you polished as a pearl, as pure and as bright
As you had lived free of fault since first you were born.
And I give you, sir, this girdle that is gold-hemmed 2 3 9 5
And green as my garments, that, Ga\\’ain, you may
Be mindful of this meeting when you mingle in throng
\Vith nobles of renown-and known bv this token
How it chanced at the Green Chapel, to chivalrous knights.
And you shall in this New Year come yet again 2400
And we shall finish out our feast in my fair hall,

with cheer.”
He urged the knight to stay,
And said, “\Vith mv wife so dear
\Ve shall see you friends this day, 2405
\Vhose enmity touched you near.”

“Indeed,” said the doughty knight, and doffed his high helm,
And held it in his hands as he offered his thanks,
“I have lingered long enough-may good luck be yours,
And He reward you well that all worship bestows ! z4 1 o
And commend me to that comely one, your courteous wife,
Both herself and that other, my honoured ladies,
That have trapped their true kn igh t in their trammels so quaint.
But if a dullard should dote, deem it no wonder,
And through the wiles of a woman be wooed into sorrow, 2 4 1 5
For s o was Adam by one, when the world began,
And Solomon by many more, and Samson the mighty­
Delilah was his doom, and David thereafter
\Vas beguiled by Bathsheba, and bore much distress;
Now these were vexed by their devices-’twere a very joy 2420
Could one but learn to love, and believe them not.
f7or these were proud princes, most prosperous of old,

Part IV 51

Past all lovers lucky, that languished under heaven,
bemused.

And one and all fell prey 2 4 2 5
To women that the\· had used;
If I be led astrav, ·
l\lethinks I may

”
be excused.

“But your girdle, God love you! I gladly shall take
And be pleased to possess, not for the pure gold, 2 4 3 o
Nor the bright bel t itself, nor the beauteous pendants,
Nor for wealth, nor \\·orldly state, nor workmanship fine,
But a sign of excess it shall seem oftentimes
\Vhen I ride in renown , and remember with shame
The faults and the frailty of the flesh perverse, 2 4 3 5
How its tenderness entices the foul taint of sin;
And so when praise and high prowess have pleased my heart,
A look at this love-lace will lower my pride.
But one thing would I learn, if you were not loath,
Since you are lord of yonder land where I have long sojourned 2 4 4 o
\Vith honor in vour house-rna\· vou have His reward
That upholds ail the heavens, highest on throne!
How runs your right name?-and let the rest go.”
“That shall I give you gladly,” said the Green Knight then;
“Bercilak de Hautdesert this baronv I hold, 24 4 5
Through the might of l\Iorgan le Fa�·, that lodges at my house,
By subtleties of science and sorcerers’ arts,
The mistress of Merlin, she has caught many a man,
For sweet love in secret she shared sometime
\Vith that wizard, that knows well each one of your knights 2 4 5 0

and vou.
Morgan the Goddess, she,
So styled by title true;
None holds so high degree
That her arts cannot subdue. 2 4 5 5

“She guided me in this guise to your glorious hall,
To assay, if such it were, the surfeit of pride
That is rumored of the retinue of the Round Table.
She put this shape upon me to puzzle your wits,
To afflict the fair queen, and frighten her to death 2460
\Vith awe of that elvish man that eerily spoke
With his head in his hand before the high table.
She was with my wife at home, that old withered lady,
Your own aunt is she, Arthur’s half-sister,
The Duchess’ daughter of Tintagel, that dear King U ther 2 4 6 5
Got Arthur on after, that honored is now.
And therefore, good friend, come feast with your aunt;
Make merry in my house; my men hold you dear,
And I wish you as well, sir, with all my heart.
As any mortal man, for your matchless faith .” 2 4 7 0
But the knight said him nay, that he might by no means.

52 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

They clasped then and kissed, and commended each other
To the Prince of Paradise, and parted with one

assent.
Gawain sets out anew;
Toward the court his course is bent;
And the knight all green in hue,
Wheresoever he wished, he went.

\Vild ways in the world our worthy knight rides
On Gringolet, that by grace had been granted his life.
He harbored often in houses, and often abroad,
And with many valiant adventures verily he met
That I shall not take time to tell in this story.
The hurt was whole that he had had in his neck,
And the bright green belt on his body he bore,
Oblique, like a baldric, bound at his side,
Below his left shoulder, laced in a knot,
In betokening of the blame he had borne for his fault;
And so to court in due course he comes safe and sound.
Bliss abounded in hall when the high-born heard
That good Gawain was come; glad tidings they thought it.
The king kisses the knight, and the queen as well,
And many a comrade came to clasp him in arms,
And eagerly they asked, and awesomely he told,
Confessed all his rares and discomfitures many,
How it chanced at the Chapel, what cheer made the knight,
The love of the lady, the green lace at last.
The nick on his neck he naked displayed
That he got in his disgrace at the Green Knight’s hands,

alone.
\Vith rage in heart he speaks,
And grieves with many a groan;
The blood burns in his checks
For shame at what must be shown.

