Response 7: Sir Gawain and the Green Knight (50 pts.)

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More praise for Simon Armitage's

SIR G�W�IN �Nb Ch E GREEN i<.NJGh "C

"The English poet Simon Armitage has provided a free and

wonderfully offbeat version of this unusual masterpiece . . . . His Sir

Gawain is fresh and startling, as though it had been written yesterday;

it is rough-knuckled and yet it sings . . . . f1rom start to finish, Mr.

Armitage has clearly had great fun; each of his words has been tasted

with gusto." -Eric Ormsby, New York Sun

"Full of make-believe and festivity, this wonderful narrative poem

possesses a Mozartean lightness and wit. Luckily, several modern

versions, particularly those by W. S. Merwin and Simon Armitage,

deftly replicate much of the feel and rhythm of the Middle English

original. " -Michael Dirda, Wall Street Journal

"I enjoyed it greatly for its kick and music; its high spirits, its many

memorable passages. I enjoyed it because, like the Gawain poet,

Armitage is some storyteller. "

-Kevin Crossley-Hoiland, The Guardian

"Armitage makes it utterly, even compulsively readable, and as fresh

as it must have been in 1400." -Brian Morton, Sunday Heralc�

"[Armitage] captures the narrative power of the Old English epic

perhaps even better than Tolkien does. "

-Chauncey Mabe, NBCC Most Recommenckd: Winter List

"Armitage keeps structure, rhyme and alliteration, but messes

about genially with the vocabulary. The result . . . is alert, alive and

accessible. The lyricism, the power and the drive of the original are

triumphantly present. " -Murrough O'Brien, The Independent

"Simon Armitage has translated this perfect read-aloud poem into

idiomatic English, convey{ing} the spirit and alliteration of the

original . " -Fritz Lanham, Houston Chronicle

"This new translation by English poet Simon Armitage brims

with brawny life, boasting such elements as a giant, other-worldly

adversary, the code of chivalry and a comely and wanton maiden. If

you liked 'Spamalot,' here's a chance to get even better acquainted

with those Knights of the Round Table." -Boston Herald

"{A} supple new translation . . . . Irresistible . . . . Armitage meticulously

maintains . the singsong alliteration . . . rarely, if ever, hitting a

strained or duff note . . . . That Armitage, a celebrated Yorkshire

born poet, has injected a spot of northern dialect back into the poem,

is delicious. Occasionally, he even improves on the original. . . . This

is a translation to be savoured for its own linguistic merits: Armitage

has pored over and polished every word. In the introduction, he

writes that his ambition was to produce an independent, living piece

of 'poetry.' He has certainly done that.''

-Alistair Sooke, Daily Telegraph

"{Armitage} does get across the epic's emotional authenticity and

subtlety and its tough, tricky, sardonic core. This translation reveals a

writer closely attuned to centuries-old local influences and traditions

of language. " -Wall Street] ournal

"The story is rich, eerie and intoxicating as it follows Gawain

from Camelot to his likely doom among the forests and crags and

icy streams of the mysterious north . . . . Armitage never lacks for

boldness. His enjoyment of the original's thickly consonantal four

stress alliterative line drives the narrative on at great pace. Nor does

he neglect the poem's concern with pattern, colour and bejewelled

decoration of castles, ladies' costumes and knightly equipment, seen

flashing and glowing amid the inhospitable winter landscapes that

dominate the poem . . . [Armitage] honours the original and will win

it readers. " -Sean O'Brien, Sunday Times

"Joining translators such as JRR Tolkien and Ted Hughes, Simon

Armitage has taken on one of the earliest stories in English literature .

. . . [He] meets this poetic challenge courageously, staying faithful to

the story's structure and style but filling the Middle English rhythms

with his trademark sound . . . . In the story of Gawain, Armitage has

found a language capable of change. By insisting on that change,

he had found a new poetry, a method of survival. Six hundred years

away, Gawain is closer than he has ever been." -The Observer

"The idiom Armitage develops is delicately responsive to the aural

_intricacies of the Middle English, but also has a free-flowing,

colloquial twang that allows the poem to partake of the energies of

contemporary speech . . . . Amitage's translation . . . captures much

of this great poem's beguiling mixture of dreamy magic and bracing

vigour. '" -Mark Ford, Financial Times

BY Cb€ 5.\ffi€ .\UCbOR

POETRY

Zoom!

Xancrdu

Kid

Book of Matches

The Dead Sea Poems

Moon Country (with Glyn Maxwell)

ClottdCttckooLand

Killing Time

Selected Poems

Travelling Songs

The Universal Home Doctor

The Sho11t

Homer's Odyssey

Tyrannoscmrtts Rex Verstts the Cord11roy Kid

DRAMA

Eclipse

Mister Heracles (after E11ripides)

]er11salem

PROSE

All Points North

Little Green Man

The White Sttt[f

SIR G�W�IN �Nb

ChE GREEN ](N1GhC

A NEW VERSE TRANSLATION

SlffiON �RffiiL"�GE

W. W. NORCON &: comp�NY

New York London

First American edition 2007

Middle English text of Sir Gawain and the Gree11 Knight reprinted by permission of Everyman's Library, an imprint of Alfred A. Knopf.

Printed in the United S<aces of America

First published as a Norton paperback 2008

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Daca

Gawain and the Grene Knight. English & English (Middle English)

Sir Gawain and rhe Green Knight : a new verse translation I [rranslated by] Simon Armitage. - lsc American ed.

p. em.

Middle English rext, parallel English translation.

ISBN 978-0-393-06048-5

1. Gawain (Legendary character)--Romances. 2. Knights and knighchood-Poecry.

3. Arthurian romances. I. Armicage, Simon, 1963- II. Tide.

PR065.G3A328 2007

821.1--dc22 2007028520

ISBN 978-0-393-33415-9 pbk.

W. W. Norton & Company, Inc.

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W. W. Norton & Company Ltd.

Casde House, 75176 Wells Screec, London WIT 3QT

1234567890

CONL"ENL"S

INTRODUCTION by Simort Armitage

A NOTE ON MIDDLE ENGLISH METER byjames Simpson

SIR G.).W.).IN .).j'jb ChE GREEN I<.NIGhC

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

ABOUT THE GAWAIN POET

195

ABOUT THE TRANSLATOR

197

INt"RObU CLION

W e know next to nothing about the author of the poem that

has come to be called Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. It

was probably written around 1400. In the early seventeenth century

the manuscript was recorded as belonging to a Yorkshireman, Henry

Saville of Bank. It was later acquired by Sir Robert Cotton, whose

collection also included the Lindisfarrie Gospels and the only exist

ing manuscript of Beowulf The poem then lay dormant for over two

hundred years, not coming ro l ight until Queen VictOria was on

the throne, thus leapfrogging the attentions of some of our greatest

writers and critics. The manuscript, a small, unprepossessing thing,

would fit comfortably into an average-size hand, were anyone actu

ally allowed to rouch it . Now referred to as CottOn Nero A.x . , i t

i s considered not only a most brilliant example of Middle English

poetry but one of the jewels in the crown of English Literature, and

sits in the British Library under conditions of high security and con

trolled humidity.

To cast eyes on the manuscript, or even to shuffle the unbound

pages of the Early English Text Society's facsimile edition, is to be

intrigued by the handwriting; stern, stylish letters, like crusading

chess pieces, fall into orderly ranks along faintly ruled lines. But the

man whose calligraphy we ponder, a jobbing scribe, probably, was

not the author. The person who has become known as the Gawain

poet remains as shadowy as the pages themselves. Among many

Introduction 9

other reasons, it is partly this anonymity that has made the poem so

attractive to latter-day translators. The lack of authorship seems to

serve as an invitation, opening up a space within the poem for a new

writer to occupy. Its comparatively recent rediscovery acts as a further

draw; if Milton or Pope had put their stamp on it, or if Dr. Johnson

had offered an opinion, or if Keats or Coleridge or Wordsworth had

drawn it into their orbit, such an invitation might now appear less

forthcoming.

The diction of the original tells us that its author was, broadly

speaking, a northerner. Or we might say a midlander. The linguis

tic epicenter is thought to be located somewhere between north

Staffordshire and south Lancashire. Some researchers claim to have

identified Swythamley Grange as the Castle of Hautdesert, or the

jagged peaks of The Roaches as those "rughe knokled knarres with

knorned stones," (21 66). Lud's Church, a natural fissure in the rocks

near the village of Flash, in Debyshire, has been proposed as the site

of the Green Chapel. "Hit hade a hole on the ende and on ayther syde,

I And overgrowen with gresse in glodes anywhere; I And a! was holw

inwith, nobot an olde cave I Or a crevisse of an olde cragge" (2180-

2 183). It may or may not be the place, but to stand in that mossy

cleft that cannot have changed much over the centuries is to believe

that the author had an actual landscape in mind when he conceived

the poem, and lured his young protagonist into a northern region to

legitimize his vocabulary and to make good use of his surrounding

geography. A similar strategy has informed this translation; although

my own part of England is separated from Lud's Church by the swol

len uplands of The Peak District, coaxing Gawain and his poem back

into the Pennines was always part of the plan.

Of course, to the trained medievalist the poem is perfectly read

able in its original form; no translation necessary. And even for the

nonspecialist, certain lines, such as, "Bot Arthure wolde not ete til a!

were served," (85), especially when placed within the context of the

I o I n t1·od11ction

narrative, present little problem. Conversely, lines such as "Forthi,

iwysse, bi yowre wylle, wende me bihoves," ( 1 065) are incompre

hensible to the general reader. But it is the lines that fall somewhere

between those extremes-the majority of lines, in fact-which fas

cinate the most. They seem to make sense, though not quite. To the

untrained eye, it is as if the poem is lying beneath a thin coat of ice,

tantalizingly near yet frustratingly blurred. To a contemporary poet,

one interested in narrative and form, the urge to blow a little warm

breath across that layer of frosting eventually proved irresistible.

And even more so to a northerner who not only recognizes plenty

of the poem's dialect but who detects an echo of his own speech

within the original. Words such as "bide" (wait), "nobut" (nothing

but), "childer" (children), "layke" (play), "karp" (talk), "bout" (with

out), "brid" (bird), "sam" (gather up), and "barlay" (truce) are still

in usage in these parts, though mainly (and sadly) among members

of the older generation.

Not all poems are stories, but Sir Gawain and the Green Knight most

certainly is. After briefly anchoring its historical credentials in the

siege of Troy, the poem quickly delivers us into Arrhurian Britain, at

Christmastime, with the knights of the Round Table in good humor

and full voice. But the festivities at Camelot are to be disrupted by

the astonishing appearance of a green knight. Not just a knight wear

ing green clothes, but a weird being whose skin and hair is green,

and whose horse is green as well. The gate-crasher lays down a seem

ingly absurd challenge, involving beheading and revenge. Alert to

the opportunity, a young knight, Gawain, Arthur's nephew, rises

from the table. What follows is a test of his courage and a test of his

heart, and during the ensuing episodes, which span an entire calen

dar year, Gawain must steel himself against fear and temptation. The

poem is also a ghost story, a thriller, a romance, an adventure story,

and a morality tale. For want of a better word, it is also a myth, and

like all great myths of the past its meanings seem to have adapted and

Introd!lction I I

evolved, proving itself eerily relevant six hundred years later. As one

example, certain aspects of Gawain's situation seem oddly redolent

of a more contemporary predicament, namely our complex and deli

cate relationship with the natural world. The Gawain poet had never

heard of climate change and was not a prophet anticipating the onset

of global warming. But medieval society lived hand in hand with

nature, and natu _ re was as much an enemy as a friend. It is not just

for decoration that the poem includes passages relating to the turn

ing of the seasons, or detailed accounts of the landscape, or graphic

descriptions of our dealings with the animal kingdom. The knight

who throws down the challenge at Camelot is both ghostly and real.

Supernatural, yes, but also flesh and blood. He is something in the

likeness of ourselves, and he is not purple or orange or blue with yel

l,ow stripes. Gawain must negotiate a deal with a man who wears the

colors of the leaves and the fields. He must strike an honest bargain

with this manifestation of nature, and his future depends on it.