“Behold, sir,” said he, and handles the belt,
“This is the blazon of the blemish that I bear on my neck;
This is the sign of sore loss that I have suffered there
For the cowardice and coveting that I came to there;
This is the badge of false faith that I was found in there,
And I must bear it on my body till I breathe my last.
For one may keep a deed dark, but undo it no whit,
For where a fault is made fast, it is fixed evermore.”
The king comforts the knight, and the court all together
Agree with gay laughter and gracious intent
That the lords and the ladies belonging to the Table,
Each brother of that band, a baldric should have,
A belt borne oblique, of a bright green,
To be worn with one accord for that worthy’s sake.
So that was taken as a token by the Table Round,
And he honored that had it, evermore a fter,

24 7 5

2 4 9 5

2 5 0 0

2505

2 5 1 0

Part N 53

As the best book of knighthood bids it be known.
In the old days of Arthur this happening befell;
The books of Brutus’ deeds bear witness thereto
Since Brutus, the bold knight, embarked for this land
After the siege ceased at Troy and the city fared 2 5 2 5

amiss.
Many such, ere we were born,
Have befallen here, ere this.
May He that was crowned with thorn
Bring all men to His bliss! Amen. 2 5 3 0

The Metrical Form

THE BASIC AND EXTENDED FORMS

The “alli terative long line” in which Sir Gawain and the Green Knight
is composed may best be described as having a basic form with numerous
variations. In this basic form, the line is divided by i ts phrasing into two
half-lines, each of which contains two clearly predominant stresses or “chief
syllables.” There arc thus four chief syllables to a line; of these, the first
three are linked by alliteration, beginning with the same letter or occasion·
ally with a combination of letters such as sp or st. I f capital C’s are placed
above the line to mark chief syllables and a’s and x’s below the line to mark
alliteration or its absence, with a slant-bar to divide the half-lines, the
metrical patterns of two lines of the basic type may be indicated thus:

c c c c
With all the meat and the mirth that men could devise,

a a I a x

c c c c
Such gaiety and glee, glorious to hear

a a / a x

( In these and other examples, the wording of the translation is close enough
to that of the original so that there is no significant difference in metrical
pattern between the two . ) Something of the variety possible within the
basic form may be shown by another pair of lines:

c c c c
\Vith many birds unblithe upon bare twigs

a a I a x

c c c c
That peeped most piteously for pain of the cold.

a a I a x

In the first of these, the two stresses of the second half-line occur side by
side; in the next, the second stress is separated from the third by three un.
stressed syllables. The alliterative long line is much more flexible in i ts feet
or ” measures” than the classic iambic pentameter line of English verse from
Spenser through Frost.

I have spoken of four “clearly predominant” stresses as constituting the
basic form of the line. There are many lines, however, which contain
stressed syllables above and beyond the basic four, and the scansion of some
of the heaviest of these lines has been subject to dispute. Consider, for
example, the sequence

\Vhen he had on his arms, his harness was rich,
The least latchet or loop laden with gold. ( 590-<)1)

55

56 The Metrical Form

The first has the basic form; it also happens to illustrate the possibility,
optional for the poet, of combining words beginning with a vowel with
words beginning with h in the alliterative pattern. But in the second there
are five “stressed” syllables, four of which alliterate. This so called “ex·
tended form” is a distinctive feature of the alliterative verse of the Gawain
poet. I contend that in all such lines, four syllables can be seen as having
major importance, falling at rhythmically equivalent intervals in the “swing”
of the line-sequence. In this example, least and loop may be distinguished as
“major chief syllables” ( C’s ) , and latchet may be called a “minor chief
syllable” ( c ) . The rhythm of “least latchet or loop” is very much like that
of “pease porridge hot” in the nursery rhyme; in neither does minor rank
imply an unnatural reduction of stress. The metrical pattern of the line
may be indicated as follows :

c c c c c
The least latchet or loop laden with gold.

a

a a /a x

According to the above interpretation, the triply-alliterating “heavy”
half-lines which occur frequently in some parts of the poem and sporadi­
cally throughout are seen as stretching rather than breaking the basic
structure of two major stresses per haJf.Jine; of the three heavy syllables
they contain, one will always be given minor rank. This principle cannot,
of course, be demonstrated by lines taken out of context; what is crucial
is the rhythm of the verse, the basic momentum which establishes itself
cumulatively and is instinctively felt. 1be modern student should have
no difficulty in reading the translation aloud or to himself, provided he
realizes that the relation between stress and alliteration is very flexible
indeed ( as also in the original ) : nonallitcrating syllables may receive major
stress, while alliterating syllables may receive minor stress or none at all.
Some of the variations in form resulting from these possibilities are de·
scribed in the following section.

VARIANT FORMS

In many half-lines of the extended type, only two of the three stressed
syllables alliterate, and these two may or may not have major rank:

c c c c c c
And Gawain the good knight in gay bed lies ( 1 1 79 )

a a x / a x x

c c c c c
The blood for sheer shame shot to his face ( 3 1 7 )

x a a /a x

c c c c c
The old ancient lady, highest she sits ( 1 00 1 )

a

a x /a x

c c c c c
With good couters and gay, and gloves of plate

a x a I a x

The Metrical Form 57

The relation of adjective to noun in “good knight” and “gay bed,” above,
is comparable to that in “Baa, baa, black sheep” or “Taffy came to my
house.” These similarities in metrical pattern between Gawain and nursery
rhymes are not accidental; both kinds of verse are traditional, and, what is
more important, both are associated importantly with reading aloud or
reci tation. The equally important difference between the two is that the
rhythm of the nursery rhyme is uniform; major and minor stresses occur
in regular alternation, and there may be distortion of natural stressing, as
when we read “Pease porridge in the pot.” In Gawain, stresses of minor
rank constitute varia tion. not the norm, and the metrical patterns of the
long lines arc thoroughly consistent with the stress patterns of the spoken
language.

Another sort of variation found in the long lines of Gawain is the place·
ment of the alliteration on unstressed syllables such as prefixes, prepositions,
and auxiliary verbs:

c c c c
“Dear dame, on this day dismay you no whit”
( a ) a a /a x

c c c c
“And that is best, I believe, and behooves me now”

a a I a x
( 1 2 1 6 )

( I n the above example, alliteration falls on the preposition by i n the original;
sec the first scanned passage below. )

c c c c c
For I have hunted all day, and nought have I got

a a x / x a x

( Here I have marked only the alliterating syllables essential to the form . )
A few other variant alliterative patterns will be found both i n the orig·

ina! and in the translation; I have tried not to make usc of them more fre·
qucntly than the poet himself did. The first half-line may contain only one
alliterating syllable :

c c c c
The stranger before him stood there erect

a x /a x

In some lines, two alliterating combinations arc present :

c c c c
And with undaunted countenance drew down his coat

a b /a ( a ) b

Finally, there may be alliteration on all major stresses :

c c c c c
Sir Bors and Sir Bedivere, big men both ( 5 5 4 )

a a /a x a

The one hard and fast requirement of the form is the presence of an
alliterative link behveen the hvo half-lines, even if the only alliterating
syllable in the second half-line is unstressed. Lines in which such a link is

58 The Metrical Form

entirely lacking have presumably been miscopied at some stage in the trans­
mission of the text In some cases it is i mpossible to be sure how the orig­
inal must have read, but in others the solution is clear, as when milk-white,
in a second half-line ( 9 ; 8 ) otherwise lacking alliteration, is emended to
alliterating chalk-white, a word used elsewhere by the poet

As the above discussion makes obvious, here is God’s plenty. The chief
danger for the translator, I think, is not that he may fail to satisfy the re­
quirements of the verse, but that he may elaborate too much. Any prac­
tising poet knows that it is easier to turn on the alliteration than to tum
it off, and though the Gawain poet liked to make repetitive use of sounds,
he did not allow this penchant to dominate his art The same point may
be made with regard to the extended forms: the translator must not load
his lines to the point where the underlying rhythm of four major chief
syllables is obscured. It is the basic form to which the verse must continu­
ally return and against which the heavier and more ornate forms must be
measured.

In saying earlier that examples quoted from the translation did not differ
significantly in their metrical patterns from the original lines, I was taking
for granted certain conclusions as to the poet’s language. I have no doubt
of the validity of these conclusions, and have argued for them in detail
elsewhere. It is my view that the speech of the Gawain poet’s time and
place had e\·olved in the direction of modem English to the point where
the final -e familiar to the student of Chaucer’s verse was no longer pro­
nounced. This -e was used by the Gawain poet as an archaism in a few of
the rhymed lines of the “wheels,” described below, but was never used in
the alliterative long line. To be specific, in the example “With many birds
unblithe upon bare twigs,” cited above, the word bare would, I believe,
have been a monosyllable in the original just as it is today. This fact has
the very important consequence of making possible not merely the ap­
proximation, but the reproduction of the metrical patterns of Gawain in a
modern translation ( not, of course, line for line, but in the poem as a
whole ) . “Ther watz mete, ther watz myrthe, ther watz much joye” ( 1 007 )
is reproduced by the modern English translation “There was meat, there
was mirth, there was much joy” not only in wording but in metrical pattern,
despite the final -e’s of the original spelling.

THE RHYMED LINES

Gawain, like certain other poems composed late in its tradition, com­
bines alliterative with rhymed verse. Paragraphs of long alliterative lines
of varying length are followed by a single line of two syllables, called the
bob, and a group of four three-stressed lines called the wheel. These five
lines rhyme as in the following example:

c c c c c
On many broad hills and high Britain he sets,

a (b ) ( b ) /a ( b ) x

c
most fair.

The Metrical Form 59

c c c
\Vhere war and wrack and wonder

c c c
By shifts have sojourned there,

c c c
And bliss by turns with blunder

c c c
In that land’s lot had share. ( 1 4-1 9 )

‘fl1e metrical patterns of the rhyming lines arc easy to recognize, closely
resembling those of modern iambic verse.

S P E C I M E N SCANSIONS

I have chosen for detailed metrical analysis two passages illustrating
different kinds of metrical effect, presenting these both in the original and
translation. The first, taken from the description of the castle to which
Gawain comes on his journey, contains a number of extended lines; such
“clusters” occur elsewhere in passages of detailed description. The second,
taken from the conversation of the first bedchamber scene, contains a num­
ber of lines in which alliteration falls on unstressed syllables; the poet seems
inclined to use lines of this sort in quoted speeches, especially those of the
lady. In the transcriptions of Middle English passages, u has been sub­
stituted for v and v for u in accordance with modern practice; th for the
�Iiddle English letter thorn; y for Middle English 1·ogh at the beginnings
of words, gh in medial position, and z in final position . A single emendation,
gay for nonalliterating fair in line 1 208, is standard in modern editions of
the poem.