Over the years there have been dozens, possibly hundreds of trans

lations of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, ranging from important

scholarly restorations, to freehanded poetic or prose versions, to exer

cises in form and technique by students of Middle English, many

of them posted on the Internet: Some translators, for perfectly valid

reasons and with great success, have chosen not to imitate its highly

alliterative form. But to me, alliteration is the warp and weft of the

poem, without which it is just so many fine threads. In some very

elemental way, the story and the sense of the poem is directly located

within its sound. The percussive patterning of the words serves to

reinforce their meaning and to countersink them within the memory.

So in trying to harmonize with the original rather than transcribe

every last word of it, certain liberties have been taken. This is not an

exercise in linguistic forensics or medieval history; the intention has

always been to produce a living, inclusive, and readable piece of work

in its own right.

12 Introduction

Readers of this parallel text edition are offered the opportunity of

allowing their eye to travel across the gutter of the book from an orig

inal line to its corresponding translation. Occasionally they will be

presented with something like a mirror image, or at least a striking

resemblance. The first line of the poem, for example, aside for the odd

bit of touching-up, is a fairly honest reproduction. Other lines, how

ever, will be less recognizable in their altered state. There is plenty to

argue with here, and for some commentators, this kind of approach

will always be unacceptable. But this is a poem, not a crib or a glos

sary, and in imitating the alliterative style of Sir Gawain and the Green

Knight i t is inevitable that the translator will be led away from the

words of the original and their direct contemporary equivalents. Take

the much discussed issue of the Gawain poet's many words for "knight"

or "man." Terms at his disposal included "freke," "hathel," "burne,"

"tulk," "segge," "schalk," and "gome." In a literal translation, with the

use of a dictionary, each of those obsolete words could be replaced by a

modern word of the same meaning, without too much agonizing over

its acoustic properties or pronunciation. But in an alliterative transla

tion those agonies must be experienced; in trawling for appropriate

substitute words the net must be cast wider. In the "bob and wheel"

sections where meter and rhyme also enter the equation, further devi

ations are inevitable. Lines 8 1-82 read: "The comlokest to discrye I

Ther glent with yyen gray" (Broadly speaking, the fairest to behold I

looked on with gray eyes). A literal translation gives us the cold facts of

Guinevere's beauty, yet the unspoken poetic intelligence suggests that

her eyes are precious- stones, more priceless than the "best gemmes"

mentioned in the previous line. Of all the jewels that surround her, it

is her own eyes that glint and gleam the most. My own poetic response

has been to introduce "quartz" and "queen," despite neither of those

words being present in the original lines. I hope that readers will be

able to see this as a kind of controlled and necessary flirtation, rather

than carefree unfaithfulness or mindless infidelity.

Introduction r 3

Aside from the technical requirements of the poem, there are other

reasons for departing from the literal, and those reasons are to do with

the very nature of poetry itself. Poetry is not just meaning and infor

mation. Poetry is about manner as much as it is about matter-the

manner in which words behave under certain conditions and in par

ticular surroundings. Such behaviors give poems their unique char

acter. Over time these behaviors change, or come to signify different

things, and their latter-day counterparts are more likely to be found

in the imagination than in the dictionary or the encyclopedia. For

this reason the poet who works as a translator will rarely be content

with a tit-for-tat exchange of one language into another, no matter

how scrupulous the transfer. Here is line 113 7:

By that any daylight lemed upon erthe

"By the time that some daylight shone upon earth" would be a rea

sonable l iteral translation. At first sight this not a particularly appeal

ing line. To begin with, it is one of the moments in the poem when

the alliteration falters. Also, for a description of the life-bringing

dawn, and as a curtain-raiser to one of the greatest hunting scenes

i n all literature, it ·seems pretty tame. But there is power. here, and

much of that power is invested in that single word "lemed," from an

Old Norse word, " lj6ma," meaning "to shine." It is not a word used

in English these days, which is a pity, because as a verb it has much

to recommend it. The. mouth opens to announce this word, and the

tongue pushes forward, launching that first "l ." Then something is

projected outward, from the breathed "e" to the agreeable, humming

"m," all the way through to that final "d," like a soft landing, the

laying down of light "upon" the ground. If it is onomatopoeic it is

also metaphorical, magical even, a one word image. It sign<tls to me

that poetry is at work here, and it seems to demand a poetic response.

My own, "So as morning was lifting its lamp to the land" introduces

1 4 Introduction

words and concepts that are foreign to the original line, but not, I

hope, out of keeping with its ambitions or intentions. Neither does it

derail the story line or contradict the basic facts. Ornamentation has

happened here, but hopefully the structural integrity has not been

compromised.

Returning to the subject of alliteration, it should be mentioned

that within each line it is the stressed syllables char count. A trans

Jared line like, "and retrieves the intestines in rime-honored style,"

( 16 12) might appear nor to alliterate ar first glance. Bur read it out

loud, and the repetition of that "t" sound-the rut-rutting, the spit

of revulsion, the squirming of the warm, wet tongue as it makes con

tact with the roof of the mouth-seems co suggest a physical rela

tionship with the action being described. If the technique is effective,

as well as understanding what we are being told we take a step closer

co acrmilly experiencing it. It is an attempt co combine meaning with

feeling. This is a translation nor only for the eye, bur for the ear and

rhe voice as well. Further co char, ir is worth noting that the pro

nunciation of our hero's very name is not universally agreed upon.

To many he is Gawain. The original author clearly alliterated on the

"G," suggesting he also stressed the first syllable of the word. Bur

there are other moments in the rext, such as the perfecrly iambic qua

train at 1948, where the rhythm suggests the opposite, as in Gawain,

which is the way I have always referred to him. For the convenience

of having my cake and eating it, sometimes I have allowed the tough

looking "G" to perform a visual alliteration, and sometimes I have

required the "w" to act as the load bearer.

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight is a poem that succeeds through

a series of vivid contrasts: standard English contrasting with collo

quial speech; the devotion and virtue of the young knight contrast

ing with rhe growling threats of his green foe; exchanges of courrly

love contrasting with none-roo-subtle sexual innuendo; exquisite

Introduction 1 s

robes and priceless crowns contrasting with spurting blood and the

steaming organs of butchered deer; polite, indoor society contrast

ing with the untamed, unpredictable outdoors . . . and so on. Those

contrasts stretch the imaginative universe of the poem and make it

three dimensional. Without the space they open up, there would be

no poem to speak of. The same contrasts can be observed in the form

of the poem as well as its tone, with elements of order and disorder

at work throughout, often operating simultaneously. On the side of

order we have the carefully crafted form, the very particular number

of verses, and the rhyme and rhythm of the bob and wheel sections.

On the side of disorder we have the unequal line lengths, the vari

able verse lengths, and the wildly fluctuating pace of the story. Even

the alliteration, a constant and insistent heartbeat for the most part,

misses a beat every now and again and flatlines completely on at least

one occasion. So within the strictures and confines of this very for

mal piece we detect a human presence, the Gawain poet, a disciplined

craftsman who also l iked to run risks and rake liberties. He would

appear to have set himself a series of rules, then consciously and con

spicuously gone about bending them. As his translator, I hope to have

been guided by his example.

r 6 Introduction

-Simon Armitage

.}. NOL"E ON mlbbLE ENGLIS h ffiEL"ER

S imon Armitage's introduction to his splendid translation of Sir

Gawain and the Green Knight provides all the basic informacion

a reader might need to appreciate chis work. For those readers who

wish to hear, and to read, the original text, a few words on the poem's

meter might be useful.

Metrical practice is determined by the deeper music of a language.

In Germanic languages, the tonic, or accented syllable, is usually

the first syllable of a word. In romance languages, by contrast, the

tonic syllable falls toward, or at the end, of words. Germanic poets

therefore highlight the beginning of words with alliteration, whereas

romance poets (e.g. , French or Italian) highlight the end of words

with rhyme.

Alliteration (from Latin litera, alphabetic letter) consists of the rep

etition of an initial consonant sound or consonant cluster in consec

utive or closely ·positioned words. Anglo-Saxon is the earlier, purely

Germanic form of English used in England from the time of the

Germanic invasions in the fifth century until the Norman Conquest

in 1066. All poetry in Anglo-Saxon is alliterative. Only after the

Norman Conquest, and the impact of French, did poets writing in

English begin co use rhyme as a fundamental pare of their metrical

practice. Anglo-Saxon poetry and metrical practice were for the most

pare displaced by models of continental poetry deploying rhyme, even

if there are some very brilliant, post-Conquest exceptions (notably

A Note on Middle EngliJh ivieter I 7

the alliterative Lawman's Bmt, c. 1 190). From the mid-fourreenrh

century, however, for reasons not fully undersrood, an extraordinary

range of alliterative poems appear. Ir seems likely that this body of

work constirutes a revival of an older metrical tradition. Poems writ

ten or somehow located in the west of England (narurally the most

conservative linguistically, given the pressure for change from the

east) from the middle of the fourteenth century use alli terative meter

in a wide range of poetic genres. To this group of texts, and in partic

ular ro a more refined, technically disciplined metrical practice char

acteristic of Norrh-Western texts, the remarkable Sir Gawain and the

Green Knight belongs. For all his commitment ro alliterative verse

of great technical virtuosity, however, the Gawain-poet also signals

that he's skilful in rhyme, too, since each stanza ends with five short

rhyming lines.

The poem is written in stanzas. The number of lines per stanza

varies. The line is longer, and does not contain a fixed number or pat

tern of stresses like the classical alliterative meter of Anglo-Saxon

poetry. The standard metrical pattern is a ala x, where a signifies an

alliterating, stressed syllable; I signifies a caesura; and x signifies a

nonalliterating stressed syllable. The poet frequently enriches this

pattern. Each stanza closes, as mentioned above, with five short lines,

rhyming a b a b a. The first of these rhyming lines contains just one

stress, and is called the "bob"; the four three stress lines that follow

are called the "wheel. "

1 8 A Note on Middle English Metel'

-james Simpson

SIR G�W�IN �Nb

ChE GREEN KNIGhC

Sithen the sege and the assaut was sesed at Troye,

The borgh brittened and brent to brondes and askes,

The tulk that the trammes of tresoun ther wroght

Was cried for his tricherie, the trewest on erthe.

Hit was Ennias the athel and his highe kynde

That sithen depreced provinces, and patrounes bicome

Welneghe of al the wele in the West Iles:

Fro riche Romulus to Rome ricchis hym swyrhe,

With gret bobbaunce that burghe he biges upon fyrst,

ro And nevenes hit his aune nome, as hit now hat;

Ticius to Tuskan, and teldes bigynnes;

Langaberde in Lumbardie lyftes up homes;

And fer over the French flod Felix Brutus

On mony bonkkes ful brode Bretayn he settes

wyth wynne,

Where werre and wrake and wonder

Bi sythes has wont therinne,

And oft bothe blysse and blunder

Ful skete has skyfted synne.

20 Ande quen this Bretayn was bigged bi this burn rych,

Bolde bredden therinne, baret that lofden,

In mony turned tyme rene that wroghten.

Mo ferlyes on this folde han fallen here oft

2 o Sir Grtwain a n d the G reen Knight

fi(T I

Once the siege and assault of Troy had ceased,

with the city a smoke-heap of cinders and ash,

the traitor who contrived such betrayal there

was tried for his treachery, the truest on earth;

so Aeneas, it was, with his noble warriors

went conquering abroad, laying claim to the crowns

of the wealthiest kingdoms in the western world.

Mighty Romulus quickly careered towards Rome

and conceived a city in magnificent style

10 which from then until now has been known by his name.

Ticius constructed townships in Tuscany

and Langobard did likewise building homes in Lombardy.

And further afield, over the Sea of France,

on Britain's broad hilltops, Felix Brutus made

his stand.

And wonder, dread and war

have lingered in that land

where loss and love in turn

have held the upper hand.

20 After Britain was built by this founding father

a bold race bred there, battle-happy men

causing trouble and torment in turbulent times,

and through history more strangeness has happened here

Simon A rm i tage 2 1

Then in any ocher that I woe, syn chat ilk cyme.

Bot of alle that here bulc of Bretaygne kynges

Ay was Arthur the hendest, as I hafherde telle.

Forthi an aunter in erde I attle to schawe,

That a selly in sight summe men hit holden,

And an outtrage awenture of Arthures wonderes.

30 If ye wyl lysten this laye bot on littel guile,

I schal telle hit astir, as I in toun herde,

with conge;

As hit is scad and stoken

In stori stif and strange,

With lel letteres loken,

In londe so has ben lange.