1 . Lines 78 5-

c c c c c
The burne bode on bonk, that on blonk hoved,

a a a I a x

c c c c c
Of the depe double dich that drof to the place;

a a a I a x

c c c c c
The walle wad in the water wonderly depe,

a a a /a x

c c c c c
And eft a ful huge heght hit haled up on lofte,

a a a / a x

c c c c c
Of harde hewen ston up to the tablez,

a a x /a x

60 The Metrical Form

c c c c
Enbaned under the abataylment in the best lawe;

a a I a x

c c c c
And sythen garytez ful gaye gered bitwene,

a a /a x

c c c c
Wyth mony lu8ych Ioupe that louked ful clene :

a a I a x

c c c c c
A better barbican that bume blusched upon never.

a a a /a x

c c c c
The man on his mount remained on the bank

a a I a x

c c c c c
Of the deep double moat that defended the place.

a

a x I a x

c c c c c
The wall went in the water wondrous deep,

a a a /a x

c c c c c
And a long way aloft it loomed overhead.

a x a /a x

c c c c c
It was built of stone blocks to the battlements’ height,

a x a I a x

c c c c
With corbels under cornices in comeliest style;

a a I a x

c c c c c
Watch-towers trusty protected the gate,

x a a I a x

c c c c c
With many a lean loophole, to look from within :

x a a I a x

c c c c c c
A better-made barbican the knight beheld never.

a x a / b a b

The Metrical Fonn 61

:z.. Lines noS-1 7

c c c c
“God moroun, Sir Gawayn,” sayde that gay lady,

a a I a x

c c c c
“Ye ar a sieper unslyghe, that mon may slyde hider;

a a I a x

c c c c
Now ar ye tan astyt! Bot true uus may schape,

a a I a x

c c c c c
I schal bynde yow in your bedde, that be ye trayst!”

a a /x a x

c c c c
AI laghande the lady lanced tho bourdez.

a a /a x

c c c c
“Goud moroun, gay,” quoth Gawayn the blythe,

a a 1 a x

c c c c c
“Me schal worthe at your wille, and that me wei lykez,

a a I x a x

c c c c
For I yelde me yederly, and yeghe after grace,

a a I a x

c c c c
And that is the best, be my dome, for me byhovez nede! ”

a a x I a x

c c c c c
And thus he bourded ayayn with mony a blythe laghter.

a x 1 x a x

c c c c
“Good morning, Sir Gawain,” said that gay lady,

a a I a x

c c c c c
“A slack sleeper you are, to let one slip in!

a a x l x a x

62 The Metrical Form

c c c c
Now you are taken in a bice – a truce we must make,

a a I a x

c c c c
Or I shall bind you in your bed, of that be assured.”

a a I x a x

c c c c
Thus laughing lightly that lady jested.

a a I a x

c c c c
“Good morning. good lady,” said Gawain the blithe,

a a I a x

c c c c
“Be it with me as you will; I am well content!

a a I a x

c c c c
For I surrender myself, and sue for your grace,

a a I a x

c c c c
And that is best, I believe, and behooves me now.”

a a I a x

c c c c
Thus jested in answer that gentle knight.

a x I a x

Reading Suggestions

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, ed. J. R. R. Tolkien and E. V. Gordon .
Oxford University Press. ( Scholarly edition of the original text . )

PEARL and SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT, ed. A . C . Cawley. Every·
man’s Library, 346. ( Original texts. )

Benson, Larry D . Art and Tradition in SIR GAWAIN AND T H E GREEN KNIGHT.
Rutgers University Press, 196 5 .

Borroff, Marie. SIR GAWAIN AND THE G R E E N K N I G H T : A Stylistic and Metri·
cal Study. Yale University Press, 1 9 6 2 .

Burrow, John A. A Reading o f SIR GAWAIN AND T H E GREEN KNIGHT. Barnes
and Noble, 1966.

63

• Covers
• Title Page
• Contents
• Introduction
• SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT

Part I
Part II
Part III
Part IV

• The Metrical Form
• Reading Suggestions

1

Canterbury Tales

(c. 12th century)

What do I need to read?

“The Canterbury Tales General Prologue”

“The Miller’s Prologue and Tale”

“The Wife of Bath’s Prologue and Tale”

“The Pardoner’s Prologue and Tale”

Who is the author?

Geoffrey Chaucer (1343 – 1400). Called the Father of the English Language as well

as the Morning Star of Song, Geoffrey Chaucer, after six centuries, has retained

his status as one of the three or four greatest English poets. He was first to

commit to lines of universal and enduring appeal a vivid interest in nature, books,

and people.

As many-sided as Shakespeare, he did for English narrative what Shakespeare did

for drama. If he lacks the profundity of Shakespeare, he excels in playfulness of

2

mood and simplicity of expression. Though his language often seems quaint, he was

essentially modern. Familiarity with the language and with the literature of his

contemporaries persuades the most skeptical that he is nearer to the present than

many writers born long after he died.

—Courtesy of Compton’s Learning Company

Background Lecture

Chaucer’s father, an influential wine merchant, was able to secure Geoffrey a

position as a page in a household connected to King Edward III. Chaucer’s duties as

a page were humble, but they allowed him the opportunity to view the ruling

aristocracy, thus broadening his knowledge of the various classes of society. While

serving in the English army, Chaucer was captured and held prisoner in France.

After his release, he held a number of government positions.

While in his twenties, Chaucer began writing poetry, and he continued to write

throughout his life. Over the years, his writing showed increasing sophistication

and depth, and it is recognized as presenting penetrating insights into human

character. In The Canterbury Tales, critics say that the author shows an absolute

mastery of the art of storytelling.

The Canterbury Tales are also said to present “a cavalcade of fourteenth-century

English life” because on this pilgrimage to Canterbury the reader gets to meet a

cross-section of the people from Chaucer’s time.

Canterbury, located about fifty miles southeast of London, was a favorite

destination for pilgrims. In fact, Chaucer himself made a pilgrimage there. While

he did not set out on the pilgrimage looking for material to use in his writing, he

was so impressed by the mix of company that he had met at the Tabard Inn that

he was inspired to write what was to become his masterpiece.

3

Selected Canterbury Tales Terms and Definitions

Allegory – a story that represents abstract ideas or moral qualities. As such, an

allegory has both a literal level and a symbolic level of meaning. Example: Gulliver’s

Travels.

Allusion – a reference to a person, place, poem, book, or movie outside of the story

that the author expects the reader will recognize.

Fable – a story that presents a moral or practical lesson. Generally, there are

talking animals in fables. Example: Aesop’s Fables.

Hyperbole – exaggeration for emphasis; overstatement. Example: I’ve told you a

million times to…

Irony – a subtle, sometimes humorous perception of inconsistency in which the

significance of a statement or event is changed by its content. For example: the

firehouse burned down.

Litotes – a conscious understatement that achieves the opposite effect of the

statement itself. Example: I like money a little.

Satire – using humor to ridicule. Example: Animal Farm

Structure of The Canterbury Tales

The Canterbury Tales is a “frame story”; it includes within it other stories. The

frame in this case is the story of a pilgrimage to Canterbury made by twenty-nine

pilgrims. Within the frame are twenty-four individual stories told by the pilgrims.

The stories told by the pilgrims are familiar tales, but here they are retold in a

brilliant fashion by most impressive storytellers.

The pilgrims themselves are described in the Prologue to the tales. In the

Prologue, we see that the personality of each pilgrim is unique but that the

character traits they exhibit are universal. People from three main segments of

medieval society are brought together through the vehicle of the pilgrimage:

church people, nobility, and common people and/or tradesmen.

4

The General Prologue

Setting: The story opens at the Tabard Inn in Southwark is a town fourteen miles

from London where pilgrims meet to begin the journey to Canterbury. It has been a

long winter, but spring has arrived so it is time to make a religious pilgrimage.

While the trip has a religious shrine as its destination, the pilgrimage will not be

without its social aspects.

Note: Keep in mind that in Medieval times the Catholic Church, which was for all

practical purposes the only religion in Europe prior to the Reformation, played an

important part in everyone’s life. Daily life could be terribly hard, and sometimes

all that would make it bearable was the thought of a pleasant afterlife with God in

heaven. Consequently, after the king and the nobility, the church was the third

most powerful institution in this society.

As we will see in The Prologue, within the church there is a social hierarchy of

roles and positions. Thus, for example, we will see that the monk obviously comes

from a higher social class than the Pardoner.

5

The Miller’s Prologue and Tale

Allusions to the Bible

The Noah referred to in the tale is from the Biblical story of Noah and the Ark in

which Noah, informed by God of the coming of a great flood, builds an ark and

thereby saves his family while everyone else perishes.

Concepts Familiar to Chaucer’s Readers

May/December Weddings. This is the marriage of an older, often rich but foolish

man to a very young and pretty wife. In stories, the older man usually winds up a

cuckold and it is thought by readers that he gets what he deserves for being so

foolish as to get married to someone much younger than he.

Cuckold: This word is used both as a noun and a verb. In stories the husband is

cuckolded or is made the cuckold when someone else has a sexual relationship with

his wife.

The cuckolded husband is the target of much comic ridicule in the stories from the

Middle Ages and centuries afterwards. During this time it was the belief that

older people should marry older, not younger people; thus the May/December

Wedding violates the natural order of things.

6

The setting for The Miller’s Tale is Oxford, England, at the time the story is being

told.

Genre: A fabliau (pl., “fabliaux”), a French invention that depicts bourgeois

characters in satirical or openly comic plots involving unlikely and complex

deceptions, usually concerning sex and/or money. There are considerably more

fabliaux in French than in English, and Chaucer’s are by far the most sophisticated

in Middle English because they often combine elements of several fabliaux into one

tightly structured plot. Critics are divided on the issue of whether the fabliaux

were intended for noble audiences because the tales made the bourgeois look so

bad, or were intended for the bourgeois, themselves, indicating that they had a

strong appetite for seeing themselves satirized in literature. The middle ground

seems to be that they could work for a mixed audience which might include worldly

nobles (excluding those given to extreme religious devotion, of course!) as well as

broad-minded and self-confident men and women of the city.

7

Characters:

• Nicholas, a clerk or student at Oxford who has spent more on his “sound

system” and on parties than he has on his studies—we know the type.