This kyng lay at Camylot upon Krystmasse

With many luflych lorde, ledes of the best,

Rekenly of the Rounde Table alle tho rich brether,

40 With rych revel oryght and rechles merthes.

Ther tournayed tulkes by cymes ful many,

Justed ful jolile thise gentyle knightes,

Sythen kayred to the court, caroles to make.

For ther the fest was ilyche ful fiften dayes,

With alle the mete and the mirthe that men couthe avyse:

Such glaum ande gle glorious to here,

Dere dyn upon day, daunsyng on nyghtes;

Al was hap upon heghe in halles and chambres

With lordes and ladies, as levest him thoght.

so With all the wele of the worlde thay waned ther samen,

The most kyd knyghtes under Krystes selven,

Arid the lovelokkest ladies that ever lif haden,

And he the comlokest kyng that the court haldes.

2 2 Sir Gawain a n d the Green Knight

than anywhere else I know of on Earth.

But most regal of rulers in the royal line

was Arthur, who I heard is honored above all,

and the inspiring story I intend to spin

has moved the hearts and minds of many

an awesome episode in the legends of Arthur.

30 So listen a little while to my tale if you will

and I'll tell it as it's told in the town where it trips from

the tongue;

and as it has been inked

in stories bold and strong,

through letters which, once linked,

have lasted loud and long.

It was Christmas at Camelot-King Arthur's court,

where the great and the good of the land had gathered,

all the righteous lords of the ranks of the Round Table

40 quite properly carousing and reveling in pleasure.

Time after time, in tournaments of joust,

they had lunged at each other with leveled lances

then returned to the castle to carry on their caroling,

for the feasting lasted a full fortnight and one day,

with more food and drink than a fellow could, dream of.

The hubbub of their humor was heavenly to hear:

pleasant dialogue by day and dancing after dusk,

so the house and its hall were lit with happiness

and lords and ladies were luminous with joy.

50 Such a coming together of the gracious and the glad:

the most chivalrous and courteous knights known to Christendom;

the most wonderful women to have walked in this world;

the handsomest king to be crowned at court.

S i 1non A rm itage 2 3

For al was this fayre folk in her first age

on sille,

The hapnest under heven,

Kyng hyghest mon of wylie;

Hit were now gret nye to neven

So hardy a here on hille.

6o Wyle Nw Yer was so yep that hit was nwe cummen,

That day doubble on the dece was the douth served,

Fro the kyng was cummen with knyghtes into the halle,

The chauntre of the chapel cheved to an ende.

Loude crye was ther kest of clerkes and other,

Nowel nayted onewe, nevened ful ofte;

And sythen riche forth runnen to reche hondeselle,

Yeyed yeres yiftes on high, yelde hem bi hond,

Debated busyly aboute tho giftes.

Ladies laghed ful loude, thogh thay lost haden,

70 And he that wan was not wrothe, that may ye wel trawe.

Alle this mirthe thay maden to the mete tyme.

When thay had waschen worthyly thay wenten to sere,

The best burne ay abof, as hit best semed;

Whene Guenore, ful gay, graythed in the myddes,

Dressed on the dere des, dubbed al aboute

Smal sendal bisides, a selure hir over

Of tryed Tolouse, of Tars tapites innoghe,

That were enbrawded and beten wyth the best gemmes

That myght be preved of prys wyth penyes to bye

in daye.

The comlokest to discrye

Ther glent with yyen gray;

A semloker that ever he syye,

Soth moght no mon say.

2 4 Sir Gawain and t h e Green Knight

Fine folk with their futures before them, there in

· that hall.

Their highly honored king

was happiest of all:

no nobler knights had come

within a castle's wall.

6o With New Year so young it still yawned and stretched

helpings were doubled on the dais that day.

And as king and company were coming to the hall

the choir in the chapel fell suddenly quiet,

then a chorus erupted from the courtiers and clerks:

"Noel," they cheered, then "Noel, Noel,"

"New Year Gifts!" the knights cried next

as they pressed forwards to offer their presents,

teasing with frivolous favors and forfeits,

till rhose ladies who lost couldn't help but laugh,

70 and the undefeated were far from forlorn.

Their merrymaking rolled on in this manner until mealtime,

when, washed and worthy, they went to the table,

and were seated in order of honor, as was apt,

with Guinevere in their gathering, gloriously framed

at her place on the platform, pricelessly curtained

by silk to each side, and canopied across

with French weave and fine tapestry from the far east

studded with stones and stunning gems.

Pearls beyond pocket. Pearls beyond purchase

or price.

But not one stone outshone

the quartz of the queen's eyes;

with hand on heart, no one

could argue otherwise.

Simon A rmitage 2 5

Bot Arthure wolde not ete til al were served,

He was so joly of his joyfnes, and sumquat childgered:

His lif liked hym lyght, he lovied the lasse

Auther to longe lye or to longe sitte,

So bisied him his yonge blod and his brayn wylde.

90 And also another maner meved him eke,

That he thurgh nobelay had nomen he wolde never ete

Upon such a dere day, er hym devised were

Of sum aventurus thyng an uncouthe tale,

Of sum mayn mervayle, that he myght trawe,

Of alderes, of armes, of other aventurus;

Other sum segg hym bisoght of sum siker knyght

To joyne wyth hym in justyng, in joparde to lay,

Lede lif for lyf, leve uchon other,

As fortune wolde fulsun hom, the fayrer to have.

1oo This was kynges countenaunce where he in court were,

At uch farand fest among his fre meny

in halle.

Therfore of face so fere

He stightles stif in stalle;

Ful yep in that Nw Yere,

Much mirthe he mas with aile.

Thus ther srondes in stale the stif kyng hisselven,

Talkkande bifore the hyghe table of trifles ful hende.

There gode Gawan was graythed Gwenore bisyde,

' 1 0 And Agravayn a la dure mayn on that other syde sittes,

Bothe the kynges sister sunes and ful siker knightes;

Bischop Bawdewyn abof bigines the table,

And Ywan, Uryn son, ette with hymselven.

Thise were dight on the des and derworthly served,

And sithen mony siker segge at the sidbordes.

2 6 Sir Gawain and the G reen Knight

But Arthur would not eat until all were served.

He brimmed with ebullience, being almost boyish

in his love of life, and what he liked the least

was to sit still watching the seasons slip by.

His blood was busy and he buzzed with thoughts,

90 and the matter which played on his mind at that moment

was his pledge to take no portion from his plate

on such a special day until a story was told:

some far-fetched yarn or outrageous fable,

the tallest of tales, yet one ringing with truth,

like the action-packed epics of men-at-arms.

Or till some chancer had challenged his chosen knight,

dared him, with a lance, to lay life on the line,

to stare death face-to-face and accept defeat

should fortune or fate smile more favorably on his foe.

1oo Within Camelot's castle this was the custom,

and at feasts and festivals when the fellowship

would meet.

With features proud and fine

he stood there tall and straight,

a king at Christmastime

amid great merriment.

And still he stands there just being himself,

chatting away charmingly, exchanging views.

Good Sir Gawain is seated by Guinevere,

1 1 0 and at Arthur's other side sits Agravain the Hard Hand,

both nephews of the king and notable knights.

At the head sat Bishop Baldwin as Arthur's guest of honor,

with Ywain, son ofUrien, to eat beside him.

And as soon as the nobles had sampled the spread

the stalwarts on the benches to both sides were served.

Simon A rmitage 2 7

Then the first cors come with crakkyng of trumpes,

Wyth mony baner ful bryght that therbi henged;

Nwe nakryn noyse with the noble pipes,

Wylde werbles and wyght wakned lore,

120 That mony herr ful highe hef at her towches.

Dayntes dryven therwyth of ful dere metes,

Foysoun of the fresche, and on so fele disches

That pine to fynde the place the peple biforne

For to sette the sylveren that sere sewes halden

on clothe.

Iche lede as he loved hymselve

Ther laght withouten lothe;

Ay two had disches twelve,

Good ber and bryght wyn bothe.

1 30 Now wyl I of hor servise say yow no more,

J40

For uch wyye may wel wit no wont that ther were.

An other noyse ful newe neghed bilive,

That the lude myght haf leve liflode to each.

For unethe was the noyce not a whyle sesed,

And the fyrst cource in the court kyndely served,

Ther hales in at the halle dor an aghlich mayster,

On the most on the molde on mesure hyghe,

Fro the swyre to the swange so sware and so thik,

And his lyndes and his lymes so longe and so grete,

Half etayn in erde I hope that he . were;

Bot mon most I algate mynn hym to bene,

And that the myriest in his muckel that myght ride,

For of bak and of brest al were his bodi sturne,

Both his wombe and his wast were worthily smale,

And alle his fetures folwande in forme that he hade,

ful clene.

2 8 S i r Gawain and the G reen Knight

The first course comes in to the fanfare and clamor

of blasting trumpet. s hung with trembling banners,

then pounding double-drums and dinning pipes,

weird sounds and wails of such warbled wildness

12o that to hear and feel them made the heart float free.

Flavorsome delicacies of flesh were fetched in

and the freshest of foods, so many in fact

there was scarcely space to present the stews

or to set the soups in the silver bowls on

the cloth.

Each guest received his share

of bread or meat or broth;

a dozen plates per pair

plus beer or wine, or both!

1 30 Now, on the subject of supper I'll say no more

as it's obvious to everyone that no one went without.

Because another sound, a new sound, suddenly drew near,

which might signal the king to sample his supper,

for barely had the horns finished blowing their breath

and with starters just spooned to the seated guests,

a fearful form appeared, framed in the door:

a mountain of a man, immeasurably high,

a hulk of a human from head to hips,

so long and thick in his loins and his limbs

140 I should genuinely judge him to be a half giant,

or a most massive man, the mightiest of mortals.

But handsome, coo, like any horseman worth his horse,

for despite the bulk and brawn of his body

his stomach and waist were slender and sleek.

In fact in all features he was finely formed

it seemed.

Simon A rmitage 2 9

For wonder of his hwe men hade,

Set in his semblaunt sene;

He ferde as freke were fade,

And overal enker grene.

Ande al graythed in grene this gome and his wedes:

A strayt cote ful streght that stek on his sides,

A mere mantile abof, mensked withinne

With pelure pured apert, the pane ful clene

With blythe blaunner ful bryght, and his hod bothe,

That was laghr fro his lokkes and layde on his schulderes;

Heme, wel-haled hose of that same grene,

That spenet on his sparlyr, and clene spures under

Of bryghr golde, upon silk bordes barred ful ryche,

1 6o And scholes under schankes there the schalk rides.

And aile his vesture verayly was clene verdure,

Bothe the barres of his belt and ocher blythe stones,

That were richely rayled in his aray clene

Aboucte hymself and his sadel, upon silk werkes,

That were to tor for to telle of tryfles the halve

That were enbrauded abof, wyth bryddes and flyyes,

With gay gaudi of grene, the golde ay inmyddes.

The pendauntes of his payttrure, the proude cropure,

His molaynes and aile the metail anamayld was thenne;

q o The steropes that he stod on stayned of the same,

And his arsouns al after and his athel skurtes,

That ever glemered and glent al of grene stones.

The fole that he ferkkes on fyn of that ilke,

serrayn:

A grene hors grer and rhikke,

A srede ful stif to strayne,

3 o S ir Gawa i n a n d the Green Knight

Amazement seized their minds,

no soul had ever seen

a knight of such a kind

entirely emerald green.

And his gear and garments were green as well:

a tight fitting tunic, tailored to his torso,

and a cloak to cover him, che cloth fully lined

with smoothly shorn fur clearly showing, and faced

with all-white ermine, as was the hood,

worn shaw led on his shoulders, shucked from his head.

On his lower limbs his leggings were also green,

wrapped closely round his calves, and his sparlding spurs

were green-gold, strapped with stripy silk,

r6o and were set on his stockings, for this stranger was shoeless.

In all vestments he revealed himself veritably verdant!

From his belt hooks and buckle to the baubles and gems

arrayed so richly around his costume

and adorning the saddle, stitched onto silk.

All the details of his dress are difficult to describe,

embroidered as it was with butterflies and birds,

green beads emblazoned on a background of gold.