• John, the “townie” carpenter, whose trade has made him wealthy enough to

own a house big enough that he might rent rooms to the clerk, as well as

dressing his young wife in the most outrageously expensive clothing she

could desire.

• Alison, the carpenter’s “townie” wife, overflowing with energy and taking

life’s challenges as comedy whereas John, older by far, is ready to see

tragedy.

• Absolon, a clerk, possibly also an Oxford graduate, who now serves the

priest in the cathedral but who, like Nicholas, is far more interested in

dressing well and pursuing the ladies of the town.

• Gervase, the smith, a somewhat enigmatic figure who supplies a key tool for

Absolon’s revenge–he works at his hot forge in the cool of the night and,

apart from lovers, is apparently the only one awake until the cries of “Out

harrow!” summon the townsfolk in an informal posse.

8

The Wife of Bath’s Prologue
and Tale

Sources: This tale is a satire in the form of a fairy tale. It is a twist on an old folk

tale which shows up in one of the Arthurian romances about Sir Gawain. The tale is

a parody of an “exemplum”, a moral tale that was used by preachers to show people

how they should act.

The Battle of the Sexes To understand Dame Alice, you have to understand, as

the pilgrims did, the place of women in Medieval society. At this period of time,

women were little more than their husband’s property, and they had few legal

rights of their own. To cope in this situation, the only weapon a wife had was the

granting or withholding of sexual favors.

Even here, however, the Church’s teaching on sex, which was that sex was only for

procreation and everything else was lust, could diminish a woman’s chances of

successfully fighting back. In this context, the Battle of the Sexes may not be a

fight to see who will dominate in a marriage so much as the fight of a women to

establish herself as a person with equal rights. As you listen to Dame Alice of Bath

in the prologue and in the tale she tells, keep in mind this socio-historical context.

You will also note that sex and bodily functions were talked about in mixed company

quite openly in this period.

9

Audio File: Click on the link to listen to the Wife of Bath’s General Prologue read to

you in Middle English.

Genre: The prologue might be called a fictional autobiography, a confession, a

mock sermon or an apologia (L., defense). Persuasive as Chaucer’s Wife’s voice may

be, however, do not mistake it for true autobiography. Chaucer’s immediate source

for many of the opinions and strategies described in the prologue are two

characters from the Roman de la Rose (by Guillaume de Lorris, 1237, and Jean de

Meun, 1275): La Vieille (the Old Woman) and Le Jealoux (the Jealous One). He also

draws upon the vast literature of anti-feminist theologians to characterize the

views of her husbands, especially Jankyn.

Characters: a rapist knight (unnamed), Arthur’s queen (unnamed), and the “loathly

lady” (unnamed) he meets on his quest.

http://www.luminarium.org/medlit/wifeport.htm

10

The Pardoner’s Prologue and Tale

The Pardoner will offer a sermon as a performance, part of a process-analysis

under the rubric “present company excepted” in which he takes the pilgrims into

his confidence. He claims that although his theme is always “Radix malorum est

Cupiditas” (greed is the root of evils), he nevertheless, ironically, is obsessed with

appropriating money (like the Wife’s obsession with authority and the book), and

doesn’t care about the remission of sins. He explains how he uses his position to

manipulate “lewed peple”. Without his usual audience, the soliloquy is self-

destructive, and maybe self-hypnotic.

Aware of his isolation, the Pardoner’s attempts to rejoin society are misguided,

partly due to his insensitivity. He attempts to join here by proving his superiority.

He has to be intellectual to survive, but this may have turned into egomania. He

scorns his usual low-class audience and thinks this more educated group will share

his opinion. So it’s a demonstration of his typical con — how he manages to survive

and manipulate audiences, but it involves his moving back and forth between

apparent audiences.

The Pardoner’s purpose is to save souls; however, he does everything he can to earn

money. The irony is that the Pardoner is very guilty of the sin of avarice himself.

11

He uses ways of getting people to repent from avarice as a means for acquiring

more money for the church.

The archetype behind the Pardoner is Faus Semblant (False-Seeming) “a

professional hypocrite who pretends to holiness that he possesses not at all.

Chaucer’s Pardoner sermonizes in a confessional of self-destruction. He’s

dreadful, vital, and fascinating. For us, he’s his own worst enemy.

Genre: The prologue may be a “literary confession” or “Vice’s confession,” like the

“Wife of Bath’s Prologue” in some interpretations but with absolutely no ambiguity

about the speaker’s viciousness, despite his cheerful demeanor. The tale, itself, is

a “novelle” or short story of a type often used in sermon exempla. The old man who

directs the young men to their doom is variously interpreted as everything from

Jesus, the Devil, God’s mercy, and the Wandering Jew.

Characters: The Pardoner and his victims, in his Prologue’s delirious self-

dramatization of his ruthless frauds; three riotous young men, their deceased

buddy, a young “knave” who knows how to tell a story, an old man who cannot die,

and “a privee theef men clepeth Deeth / That in this contree al the peple sleeth”

(VI.675-6).

Tale:

The tale is an exemplum on avarice. (Exempla are stories that illustrate a theme in

preaching, usually found in collections.) The setting is dramatic this time, taking

place in a tavern to set the innate hypocrisy here. Although avarice is the focus,

the Pardoner includes drunkenness, gluttony, swearing, gambling, and maybe other

sins; his choices probably depend on which sins can be made to sound most exciting.

The Pardoner has a detailed knowledge of low life. He does not euphemize sin: it’s

truly nasty here. He seems to have control over the sequencing of the other sins

he incorporates too. But is he talking about gluttony? Or something else?

O wombe! O bely! O stynkyng cod,

Fulfilled of dong and of corrupcioun!

At either ende of thee foul is the soun.

12

How greet labour and cost is thee to fynde!

Thise cookes, how they stampe, and streyne, and grynde,

And turnen substaunce into accident

To fulfille al thy likerous talent!

Out of the harde bones knokke they

The mary, for they caste noght awey

That may go thurgh the golet softe and swoote.

Of spicerie of leef, and bark, and roote

Shal been his sauce ymaked by delit,

To make hym yet a newer appetit.

(The Pardoner’s Tale – from www.librarius.com, lines 534-546)

13

Epilogue:

There’s no formal separation from the tale here, since the Pardoner goes right

into further self-parody? or more of the con? Is he still addressing his usual

church audience? The abrupt shift is disorienting.

The fake relics function as an extension of the Pardoner himself. Is he selling

relics as a misguided way to include himself? Is he drunk? Was this all a game and

he misjudged that the audience was laughing with him all along? Does he despise

this audience too?

Whom is the joke against? Against the Host to ingratiate himself to the others?

Whatever his reasons — avarice, good-fellowship, humor — he concludes his sermon

with an offer to sell his pardon to the pilgrims even after all he has told about his

own fraudulence. Ironically he picks the worst possible victim, that rough, manly

man who might be supposed to have a natural antipathy for the unmasculine

Pardoner.

The Host misreacts. It’s a disaster and a bad call on the Pardoner’s part when the

Host is pulled in against his will. The Host offers an angry reaction, not at all joking

now, metaphorically cutting off the Pardoner’s tongue. The Pardoner never reacts

and is effectively shut up; we won’t hear from him again. The pilgrims laugh —

nervously? They’re reacting to what? The Knight levels out the social surface and

the tensions are diffused with a kiss of friendship.

14

What do I need to know?
1. Explain how The Canterbury Tales is a profile of fourteenth century life.

Use specific examples from the text.

2. Characterize Chaucer’s treatment of women in The Canterbury Tales. Use

specific examples from the text.

3. Choose any two characters from any tales we read and tell how they are

alike/different.

4. How do the tales reflect life in the 1300s?

5. Explain the importance of the character of Harry Bailly.

6. Describe the portrait of the clergy as painted by Chaucer in The Canterbury

Tales. Was it an accurate picture?

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight –
The Literature

• Author: Unknown

• The Pearl Poet

• The Gawain Poet

• Written in 14th Century

Major Characters

• Sir Gawain – the story’s
protagonist.

• A loyal knight to King
Arthur, as well as his
nephew.

• Gawain goes on his quest
to meet the Green Knight
in order to uphold his
knightly values.

Major Characters – The Green Knight

• Green Knight

• Sir Gawain’s main opposition in
the story.

• He is a richly decorated knight,
who has green skin and hair.

Major Characters – King Arthur

• King Arthur

• The king of Camelot.

• Uncle of Sir Gawain.

• It is at his celebration feast that
the Green Knight challenges
the court to a game.

Minor Characters

• Bertilak’s Wife

• – During the competition
between Gawain and her
husband, she tests Gawain’s
integrity and honesty

• Morgan le Faye (The old lady)

• Powerful sorceress trained by
Merlin. Assists Lady Bertilak in
testing Gawain

• Guinevere

• King Arthur’s wife and Queen.
Seated next to Gawain during
the court’s feast.

Settings – Camelot

• The holiday celebrations take
place at King Arthur’s castle in
Camelot.

• It is here that the Green
Knight challenges Gawain to
exchanges blows with him.

Settings – Bertilak’s
Home

On his quest to meet the
Green Knight, Gawain
stays here for a short
period of time.

Settings – The Green
Chapel

The supposed home of
the Green Knight.

Gawain is sent here to
keep his end of the
bargain which he made
with the Green Knight at
Arthur’s holiday
celebration a year prior.

Anticipation Guide

1. Men often act macho to try to impress women.
2. Women are impressed when men act macho.
3. There are many double standards in society regarding men and women.
4. Women should be treated equally to men in all aspects of life.
5. The expectations for the ability of women should be equal to that of men

in every career.
6. Chivalry is dead.
7. If a married man/woman is unhappy he/she should seek companionship

elsewhere.
8. The lives of kings are worth more than the lives of peasants.
9. Most people try to live their lives by proper morals and virtues.
10. It is worth it to die to save one’s honor.

Major Conflict

• Gawain’s struggle to decide between his duties as a knight and
the worth of his own life

Rising Action

• Gawain accepts the Green Knight’s challenge and cuts off his
head.

• The Green Knight survives the blow and Gawain is then required
to maintain his half of the challenge.

Climax

• Gawain meets the Green Knight at the Green Chapel.

• After taking his first two swings, the Green Knight nicks Gawain
on his third swing, only slightly cutting his neck.