All the horse's tack-harness strap, hind scrap,

the eye of the bit , each alloy and enamel

r7o and the stirrups he stood in were similarly tinted,

and the same with the cantle and the skirts of the saddle,

all glimmering and glinting with the greenest jewels.

And the horse: every hair was green, from hoof

to mane.

A steed of pure green stock.

Each snore and shudder strained

S i m o n A rmitage 3 I

In brawden brydel quik

To the gome he was ful gayn.

Wel gay was chis gome gered in grene,

rBo And the here of his hed of his hors swece.

Fayre fannand fax umbefoldes his schulderes;

A much berd as a busk over his brest henges,

That wyth his highlich here that of his hed reches

Was evesed al umbetorne abof his elbowes,

That half his armes cherunder were halched in the wyse

Of a kynges capados that closes his swyre.

The mane of chat mayn hors much to hit lyke,

Wei cresped and cemmed, wyth knoctes ful mony

Folden in wyth fildore aboute the fayre grene,

r9o Ay a herle of the here, an other of golde.

200

The tayl and his toppyng twynnen of a sure,

And bounden bothe wyth a bande of a bryghc grene,

Dubbed wyth ful dere scones, as the dok lasted;

Sychen chrawen wyth a thwong, a chwarle-knot alofte,

Ther mony belles ful bryght of hrende golde rungen.

Such a fole upon folde, ne freke that hym rydes,

Was never sene in chat sale wych syght er that cyme,

with yye.

He loked as layt so lyght,

So sayd al that hym syye;

Hie semed as no mon myghc

Under his dynctes dryye.

Whether hade he no helme ne hawbergh nauther,

Ne no pysan, ne no place that pented to armes,

Ne no schafte, ne no schelde, co schwve ne co smyte,

Bot in his on honde he hade a holyn bobbe,

3 2 Sir G awain and the G reen Knight

the hand-stitched bridle, but

his rider had him reined.

The fellow in green was in fine fettle.

rBo The hair of his head was as green as his horse,

fine flowing locks which fanned across his back,

plus a bushy green beard growing down to his breast,

and his face hair along with the hair of his head

was lopped in a line at elbow length

so half his arms were gowned in green growth,

crimped at the collar, like a king's cape.

The mane of his mount was groomed to match,

combed and knotted into curlicues

then tinseled with gold, tied and twisted

190 green over gold, green over gold . . . .

The fetlocks were finished in the same fashion

with bright green ribbon braided with beads,

as was the tail-to its tippety-tip!

And a long, tied thong lacing it tight

was strung with gold bells which resounded and shone.

No waking man had witnessed such a warrior

or weird warhorse--otherworldly, yet flesh

and bone.

A look of lightning flashed

2oo from somewhere in his soul.

The force of that man's fist

would be a thunderbolt.

Yet he wore no helmet and no hauberk either,

no armored apparel or plate was apparent,

and he swung no sword nor sported any shield,

but held in one hand a sprig of holly-

S i m o n A rm itage 3 3

That is grattest in grene when greves ar bare,

And an ax in his other, a hoge and unmete,

A spetos sparthe to expoun in spelle, quo-so myght.

2 1 o The hede of an elnyerde the large lenkthe hade,

The grayn al of grene stele and of golde hewen,

The bit burnyst bryght, with a brod egge

As wel schapen to schere as scharp rasores.

The stele of a stif staf rhe srurne hit bi grypte,

That was wounden wyth yrn to the wandes ende,

And al bigraven with grene in gracias werkes;

A lace lapped aboute, that louked at the hede,

And so after the halme halched ful ofte,

Wyth tryed tasseles therto tacched innoghe

220 On botouns of the bryghr grene brayden ful ryche.

This hathel heldes hym in and the halle entres,

Drivande to the heghe dece, dut he no wothe.

Haylsed he never one, bot heghe he over loked.

The fyrst word that he warp: "Wher is," he sayd,

"The governour of this gyng? Gladly I wolde

Se that segg in syght, and with hymself speke

raysoun."

To knyghtes he kest his yye,

And reled hym up and doun,

He stemmed and con studie

Quo walt ther most renoun.

Ther was lokyng on lenthe, the lude to beholde,

For uch mon had mervayle quat hit mene myght

That a hathel and a horse myght such a hwe lach

As growe grene as the gres and grener hit semed,

Then grene aumayl on golde glowande bryghter.

Al studied that ther stod, and stalked hym nerre,

3 4 Sir Gawain and the G rem Knight

of all the evergreens the greenest ever-

and in the other hand held the mother of all axes,

a cruel piece of kit I kid you not:

2 1 0 the head was an ell in length at least

and forged in green steel with a gilt finish;

the skull-busting blade was so stropped and buffed it could shear a man's scalp and shave him to boot.

The handle which fitted that fiend's ,great fist

was inlaid with iron, end to end,

with green pigment picking out impressive designs.

From stock to neck, where it stopped with a knot,

a lace was looped the length of the haft,

trimmed with tassels and tails of string

220 fastened firmly in place by forest-green buttons.

230

And he kicks on, canters through that crowded hall

towards the top table, not the least bit timid,

cocksure of himself, sitting high in the saddle.

"And who," he bellows, without breaking breath,

" is governor of this gaggle? I'll be glad to know.

It's with him and him alone that I'll have

my say."

The green man steered his gaze

deep into every eye,

expiored each person's face

to probe for a reply.

The guests looked on. They gaped and they gawked

and were mute with amazement: what did it mean

that human and horse could develop this hue,

should grow to be grass-green or greener still,

like green enamel emboldened by bright gold?

Some stood and stared then stepped a little closer,

Simon A rmitage 3 5

Wyth al the wonder of the worlde what he worch schulde.

For fele sellyes had thay sen, bot such never are;

24o Forthi for fantoum and fayryye the folk there hit demed.

Therfore to answare was arwe mony athel freke,

And a! stouned at his steven and stonstil seten

In a swoghe sylence thurgh the sale ric�e: As al were slypped upon slepe so slaked hor lotes

in hyye.

I deme hit not al for doute,

Bot sum for cortaysye;

Bot let hym that al schulde loute

Cast unto that wyye.

2 5 o Thenn Arthour bifore the high dece that aventure byholdes,

And rekenly hym reverenced, for rad was he never,

And sayde: "Wyye, welcum iwys to this place,

The hede of this ostel Arthour I hat.

Light luflych adoun and lenge, I the praye,

And quat-so thy wylle is we schal wyt after."

"Nay, as help me," quoth the hathel, "he that on hyghe syrtes,

To wone any quyle in this won, hit was not myn ernde.

Bot for the los of the, lede, is lyft up so hyghe,

And thy burgh and thy burnes best ar holden,

26o Stifest under stel-gere on stedes to ryde,

The wyghtest and the worthyest of the worldes kynde,

Preve for to play wyth in other pure laykes,

And here is kydde cortaysye, as I haf herd carp,

And that has wayned me hider, iwyis, at this tyme.

Ye may be seker bi this braunch that I bere here

That I passe as in pes, and no plyght seche.

For had I founded in fere, in feghtyng wyse,

I have a hauberghe at home and a helme bothe,

3 6 Sir Gawain and the G reen Knight

drawn near to the knight to know his next move;

they'd seen some sights, but this was something special,

240 a miracle or magic, or so they imagined.

Yet several of the lords were like statues in their seats,

left speechless and rigid, not risking a response.

The hall fell hushed, as if all who were present

had slipped into sleep or some trancelike state.

No doubt

not all were stunned and stilled

by dread, but duty bound

to hold their tongues until

their sovereign could respond.

250 Then the king acknowledged this curious occurrence,

cordially addressed him, keeping his cool.

"A warm welcome, sir, this winter's night.

My name is Arthur, I am head of this house.

Won't you slide from that saddle and stay awhile,

and the business which brings you we shall learn of later."

"No," said the knight, "it's not in my nature

to idle or allack about this evening.

But because your acclaim is so loudly chorused,

and your castle and brotherhood are called the best,

26o the strongest men to ever mount the saddle,

the worthiest knights ever known to the world,

both in competition and true combat,

and since courtesy, so it's said, is championed here,

I 'm intrigued, and attracted to your door at this time.

Be assured by this hollin stem here in my hand

that I mean no menace. So expect no malice,

for if I'd slogged here tonight to slay and slaughter

my helmet and hauberk wouldn't be at home

S i m o n A rmitage 3 7

A schelde and a scharp spere, schinande bryght,

270 Ande other weppenes to welde, I wene wei, als;

Bot for I wolde no were, my wedes ar softer.

Bot if thou be so bold as aile burnes tellen,

Thou wyl grant me godly the gomen that I ask

bi ryght."

Arthour con onsware,

And sayd: "Sir cortays knyght,

If thou crave batayl bare,

Here fayles thou not to fyght."

"Nay, frayst I no fyght, in fayth I the telle.

28o Hit arn aboute on this bench bot berdles chylder;

If l were hasped in acmes on a heghe stede,

Here is no mon me to mach, for myghtes so wayke.

Forthy I crave in this court a'Crystemas gomen,

For hit is Yo! and Nwe Yer, and here ar yep mony.

If any so hardy in this hou holdes hymselven,

Be so bolde in his blod, brayn in hys hede,

That dar stifly strike a strok for an other,

I schal gif hym of my gyft thys giserne ryche,

This ax, that is heve innogh, to hondele as hym lykes,

290 And I schal bide the fyrst bur, as bare as I sitte.

If any freke be so felle to fonde that I telle,

Lepe lyghtly me to, and lach this weppen-

I quit-clayme hit for ever, kepe hit as his auen.

And I schal stonde hym a strok, stif on this flee,

Elles thou wyl dight me the dom to dele hym an other,

barlay;

And yet gif hym respite

A twelmonyth and a day.

3 8 Sir Gawai n and the G reen Knight

and my sword and spear would be here at my side,

270 and more weapons of war, as I'm sure you're aware;

I'm clothed for peace, not kitted out for conflict.

But if you're half as honorable as I've heard folk say

you'll gracefully grant me this game which I ask for

by right."

Then Arthur answered, "Knight

most courteous, you claim

a fair, unarmored fight.

We'll see you have the same."

''I'm spoiling for no scrap, I swear. Besides,

2Bo the bodies on these benches are just bum-fluffed bairns . .

If I'd ridden to your castle rigged out for a ruck

these lightweight adolescents wouldn't last a minute.

But it's Yuletide-a time of youthfulness, yes?

So at Christmas in this court I lay down a challenge:

if a person here present, within these premises,

is big or bold or red blooded enough

to strike me one stroke and be struck in return,

I shall give him as a gift this gigantic cleaver

and the axe shall be his to handle how he likes.

290 I'll kneel, bare my neck and take the first knock.

So who has the gall? The gumption? The guts?

Who'll spring from his seat and snatch this weapon?

I offer the axe-who'll have it as his own?

I'll afford one free hit from which I won't flinch,

and promise that twelve months will pass in peace,

then claim

the duty I deserve

in one year and one day.

Simon A rmitage 3 9

300

Now hyye, and let se cite

Dar any herinne oght say. "

If he hem stow ned upon fyrst, stiller were thanne

Alle the heredmen in halle, the hygh and the lowe.

The renk on his counce hym ruched in his sadel,

And runischly his rede yyen he reled aboute,

Bende his bresed browes, blycande grene,

Wayved his berde for to wayte quo-so wolde ryse.

When non wolde kepe hym with carp he coghed ful hyghe,

Ande rimed hym ful richly, and ryght hym to speke:

"What, is this Archures hous," quoth the hathel thenne,

3 10 "That al the rous rennes of thurgh ryalmes so mony?

320

Where is now your sourquydrye and your conquestes,

Your gryndellayk and your greme and your grete wordes?

Now is the revel and the renoun of the Rounde Table

Overwalt wyth a worde of on wyyes speche,

For al dares for drede wichoute dyne schewed!"

Wyth this he laghes so loude that the lorde greved;

The blod schot for scham into his schyre face

and lere.

He wex as wroth as wynde;

So did alle that ther were.

The kyng, as kene bi kynde,

Then stod that stif mon nere.

Ande sayde: "Hathel, by heven thyn askyng is nys,

And as thou foly has frayst, fynde the behoves.

I know no gome that is gast of thy grete wordes.

Gif me now thy geserne, upon Godes halve,

And I schal baychen thy bone that thou boden habbes. "

Lyghtly lepes he hym to, and laghc at his honde;

4 0 Sir Gawai-n a n d the G reen Knight

300

3 1 0

320

Does no one have the nerve

to wager in this way?"

Flustered at first, now totally foxed

were the household and the lords, both the highborn and the low.

Still stirruped, the knight swiveled round in his saddle

looking left and right, his red eyes rolling

beneath the bristles of his bushy green brows,

his beard swishing from side to side.

When the court kept its counsel he cleared his throat

and stiffened his spine. Then he spoke his mind:

"So here is the House of Arthur," he scoffed,

"whose virtues reverberate across vast realms.

Where's the fortitude and fearlessness you're so famous for?

And the breathtaking bravery and the big-mouth bragging?

The cowering reputation of the Round Table,

skittled and scuppered by a stranger-what a scandal! I

You flap and you flinch and I've not raised a finger!"

Then he laughed so loud that their leader saw red.

Blood flowed to his fine-featured face and he raged

inside.

His men were also hurt-

those words had pricked their pride.

But born so brave at heart

the king stepped up one stride.

"Your request," he countered, "is quite insane,

and folly finds the man who flirts with the fool.

No warrior worth his salt would be worried by your words,

so in heaven's good name hand over the axe

and I'll happily fulfil the favor you ask."

He strides to him swiftly and seizes his arm;

Simon A 1·mitage 4 I

Then feersly that other freke upon fore lyghris.

330 Now has Arrhure his axe, and the halme grypes,

340

And srurnely stures hit abouce, that �tryke wyth hit thoght.

The stif mon hym bifore stod upon hyght,

Herre then ani in the hous by the hede and more.

Wyth srurne schere ther he stod he stroked his berde,

And wyth a countenaunce dryye he draw doun his core,

No more mate ne dismayd for hys mayn dimes

Then any burne upon bench hade broght hym to drynk

ofwyne.

Gawan, that sate bi the quene,

To the kyng he can enclyne:

"I beseche now with sawes sene

This melly mot be myne."

"Walde ye, worrhilych lorde," quoth Wawan to the kyng,

"Bid me bowe fro this benche and stonde by yow there,

That I wyrhouce vylanye myght voyde this table,

And that my Iegge lady lyked not ille,

I wolde com to your counseyl bifore your core ryche.

For me think hit not semly, as hit is soth knawen,

Ther such an askyng is hevened so hyghe in your sale,

350 Thagh ye yourself be talenttyf, to take hit to yourselven,

Whil mony so bolde yow aboute upon bench sytten,

That under heven, I hope, non hagherer of wylle,

Ne better bodyes on bent ther baret is rered.

I am the wakkest, I wot, and of wyt feblest,

And lest lur of my lyf, quo laytes the sothe.

Bot for as much as ye ar myn em, I am only to prayse:

No bounce bot your blod I in my bode knowe.

And sythen this note is so nys that noght hit yow falles,

And I have frayned hit at yow fyrst, foldes hit to me;

4 2 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

the man-mountain dismounts in one mighty leap.

330 Then Arthur grips the axe, grabs it by its haft

and cakes it above him, intending co attack.

Yet the stranger before him stands up straight,

highest in the house by at least a head.

340

Quite simply he stands there stroking his beard,

fiddling with his coat, his face without fear,

about to be bludgeoned, but no more bothered

than a guest at the table being given a goblet

of wine.

By Guinevere, Gawain

now to his king inclines

and says, "I stake my claim.

This moment must be mine."

"Should you call me, courteous lord," said Gawain to his king,

"to rise from my seat and stand at your side,

politely take leave of my place at the table

and quit without causing offence to my queen,

chen I shall come to your counsel before chis great court.

For I find it unfitting, as my fellow knights would,

when a deed of such daring is dangled before us

350 that you cake on this trial-tempted as you are

when brave, bold men are seated on these benches,

men never matched in the mettle of their minds,

never beaten or bettered in the field of battle.

I am weakest of your warriors and feeblest of wit;

loss of my life would be grieved che lease.

Were I not your nephew my life would mean nothing;

to be born of your blood is my body's only claim.

Such a foolish affair is unfitting for a king,

so, being first to come forward, it should fall to me.

Simon A rmitage 4 3

And ifl carp not comlyly, let aile this cort rych

bout blame."

Ryche togeder con roun,

And sythen thay redden aile same

To ryd the kyng wyth croun,

And gif Gawan the game.

Then comaunded the kyng the knyght for to ryse,

And he ful radly up ros and ruchched hym fayre,

· Kneled doun bifore the kyng, and caches that weppen;

And he luflyly hit hym !aft, and lyfte up his honde

370 And gefhym Goddes blessyng, and gladly hym biddes

That his hert and his honde schulde hardi be bothe.

"Kepe the, cosyn," quoth the kyng, "chat thou on kyrf sette,

And if thou redes hym ryghc, redly I crowe

That chou schal byden the bur that he schal bede after. "

Gawan gos co the gome, with giserne inhonde,

And he baldly hym bydes, he bayst never the helder.

Then carppes to Sir Gawan the knyghc in the grene:

"Refourme we oure forwardes, er we fyrre passe.

Fyrst I ethe the, hache!, how that thou hattes,

3ao That thou me telle truly, as I tryst may."

"In god faych," quoth the goode knyght, "Gawan I harte,

That bede the this buffet, quat-so bifalles after,

And at this tyme twelmonyth take at the another

Wyth what weppen so thou wylt, and wych no wyy elles

on lyve. "

That ocher onswares agayn:

"Sir Gawan, so mot I thryve,

As I am ferly fayn

This dint that chou schal dryve."

4 4 Sir Gawa i n a n d the Green Knight p

36o And if my proposal is improper, let no other person

stand blame."

The knighthood then unites

and each knight says the same:

their king can stand aside

and give Gawain the game.

So the sovereign instructed his knight to stand.

Getting to his feet he moved graciously forward

and knelt before Arthur, taking hold of the axe.

Letting go of it, Arthur then held up his hand

370 to give young Gawain the blessing of God

and hope he finds firmness in heart and fist.

"Take care, young cousin, to catch him cleanly,

use full-blooded force then you needn't fear

the blow which he threatens to trade in return."

Gawain, with the weapon, walked towards the warrior,

and they stood face-to-face, not one man afraid.

Then the green knight spoke, growled at Gawain:

"Before we compete, repeat what we've promised.

And start by saying your name to me, sir,

3Bo and tell me the truth so I can take it on trust."

"In good faith, it's Gawain," said the God-fearing knight,

"I heave this axe, and whatever happens after,

in twelvemonth's time I'll be struck in return

with any weapon you wish, and by you and you

alone."

The other answers, says

"Well , by my living bones,

I welcome you Gawain

to bring the blade-head home."

Simon A rmitage 4 5

390 "Bi gog," quoth the grene knyght, "Sir Gawan, me lykes

That I schal fange at thy fust that I haf frayst here.

And thou has redily rehersed, bi resoun ful trwe,

Clanly al the covenaunt that I the kynge asked,

Saf that thou schal siker me, segge, bi thi trawthe,

That thou schal sec he me thiself, where-so thou hopes

I may be funde upon folde, and foch the such wages

As thou deles me to-day bifore this douche ryche. "

"Where schulde I wale the," quoth Gauan, "where i s thy place?

I wot never where thou wonyes, bi hym that me wroght,

400 Ne I know not the, knyght, thy cort ne thi name.

Bot teche me truly therto, and telle me howe thou hattes,

And I schal ware aile my wyt to wynne me theder;

And that I swere the for sothe, and by my seker traweth."

"That is innogh in Nwe Yer, hit nedes no more,"

Quoth the gome in the grene to Gawan the hende:

"Yif l the telle trwly, quen I the tape have

And thou me smothely has smyten, smartly I the teche

Of my hous and my home and myn owen nome.

Then may thou frayst my fare, and forwardes holde;

4 10 And ifl spende no speche, thenne spedes thou the better,

For thou may !eng in thy londe and layt no fyrre-

bot slokes!

Ta now thy grymme tole to the,

And let se how thou cnokes."

"Gladly, sir, for sothe,"

Quoth Gawan; his ax he strokes.

The grene knyght upon grounde graythely hym dresses:

A littel lut with the hede, the !ere he discoveres;

His Ionge lovelych lokkes he layd over his croun,

420 Let the naked nee to the note schewe.

4 6 S i r Gawain and the c ,·een K1zight

39o "Gawain," said the green knight, "by God, I'm glad

the favor I've called for will fall from your fist.

You've perfectly repeated the promise we've made

and the terms of the contest are crystal clear.

Except for one thing: you must solemnly swear

that you'll seek me yourself; that you'll search me out

to the ends of the earth to earn the same blow

as you'll dole out today in this decorous hall. "

"But where will you be? Where's your abode?

You're a man of mystery, as God is my maker.

4oo Which court do you come from and what are you called?

There is knowledge I need, including your name,

then by wit I'll work out the way to your door

and keep to our contract, so cross my heart."

"But enough at New Year. It needs nothing more,"

said the war man in green to worthy Gawain.

"I could tell you the truth once you've taken the blow;

if you smite me smartly I could spell out the facts

of my house and home and my name, if it helps,

then you'll pay me a visit and vouch for our pact.

4 r o Or if I keep quiet you might cope much better,

loafing and lounging here, looking no further. But

you stall!

Now grasp that gruesome axe

and show your striking style."

He answered, "Since you ask,"

and couched the tempered steel.

In the standing position he prepared to be struck,

bent forward, revealing a flash of green flesh

as he heaped his hair to the crown of his head,

420 the nape of his neck now naked and ready.

S imo11 A rmitage 4 7

Gauan gripped to his ax and gederes hit on hyght,

The kay fot on the folde he before sette,

Let hit doun lyghtly lyght on the naked,

That the scharp of the schalk schyndered the bones,

And schrank thurgh the schyire grece, and scade hit in twynne,

That the bit of the broun stel bot on the ground!=.

The fayre hede fro the halce hit to the erthe,

That fele hit foyned wyth her fete, there hit forth roled;

The blod brayd fro the body, that blykked on the grene.

430 And nawther faltered ne fel the freke never the helder,

Bot stythly he start forth upon styf schonkes,

And runyschly he raght out, there as renkkes stoden,

Laght to his lufly hed, and lyft hit up sone;

And sythen bowes to his blonk, the brydel he cachches,

Steppes into stel-bawe and strydes alofte,

And his hede by the here in his honde haldes.

And as sadly the segge hym in his sadel sette

As non unhap had hym ayled, thagh hedles nowe

in stedde.

440 He brayde his bluk aboute,

That ugly bodi that bledde;

Moni on of hym had doute,

Bi that his resouns were redde.

For the hede in his honde he haldes up even,

Toward the derrest on the dece he dresses the face;

And hit lyfte up the yye-lyddes, and loked ful brode,

And meled thus much with his muthe, as ye may now here:

"Loke, Gawan, thou be graythe to go as thou hettes,

And layte as lelly til thou me, lude, fynde,

450 As thou has bette in this halle, herande thise knyghtes.

To the grene chapel thou chose, I charge the, to forte

4 8 Sir Gawain a n d the G reen K n ight

Gawain grips the axe and heaves it heavenwards,

plants his left foot firmly on the floor in front,

then swings it swiftly towards the bare skin.

The cleanness of the strike cleaved the spinal cord

and parted the fat and the flesh so far

that the bright steel blade took a bite from the floor.

The handsome head tumbles onto the earth

and the king's men kick it as it clatters past.

Blood gutters brightly against his green gown,

430 yet the man doesn't shudder or stagger or sink

440

but trudges towards them on those tree-trunk legs

and rummages around, reaches at their feet

and cops hold of his head and hoists it high,

and strides to his steed, snatches the bridle,

steps into the stirrup and swings into the saddle

still gripping his head by a handful of hair.

Then he settles himself in his seat with the ease

of a man unmarked, never mind being minus

his head!

And when he wheeled about

his bloody neck still bled.

His point was proved. The court

was deadened now with dread.

For that scalp and skull now swung from his fist;

towards the top table he turned the face

and it opened its eyelids, stared straight ahead

and spoke this speech, which you'll hear for yourselves:

"Sir Gawain, be wise enough to keep your word

and faithfully follow me until I 'm found

450 as you vowed in this hall within hearing of these horsemen.