Falling Action

• Confession

• Shame and mortification

• Statement of Sin: Gawain admits cowardice, covetousness, and
untruth

• Request for penance

Examples of the Code of Chivalry

• Thou shalt defend the Church.

• Thou shalt respect all weaknesses, and shalt constitute thyself
the defender of them.

• Live to serve King and Country.

• Live to defend Crown and Country and all it holds dear.

• Live one’s life so that it is worthy of respect and honor.

• Live for freedom, justice and all that is good.

• Never attack an unarmed foe.

Examples from the Laws of Courtly Love

• Thou shalt avoid avarice like the deadly pestilence and shalt
embrace its opposite.

• Thou shalt keep thyself chaste for the sake of her whom thou
lovest.

• Boys do not love until they reach the age of maturity.

• When one lover dies, a widowhood of two years is required of
the survivor.

• No one should be deprived of love without the very best of
reasons.

• No one can love unless he is propelled by the persuasion of love.

Motif

-a motif is the recurrence of an object, concept or idea within a
piece of literature.

-one of the largest motifs presented in Sir Gawain is the use of
color…how is this true?

Symbolism

• In medieval symbology, red signifies
humility as the blood of Christ

• Gold signifies perfection.
• Gawain’s shield – a tool of protection
• Green – symbolizes fertility and

rebirth
• Axe – a symbol of execution
• Holly bob – associated with death and

ghosts
• An analysis of “Sir Gawain and the

Green Knight” indicates that symbols
are prevalent in the poem and the
Gawain-poet intended to use these
symbols as tools of hidden meanings.

• The Pentangle – five-pointed star, a
symbol of truth, virtues, and value

• The green girdle – represents
cowardice and excessive love of a
mortal life.

• The green girdle is also a symbol
paralleling the crown of thorns that
was worn by Jesus during crucifixion.

• Most of the symbols in this story
dwell on the subjects of death,
human triumph, defeat, temptation,
and honor.

Gold Spurs?

• Immediately upon
reading/hearing these lines
about the Green Knight who has
burst into Arthur’s Christmas
festivities, wearing gold spurs,
the audience would know that
he was a guy not to be messed
with.

• He was got up in green from
head to heel:
a tunic worn tight, tucked to his
ribs;
and a rich cloak cast over it,
covered inside with a fine fur
lining, fitted and sewn
with ermine trim that stood out
in contrast from his hair where
his hood lay folded flat;
and handsome hose of the
same green hue which clung to
his calves, with clustered spurs
of bright gold; (ll. 151-55)

Why the Green Knight?

• In medieval England, the “Green
Man” was a pagan
representation of nature. The
“Green Man” was not Satanic
but did symbolize the nature
worship that characterized pre-
Christian tribal paganism.

• The “Green Man” is not evil but
is also not Christian  a battle
between any of Arthur’s knights
and any creature reminiscent of
Britain’s pagan past is, by
extension, a battle between
“good” and “evil” – or between
the Christian piety of Arthur’s
knights and their tribal, non-
Christian predecessors.

Sir Gawain’s Shield

• In the poem, Gawain’s shield
is very clearly described as a
golden pentangle on a field of
red.

• The pentangle, the poem
goes on to tell us, represents
Gawain’s Five Fifths.

•
The pentangle is also called
the “endless knot.”

“Five-Fifths”

• Gawain was said to possess five
qualities – one for each of the
pentangle’s points – wherein he
far excelled all other knights.

• The first of these “Five Fifths”
was his faultlessness in his
five senses.

• The next (second) of these
“Five Fifths” was his
faultlessness in his five
fingers.

“Five-Fifths” Continued

• The next (third) of these “Five
Fifths” was the strength Gawain
drew from his devotion to the
“Five wounds of Christ.”

1.One through each of his hands
or wrists

2.One through each of his feet

3.The final wound in the side of
Christ

More on the “Five-Fifths”

• The last of these “Five Fifths” was Gawain’s well-known practice
of the “five social graces.”

• The five social graces which Gawain exemplifies above all others are:

1.free-giving (generosity)

2.brotherly love

3.chastity

4.pure manners (courtesie)

5.piety

Gawain Faced Five Challenges

1.to voluntarily confront the Green Knight

2.to strike his blow properly

3.to keep his vow to meet the Green Knight in a year and a day.

4.to survive journey to the green chapel

5.to resist the lady’s temptations

Gawain’s Fifth Challenge

• The FIFTH TEST are the temptations and the three gifts; it tests
especially the fifth point of the pentangle, the social virtues.

• Gawain fails: his acceptance of the girdle is not a fault; his
hiding of it is a potential fault; his actual withholding of it from
Bertilak is his fall.

• Had he given it back to the lady, he would have erased his
potential fault.

• The real fault, from Gawain’s point of view, is that the reality of
his own mortality induces him to break the endless knot.

• Thus two effects of original sin are reasserted: cowardice
(bodily mortality) and covetousness (willful cupidity).

• His nature as a man is asserting itself against his nature as a
knight.

Chastity? Piety? Respect for the
King?

• Gawain knows that he is
facing certain death – and
SOON – when he finally
confronts the Green Knight
and accepts his half of the
bargain.

• Why would he still adhere to
courtesie and resist the
Lady’s temptation?

What’s Next?

Read the literature, take notes,
and prepare for the essay
exam.