You're charged with getting to the Green Chapel,

Simon A rm i tage 4 9

Such a dune as thou has dalt--disserved thou habbes

To be yederly yolden on Nw Yeres morn.

The knyght of the grene chapel men knowen me mony;

Forthi me for to fynde, if thou fraystes, fayles thou never.

Therfore com, other recreaunt be calde the behoveus."

With a runisch rout the raynes he tornes,

Hailed out at the hal-dor, his hed in his hande,

That the fyr of the flynt flawe fro fole haves.

46o To quat kyth he becom knwe non there,

Never more then thay wyste fram quethen he was wonnen.

What thenne?

The kyng and Gawen thare

At that grene thay laghe and grenne;

Yet breved was hit ful bare

A mervayl among tho menne.

Thagh Archer the hende kyng at here hade wonder,

He let no semblaunt be sene, bot sayde ful hyghe

To the comlych quene, wyth cortays speche:

470 "Dere dame, to-day demay yow never;

Wel bycommes such craft upon Cristmasse,

Laykyng of enterludes, to laghe �nd to syng Among thise kynde caroles of knyghtes and lad yes.

Never-the-Ieee to my mete I may me wei dres,

For I haf sen a selly, I may not forsake."

He glent upon Sir Gawen and gaynly he sayde:

"Now sir, heng up chyn ax, that has innogh hewen."

And hit was don abof the dece, on closer to henge,

Ther alle men for mervayl myght on hit Joke,

48o And bi trwe tyee! therof to telle the wonder.

Thenne thay bowed to a borde thise burnes togeder,

The kyng and the gode knyght, and kene men hem served

5 0 Sir Gawain and the Green K n ight

to reap what you've sown. You'll rightfully receive

the justice you are due just as January dawns.

Men know my name as the Green Chapel knight

and even a fool couldn't fail to find me.

So come, or be called a coward forever. "

With a tug of the reins he twisted around

and, head still in hand, galloped out of the hall,

so the hooves brought fire from the flame in the flint.

46o Which kingdom he came from they hadn't a clue,

no more than they knew where he made for next.

And then?

Well, with the green man gone

they laughed and grinned again.

And yet such goings-on

were magic to those men.

And although King Arthur was awestruck at heart

no sign of it showed. Instead he spoke

to his queen of queens with courteous words:

47o "Dear lady, don't be daunted by this deed today,

it's in keeping that such strangeness should occur at Christmas

between sessions of banter and seasonal song,

amid the lively pastimes of ladies and lords.

And at least I'm allowed to eat at last,

having witnessed such wonder, wouldn't you say?"

Then he glanced .at Gawain and was graceful with his words:

"Now hang up your axe--one hack is enough."

So it dangled from the drape behind the dais

so that men who saw it would be mesmerised and amazed,

4Bo and give voice, on its evidence, to that stunning event.

Then the two of them turned and walked to the table,

the monarch and his man, and were met with food-

Sii!IOII A rmitage 5 r

49D

5 2

Of aile daynryes double, as derrest myght falle,

Wyth alle maner of mete and mynstralcie bathe.

Wyth wele walt thay that day, til worthed an ende

in londe.

Now thenk wei, Sir Gawan,

For wothe that thou ne wonde

This avenrure for to frayn,

That thou has tan on honde.

Sir Gawain a n d the Green Kr1 ight

490

double dishes apiece, rare delicacies,

all manner of meals-and the music of minstrels.

And they danced and sang till the sun went down

that day.

But mind your mood, Gawain,

keep blacker thoughts at bay,

or loose this lethal game

you've promised you will play.

Simon A rm i tage 5 3

I I

This hanselle has Arthur of aventurus on fyrst

In yonge yer, for he yerned yelpyng to here.

Thagh hym wordes were wane when thay to sere wenten,

Now ar thay stoken of sturne werk, stafful her hood.

Gawan was glad to begynne those gomnes in halle,

Bot thagh the ende be hevy, haf ye no wonder;

For thagh men ben mery in mynde quen thay han mayo drynk,

A yere yernes ful yerne, and yeldes never lyke;

The forme to the fynisment foldes ful selden.

soo Forthi this Yol overyede, and the yere after,

And uche sesoun serlepes sued after other;

After Crystenmasse com the crabbed Lentoun,

5 1 0

That fraystes flesch wyth the fysche and fode more symple.

Bot thenne the weder of the worlde wyth wynter hit threpes,

Colde clenges adoun, cloudes uplyften,

Schyre schedes the rayn in schowres ful warme,

Falles upon fayre flat, flowres there schewen.

Bothe groundes and the greves grene ar her wedes,

Bryddes busken to bylde, and bremlych syngen

For solace of the softe somer that sues therafter

bi bc:mk;

And blossumes bolne to blowe

Bi rawes rych and rook,

5 4 Sir Gawain and the G reen Knight

fiCC I I

This happening was a gift-just as Arthur had asked for

and had yearned to hear of while the year was young.

And if guests had no subject as they strolled to their seats,

now they chattered of Gawain's chances in this challenge.

And Gawain had been glad to begin the game,

but don't be so shocked should the plot turn pear-shaped:

for men might be merry when addled with mead

but each year, short lived, is unlike the last

and rarely resolves in the style it arrived.

5oo So the festival finishes and a new year follows

in eternal sequence, season by season.

After lavish Christmas come the lean days of Lent

when the flesh is tested with fish and simple food.

Then the world's weather wages war on winter:

cold shrinks earthwards and the clouds climb;

sun-warmed, shimmering rain comes showering

onto meadows and fields where flowers unfurl;

woods and grounds wear a wardrobe of green;

birds burble with life and build busily

5 r o as summer spreads, settling on slopes as

it should.

Now every hedgerow brims

with blossom and with bud,

Simon A rmitage 5 5

Then notes noble innoghe

Ar herde in wod so wlonk.

After, the sesoun of somer wyth the soft wyndes,

Quen Zeferus syfles hymself on sedes and erbes;

Wela wynne is the wort that waxes theroute,

When the donkande dewe dropes of the !eves,

520 To bide a blysful blusch of the bryght sunne.

Bot then hyyes hervest, and hardenes hym sone,

Warnes hym for the wymer to wax ful rype;

He dryves wyth droght the dust for to ryse,

Fro the face of the folde to flyye ful hyghe;

Wrothe wynde of the welkyn wrasteles with the sunne,

The !eves laucen fro the Iynde and lyghten on the grounde,

And al grayes the gres that grene was ere;

Thenne al rypes and rotes that ros upon fyrst.

And thus yirnes the yere in yisterdayes mony,

530 And wynter wyndes ayayn, as the worlde askes,

no fage,

Til Meghelmas mone

Was cumen wyth wynter wage.

Then thenkkes Gawan ful sone

Of his anious vyage.

Yet quyl Al-hal-day with Arther he lenges,

And he made a fare on that fest, for the frekes sake,

With much revel and ryche of the Rounde Table.

Knyghtes ful cortays and comlych ladies,

540 AI for luf of that lede in longynge thay were;

Bot never-the-Ieee ne the later thay nevened bot merthe,

Mony joyles for that jemyle japes ther maden.

For aftter mete with mournyng he meles to his erne,

5 6 Sir Gawain a n d the G reen Knight

and lively songbirds sing

from lovely, leafy woods.

So summer comes in season with its subtle airs,

when the west wind sighs among shoots and seeds,

and those plants which flower and flourish are a pleasure

as their leaves let drip their drink of dew

520 and they sparkle and glitter when glanced by sunlight.

Then autumn arrives to harden the harvest

and with it comes a warning to ripen before winter.

The drying airs arrive, driving up dust

from the face of the earth to the heights of heaven,

and wild sky wrestles the sun with its winds,

and the leaves of the lime lay littered on the ground,

and grass that was green turns withered and gray.

Then all which had risen over-ripens and rots

and yesterday on yesterday the year dies away,

530 and winter returns, as is the way of the world

through time.

At Michaelmas the moon

stands like that season's sign,

a warning to Gawain

to rouse himself and ride.

Yet by All Saints' Day he was still at Arthur's side,

and they feasted in the name of their noble knight

with the revels and riches of the Round Table.

The lords of that hall and their loving ladies

540 were sad and concerned for the sake of their knight,

but nevertheless they made light of his load.

Those joyless at his plight made jokes and rejoiced.

Then sorrowfully, after supper, he spoke with his uncle,

S imon A rm itage 5 7

And spekes of his passage, and pertly he sayde:

"Now, lege Jorde of my lyf, !eve I yow ask.

Ye knowe the cost of this cace, kepe I no more

To telle yow tenes therof, never bot trifel;

Bot I am boun to the bur barely to-morne,

To sech the gome of the grene, as God wyl me wysse. "

550 Thenne the best of the burgh bowed togeder,

Aywan and Errik and other ful mony,

Sir Doddinaval de Savage, the duk of Clarence,

Launcelot and Lyonel and L�can the gode,

Sir Boos and Sir Bydver, big men bothe,

And mony other menskful, with Mador de Ia Port.

Aile this compayny of court com the kyng nerre,

For to counseyl the knyght, with care at her herr.

There was much derne doe! driven in the sale,

That so worthe as Wawan schulde wende on that ernde,

56o To dryye a delful dynt, and dele no more

wyth bronde.

The knyght mad ay god chere,

And sayde: "Quat schuld I wonde?

Of destines derf and dere

What may mon do bot fonde?"

He dowelles ther a! that day, and dresses on the morn,

Askes erly hys armes, and aile were thay broght.

Fyrst a rule tapir, ryght over the flet,

And miche was the gyld gere that glent ther alofte.

570 The stif mon steppes theron, and the stel hondeles,

Dubbed in a dublet of a dere tars,

And sythen a crafty capados,. closed aloft,

That wyth a bryght blaunner was bounden withinne.

Thenne set thay the sabatouns upon the segge fotes,

5 8 Sir Gawain and the G reen Knight

550

and openly talked of the trip he must take:

"Now, lord of my life, I must ask for your leave.

You were witness to my wager. I have no wish

to retell you the terms-they're nothing but a trifle.

I must set out tomorrow to receive that stroke

from rhe knight in green, and let God be my guide."

Then the cream of Camelot crowded around:

Ywain and Eric arid others of that ilk,

Sir Dodinal the Dreaded, the Duke of Clarence,

Lancelot, Lionel, Lucan the Good,

and Sir Bors and Sir Bedevere-both big names,

and powerful men such as Madar de la Port.

This courtly committee approaches the king

to offer up heartfelt advice to our hero.

And sounds of sadness and sorrow were heard

that one as worthy and well liked as Gawain

56o should suffer that strike but offer no stroke in

reply.

Yet keeping calm the knight

just quipped, "Why should I shy

away. If fate is kind

or cruel, man still must try. "

He remained all that day and in the morning he dressed,

asked early for his arms and all were produced.

First a rug of rare cloth was unrolled on the floor,

heaped with gear which glimmered and gleamed,

570 and onto it he stepped to receive his armored suit.

He tries on his tunic of extravagant silk,

then the neatly cut cloak, closed at the neck,

its lining finished with a layer of white fur.

Then they settled his feet into steel shoes

Simon A rm itage 5 9

His leges lapped in stel with luflych greves,

With polaynes piched therto, policed ful clene,

Aboute his knes knaged wyth knotes of golde;

Queme quyssewes then, that coyntlych closed

His thik thrawen thyghes, with thwonges to tachched;

58o And sythen the brawden bryne of bryght stel rynges

Vmbeweved that wyy, upon wlonk stuffe;

And wei bornyst brace upon his bathe armes,

With gode cowters and gay, and gloves of plate,

And aile the godlych gere that hym gayn schulde

that tyde;

Wyth ryche cote-armure,

His gold spores spend with pryde,

Gurde wyth a bronc ful sure

With silk sayn umbe his syde.

590 When he was hasped in armes, his harnays was ryche;

The lest lachet other loupe lemed of golde.

So harnayst as he was he herknes his masse,

Offred and honoured at the heghe auter.

Sythen he comes to the kyng and to his cort-feres,

Laches lufly his leve at lordes and ladyes;

And thay hym kyst and conveyed, bikende hym co Kryst.

Bi that was Gryngolet grayth, and gurde with a sadel

That glemed ful gayly with many golde frenges,

Ayquere naylet ful nwe, for that note ryched;

6oo The brydel barred aboute, with bryght golde bounden;

The apparayl of the payttrure and of the proude skyrtes,

The cropore and the covertor, acorded wyth the arsounes;

And al was ra7led on red ryche golde nayles,

That al glytered and glent as glem of the sunne.

Thenne hentes he the helme, and hastily hit kysses,

6 o S i r Gawai,1 a n d the G 1·een Knight

and clad his calves, clamped them with greaves,

then hinged and highly polished plates

were knotted with gold thread to the knight's knees.

Then leg guards were fitted, lagging the flesh,

attached with thongs to his thick-set thighs.

5Bo Then comes the suit of shimmering steel rings

encasing his body and his costly clothes:

well burnished braces to both of his arms,

good elbow guards and glinting. metal gloves,

all the trimmings and trappings of a knight tricked out

to ride:

a metal suit that shone;

gold spurs which gleam with pride;

a keen sword swinging from

the silk belt to his side.

590 Fastened in his armor he seemed fabulous, famous,

e�ery link looking golden to the very last loop.

Yet for all that metal he still made it to mass,

honored the Almighty before the high altar.

After which he comes to the king and his consorts

and asks to take leave of the ladies and lords;

they escort and kiss him and commended him to Christ.

Now Gringolet is rigged out and ready to ride

with a saddle which flickered with fine gold fringes

and was set with new studs for the special occasion.

6oo The bridle was bound with stripes of bright gold,

the apparel of the panels was matched in appearance

to the color of the saddlebows and cropper and cover,

and nails of red gold were arrayed all around,

shining splendidly like splintered sunlight.

Then he holds up his helmet and kisses it without haste;

Simon A rmitage 6 r

That was stapled srifly, and scoffed wyrhinne.

Hit was hyghe on his hede, hasped bihynde,

Wyth a lyghtly urysoun over the avenrayle,

Enbrawden and bounden wyrh the best gemmes

6 r o On brode sylkyn borde, and bryddes on semes,

As papjayes paynted pernyng bitwene,

Tortors and trulofes enrayled so thyk

As mony burde theraboure had ben seven winter

in toune.

The cercle was more o prys

That umbeclypped hys croun,

Of diamaunres a devys

That bathe were bryght and braun.

Then rhay schewed hym the schelde, char was of schyr goules,

62o Wyrh the pentangel depaynr of pure golde hwes.

He braydes hit by the bauderyk, aboute the hals kestes,

That bisemed the segge semlyly fayre.

And quy rhe pentangel apendes to that prynce noble

I am intent yow to relle, rhof cary hyr me schulde.

Hie is a syngne that Salamon sec sumquyle

In byroknyng of rrawrhe, bi cycle that hit habbes,

For hie is a figure that haldes fyve poyntes,

And uche lyne umbelappes and loukes in other,

And ayquere hit is endeles, and Englych hit callen

63o Overal, as I here, the endeles knot.

Forrhy hit acordes to this knyght and to his cler armes,

For ay faythful in fyve and sere fyve syrhes,

Gawan was for gode knawen and, as golde pured,

Voyded of uche vylany, wych vertues ennourned

in more.

Forthy the pentangel nwe

6 2 Sir Gawai11 a n d the Green Kn ight

it was strongly stapled and its lining was stuffed,

and sat high on his head, fastened behind

with a colorful cloth to cover his neck

embroidered and bejeweled with brilliant gems

6 1 0 on the broad �ilk border, and with birds on the seams such as painted parrots perched among periwinkles

and turtle doves and true lover's knots, tightly entwined

as if women had worked at it seven winters

at least.

The diamond diadem

was greater still. It gleamed

with flawless, flashing gems

both clear and smoked, it seemed.

Then they showed him the shining scarlet shield

62o with its pentangle painted in pure gold.

He seized it by its strap and slung it round his neck;

he looked well in what he wore, and was worthy of it.

And why the pentangle was appropriate to that prince

I intend to say, though it will stall our story.

It is a symbol that Solomon once set in place

and is taken to this day as a token of fidelity,

for the form of the figure is a five-pointed star

and each line overlaps and links with the last

so is ever eternal, and when spoken of in England

63o is known by the name of the endless knot.

So it suits this soldier in his spotless armor,

fully faithful in five ways five times over.

For Gawain was as good as the purest gold

devoid of vices but virtuous, loyal

and kind,

so bore that badge on both

Simon A rmitage 6 3

He ber in schelde and cote,

As rulk of tale most trwe

And gentylest knyght of lore.

64o Fyrst he was funden fautles in his fyve wytres,

And efte fayled never the freke in his fyve fyngres,

And alle his afyaunce upon folde was in the fyve woundes

That Cryst kaght on the croys, as the crede relies.

And quere-so-ever thys mon in melly was stad,

His thro thoght was in that, thurgh alle other thynges,

That alle his forsnes he fang at the fyve joyes

That the hende heven quene had of hir chylde;

At this cause the knyght comlyche hade

In the inore half of his schelde hir ymage depaynred,

65o That quen he blusched therro his belde never payred.

The fyft fyve that I finde that the frek used

Was fraunchyse and felawschyp forbe al thyng;

His clannes and his cortaysye croked were never,

And pite, that passes alle poynres-thyse pure fyve

Were harder happed on that hathel then on any other.

Now alle these fyve sythes, for sothe, were fetled on this knyght,

And uchone halched in other, that non ende hade,

And fyched upon fyve poyntes that fayld never,

Ne samned never in no syde, ne sundred nourher,

66o Withouten ende at any noke noquere, I fynde,

Where-ever the gomen bygan or glad to an ende.

Therfore on his schene schelde schapen was the knot

Ryally wyth red golde upon rede gowles,

That is the pure pentaungel wyth the peple called

with lore.

Now graythed is Gawan gay,

And laght his launce ryght thore,

6 4 Sir G a wain and the G reen Knight

his shawl and shield alike.

A prince who talked the truth.

A notable. A knight.

64o First he was deemed flawless in his five senses;

and secondly his five fingers were never at fault;

and thirdly his faith was founded in the five wounds

Christ received on the cross, as the creed recalls.

And fourthly, if that soldier struggled in skirmish

one thought pulled him through above all other things:

the fortitude he found in the five joys

which Mary had conceived in her son, our Savior.

For precisely that reason the princely rider

had the shape of her image inside his shield,

65o so by catching her eye his courage would not crack.

The fifth set of five which I heard the knight followed

included friendship and fraternity with fellow men,

purity and politeness that impressed at all times,

and pity, which surpassed all pointedness. Five things

which meant more to Gawain than to most other men.

So these five sets of five were fixed in this knight,

each linked to the last through the endless line,

a five-pointed form which never failed,

never stronger to one side or slack at the other,

66o but unbroken in its being from beginning to end

however its trail is tracked and traced.

So the star on the spangling shield he sported

shone royally, in gold, on a ruby red background,

the pure pentangle as people have called it

for years.

Then, lance in hand, held high,

and got up in his gear

S i m o n A rmitage 6 5

And gef hem alle gaud day

He wende for ever more.

67o He sperred the sred with the spures, and sprang on his way

So srif that the ston-fyr stroke our therafter.

Al that sey that semly syked in herr,

And sayde sothly al same segges til other,

Carande for that comly: "Bi Kryst, hit is scathe

That thou, leude, schal be lost, that art of lyf noble!

To fynde hys fere upon folde, in fayth, is not ethe.

Warloker to haf wroght had more wyr bene,

And haf dyght yonder dere a duk to have worthed.

A lowande leder of ledes in londe hym wel semes,

68o And so had better hafben then britned to noght,

Hader wyth an alvisch mon, for angardes pryde.

Who knew ever any kyng such counsel to take

As knyghtes in cavelaciouns on Crystmasse gomnes?"

Wel much was the warme water that waltered of yyen,

When that semly syre soght fro tho wanes

thad daye.

He made non abode,

Bot wyghtly went hys way;

Many wylsum way he rode,

69o The bok as I herde say.

Now rides this renk thurgh the ryalme of Logres,

Sir Gauan, on Godes halve, thagh hym no gomen thoght.

Oft leudles alone he lenges on nyghtes,

Ther he fonde noght hym byfore the fare that he lyked.

Hade he no fere bot his fole bi frythes and dounes,

Ne no game bot God bi gate wyth to karp,

Til that he neghed ful neghe into the Northe Wales.

6 6 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

he bids them all good-bye

one final time, he fears.

67o Spiked with the spurs the steed sped away

with such force that the fire-stones sparked underfoot.

All sighed at the sight, and with sinking hearts

they whispered their worries to one another,

concerned for their comrade. "A pity, by Christ,

if a lord so noble should lose his life.

To find his equal on earth would be far from easy.

Cleverer to have acted with caution and care,

deemed him a duke-a title he was due-

a leader of men, lord of many lands;

68o better that than being bartered inro oblivion,

beheaded by an ogre through headstrong pride.

How unknown for a king to take counsel of a knight

in the grip of an engrossing Christmas game."

Warm tears welled up in their weepy eyes

as gallant Sir Gawain galloped from court

that day.

He sped from home and hearth

and went his winding way

on steep and snaking paths,

just as the story says.

Now through England's realm he rides and rides,

Sir Gawain, God's servant, on his grim quest,

passing long dark nights unloved and alone,

foraging to feed, finding little to call food,

with no friend but his horse through forests and hills

and only our Lord in heaven to hear him.

He wanders near to the north of Wales

Simon A rm itage 6 7

Aile the iles of Anglesay on lyft half he haldes,

And fares over the fordes by the forlondes,

700 Over at the Holy Hede, til he hade eft bonk

7 1 0

In the wyldrenesse ofWyrale-wonde ther bot lyre

That auther God other gome wyth goud bert lovied.

And ay he frayned, as he ferde, at frekes that he met,

If thay hade herde any karp of a knyght grene,

In any grounde theraboute, of the grene chapel ;

And al nykked hym wyth nay, that never in her lyve

Thay seye never no segge that was of suche hews

of grene.

The knyght tok gates straunge

In mony a bonk unbene;

His cher ful oft con chaunge,

That chapel er he myght sene.

Mony klyf he overclambe in contra yes straunge,

Fer floten fro his frendes fremedly he rydes.

At uche warthe other water ther the wyye passed

He fonde a foo hym byfore, bot ferly hit were,

And that so foule and so felle that feght hym byhode.

So mony mervayl bi mount ther the mon fyndes,

Hit were to tore for to telle of the tenthe dole.

720 Sumwhyle wyth wormes he werres, and with wolves als,

Sumwhyle wyth wodwos that woned in the knarres,

Bothe wyth bulles and beres, and bores otherquyle,

And etaynes that hym anelede of the heghe felle.

Nade he ben dughty and dryye, and dryghtyn had served,

Douteles he hade ben ded and dreped ful ofte,

For werre wrathed hym not so much, that wynter was wors,

When the colde cler water fro the cloudes schadde,

And fres er hit falle myght to the fale erche.

6 8 Sir Gawain and the G reen Knight

with the Isles of Anglesey off to the left.

He keeps to the coast, fording each course,

7oo crossing at Holy Head and coming ashore

7 1 0

in the wilds of the Wirral, whose wayward people

both God and good men have quite given up on.

And he constantly enquires of those he encounters

if they know, or not, in this neck of the woods,

of a great green man or a Green Chapel.

No, they say, never. Never in their lives.

They know of neither a chap nor a chapel

so strange.

He trails through bleak terrain.

His mood and manner change

at every twist and turn

towards that chosen church.

In a strange region he scales steep slopes;

far from his friends he cuts a lonely figure.

Where he bridges a brook or wades through a waterway

ill fortune brings him face-to-face with a foe

so foul or fierce he is bound to use force.

So momentous are his travels among the mountains

to tell just a tenth would be a tall order.

720 Here he scraps with serpents and snarling wolves,

here he tangles with wodwos causing trouble in the crags,

or with bulls and bears and the odd wild boar.

Hard on his heels through the highlands come giants.

Only diligence and faith in the face of death

will keep him from becoming a corpse or carrion.

And the wars were one thing, but winter was worse:

clouds shed their cargo of crystallized rain

which froze as it fell to the frost-glazed earth.

Simon A rntitage 6 9

Ner slayn wyth the slete he sleped in his yrnes

730 Mo nyghtes then innoghe in naked rokkes,

Ther as claterande fro the crest the colde borne rennes,

And henged heghe over his hede in hard ysse-ikkles.

Thus in peryl and payne and plytes ful harde

Bi contray caryes this knyght tyl Krystmasse even,

al one.

The knyght wei that tyde

To Mary made his mone,

That ho hym red to ryde,

And wysse hym to sum wone.

74o Bi a mounre on the morne meryly he rydes

lnro a forest ful dep, that ferly was wylde,

Highe hilles on uche a halve, and holtwodes under

Of bore okes ful hoge a hundreth togeder.

The basel and the hawthorne were haded al samen,

With roghe raged mosse rayled aywhere,

With mony bryddes unblythe upon bare twyges,

That pitosly ther piped for pyne of the colde.

The gome upon Gryngolet glydes hem under

Thurgh mony misy and myre, mon al hym one,

7 50 Carande for his costes, lest he ne kever schulde

To se the servyse of that syre, that on that self nyght

Of a burde was borne, oure baret co queUe.

And therfore sykyng he sayde: "I beseche the, lorde,

And Mary, that is myldest moder so dere,

Of sum berber ther heghly I myght here masse

Ande thy matynes to-morne, mekely I ask,

And therto prestly I pray my pater and ave

and crede. "

He rode in his prayere,

7 o Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

With nerves frozen numb he napped in his armor,

730 bivouacked in the blackness amongst bare rocks

where meltwater streamed from the snow-capped summits

and high overhead hung chandeliers of ice.

So in peril and pain Sir Gawain made progress,

crisscrossing the countryside until Christmas

Eve. Then

at that time of tiding,

he prayed to highest heaven.

Let Mother Mary guide him

towards some house or haven.

74o Next morning he moves on, skirts the mountainside,

descends a deep forest, densely overgrown,

750

with ancient oaks in huddles of hundreds

and vaulting hills above each half of the valley.

Hazel and hawthorn are interwoven,

decked and draped in damp, shaggy moss,

and bedraggled birds on bare, black branches

pipe pitifully into the piercing cold.

Under cover of the canopy he girded Gringolet

through mud and marshland, a most mournful man,

concerned and afraid in case he should fail

in the worship of our Deity, who, on that date

was born the Virgin's son to save our souls.

He prayed with heavy heart. "Father, hear me,

and Lady Mary, our mother most mild,

let me happen on some house where mass might be heard,

and matins in the morning; meekly I ask,

and here I utter my pater, ave

and creed."

He rides the path and prays,

Simon A rmitage 7 1

And cryed for his mysdede;

He sayned hym in syches sere

And sayde: "Cros Krysc me spede! "

Nade he sayned hymself, segge, bot chrye,

Er he was war in the wod of a won in a mote,

Abof a launde, on a lawe, loken under boghes

Of mony borelych bole abouce bi the cliches:

A cascel the comlokesc chat ever knyghc aghce,

Pyched on a prayere, a park al abouce,

With a pyked palays, pyned ful chik,

no That umbeceye mony ere mo chen cwo myle.

That holde on chat on syde the hachel avysed,

As hie schemered and schon churgh the schyre okes.

Thenne has he hendly of his helme, and heghly he chonkes

Jesus and sayn Gilyan, chat gentyle ar bache,

That cortaysly hade hym kydde and his cry herkened.

"Now bone hostel," cothe the burne, "I beseche yow yecce! "

Thenne gerdes he co Gryngolet with the gilt heles,

And he ful chauncely has chosen co che chef gate,

That broghc bremly the burne co the bryge ende

in haste.

The bryge was breme upbrayde,

The yates wer scoken fasce,

The walles were wel arayed

Hic due no wyndes blaste.

The burne bode on bonk, chat on blank hoved,

Of the depe double dich chat drof to the place.

The walle wod in the water wonderly depe,

Ande eft a ful huge heghc hit haled upon lofce,

Of harde hewen scon up co the cables,

7 2 Sir Gawain and the G t·een Knight

76o dismayed by his misdeeds,

and signs Christ's cross and says,

"Be near me in my need."

No sooner had he signed himself three times

than he became aware, in those woods, of high walls

in a moat, on a mound, bordered by the boughs

of thick-trunked timber which trimmed the water.

The most commanding castle a knight ever kept,

positioned in a site of sweeping parkland

with a palisade of pikes pitched in the earth

no in the midst of tall trees for two miles or more.

From the corner of his eye this castle became clearer

as it sparkled and shone within shimmering oaks,

and with helmet in hand he offered up thanks

to Jesus and Saint Julian, both gentle and good,

who had courteously heard him and heeded his cry.

"A lodging at last. So allow it, my Lord."

Then he girded Gringolet with his gilded spurs,

and purely by chance chose the principal approach

to the building, which brought him to the end of the bridge

with haste.

The drawbridge stood withdrawn,

the front gates were shut fast .

Such well-constructed walls

would blunt the storm wind's blast.

In the saddle of his steed he halts on the slope

of the delving moat with its double ditch.

Out of water of wondrous depth, the walls

then loomed overhead to a heavenly height,

course after course of crafted stone,

Simon A rmitage 7 3

790 Enbaned under the abataylment in the best lawe;

And sythen garytes ful gaye gered bitwene,

Wyth mony luflych loupe that louked ful clene:

A better barbican that burne blusched upon never.

And innermore he behelde that halle ful hyghe,

Towres telded bytwene, trochet ful thik,

Fayre fylyoles that fyyed, and ferlyly long,

With corvon coprounes craftyly sleye.

Chalkwhyt chymnees ther ches he innoghe,

Upon bastel roves that blenked ful quyte.

Boo So mony pynakle paynret was poudred ayquere

Among the castel carneles, clambred so thik,

That pared out of papure purely hit semed.

8ro

The fre freke on the fole hit fayre innoghe thoght,

If he myght kever to com the cloyster wythinne,

To herber in that hostel whyl halyday lested,

avinant.

He calde, and sone ther com

A porter pure plesaunr.

On the wal his ernd he nome,

And haylsed the knyght erraunt.

"Gode sir," quoth Gawan, "woldes thou go myn ernde

To the hegh lorde of this hous, herber to crave?"

"Ye, Peter," quoth the porter, "and purely I trowee

That ye be, wyye, welcum to won quyle yow lykes. "

Then yede the wyye ayayn swythe,

And folke frely hym wyth, to fonge the knyght.

Thay let doun the grete draght and derely out yeden,

And kneled doun on her knes upon the colde erthe

To welcum this ilk wyy, as worthy hom rhoght.

82o Thay yolden hym the brode yate, yarked up wyde,

7 4 Sir Gawain and the G reen Knight

790 then battlements embellished in the boldest style

and turrets arranged around the ramparts

with lockable loopholes set into the lookouts.

The knight had not seen a more stunning structure.

Further in, his eye was drawn to a hall

attended, architecturally, by many tall towers

with a series of spires spiking the air

all crowned by carvings exquisitely cut.

Uncountable chimneys the color of chalk

sprutted from the roof and sparkled in the sun.

Boo So perfect was that vision of painted pinnacles

clustered within the castle's enclosure

Bra

it appeared that the place was cur from paper.

Then a notion occurred to that noble knight:

to inveigle a visit, get invited inside,

to be hosted and housed, and all the holy days

remam.

Responding to his call

a pleasant porter came,

a watchman on the wall,

who welcomed Sir Gawain.

"Good morning," said our man, "will you bear a message

to the owner of this hall and ask him for shelter?"

"By Saint Peter," said the porter, "it'll be my pleasure,

and I'm willing to bet you'll be welcome to a bed."

Then he went on his way, but came back at once

with a group who had gathered to greet the stranger;

the drawbridge came down and they crossed the ditch

and knelt in the frost in front of the knight to welcome this man in a way deemed worthy.

B2o Then they yielded to their guest, yanked open the gate,

Simon A rm itage 7 5

And he hem raysed rekenly and rod over the brygge.

Sere segges hym sesed by sadel, quel he lyght,

And sythen stabeled his stede stif men innoghe.

Knyghtes and swyeres comen doun thenne

For to bryng this buurne wyth blys into halle.

Quen he hef up his helme, ther hiyed innoghe

For to hent hit at his honde, the hende to secven;

His bronde and his blasoun bothe thay token.

Then haylsed he ful hendly tho hatheles uchone,

83o And mony proud mon ther presed, that prynce to honour.

Alle hasped in his hegh wede to halle thay hym wonnen,

Ther fayre fyre -q.pon flet fersly brenned.

Thenne the lorde of the lede loutes fro his chambre

For to mete wyth menske the mon on the flor.

He sayde: "Ye ar welcum to wone as yow lykes.

That here is, al is yowre a wen, to have at yowre wylie

and welde."

"Graunt mercy," quoth Gawayn,

"Ther Kryst hit yow foryelde."

As frekes that semed fayn

Ayther other in armes con felde.

Gawayn glyght on the gome that godly hym gret,

And thught hit a bolde burne that the burgh aghte,

A hoge hathel for the nones, and of hyghe .eldee;

Brode, bryght was his berde, and al bever-hwed,

Sturne, stif on the stryththe on stalworth schonkes,

Felle face as the fyre, and fre of hys speche;

And wel hym semed for sothe, as the segge thught,

To lede a lortschyp in lee of leudes ful gode.

85o The lorde hym charred to a chambre, and chefly cumaundes

To delyver hym a leude, hym lowly to serve;

7 6 Sir Gawain and the G reen Knight

and bidding them to rise he rode across the bridge.

He was assisted from the saddle by several men

and the strongest amongst them stabled his steed.

Then knights, and the squires of knights, drew near,

to escort him, with courtesy, into the castle.

As he took off his helmet, many hasty hands

reached out to receive it and to serve this stranger,

and his sword and his shield were taken aside.

Then he made himself known to nobles and knights

83o and proud fellows pressed forwards to confer their respects.

Still heavy with armor he was led to the hall

where a fire burned bright with the fiercest flames.

Then the master of the manor emerged from his chamber,

to greet him in the hall with all due honor,

saying, "Behave in my house as your heart pleases.

To whatever you want you are welcome, do what

you will . "

"My thanks," Gawain exclaimed,

"May Christ reward you well."

Then firmly, like good friends,

they hugged and held awhile.

Gawain gazed at the lord who greeted him so gracefully,

the great one who governed that grand estate,

powerful and large, in the prime of his life,

with a bushy beard a.S red as a beaver's,

steady in his stance, solid of build,

with a fiery face but with fine conversation:

a man quite capable, it occurred to Gawain,

of keeping such a castle and captaining his knights.

s5o Escorted to his quarters the lord quickly orders

that a servant be assigned to assist Gawain,

Simon A rmitage 7 7

And there were boun at his bode burnes innoghe

That broght hym to a bryght boure, ther beddying was noble

Of cortynes of clene sylk wyth cler golde hemmes,

And covertores ful curious with comlych panes,

Of bryght blaunmer above enbrawded bisydes,

Rudeles reimande on ropes, red golde rynges,

Tapytes tyght to the wowe, ofTuly and Tars,

And under fete, on the flet, of folwande sure.

86o Ther he was dispoyled, wyth speches of myerthe,

The burn of his bruny and of his bryght wedes.

Ryche robes ful rad renkkes hym broghten,

For to charge and to chaunge and chose of the best.

Sone as he on hem, and happed therinne,

That sere on hym semly, wyth saylande skyrtes,

The ver by his visage verayly hit semed

Welnegh to uche hathel, aile on hwes,

Lowande and lufly, aile his lymmes under,

That a comloker knyght never Kryst made,

87o hem thoght.

Whethen in worlde he were,

Hit semed as he moght

Be prynce wirhouten pere

In felde ther feile men foght.

A cheyer byfore the chemne, ther charcole brenned,

Was graythed for Sir Gawan graythely with clothes,

Whyssynes upon queldepoyntes that koynt wer borhe.

And thenne a mere mantyle was on that mon cast

Of a broun bleeaunt, enbrauded ful ryche,

sao And fayre furred wythinne with felles of the best

Aile of ermyn in erde-his bode of the same.

And he sere in that setrel semlych ryche,

7 8 Sir Gawain a n d the G reen Knight

and many were willing to wait on his word.

They brought him to a bedroom, beautifully furnished

with fine silken fabrics finished in gold

and curious coverlets lavishly quilted

in bloodless ermine and embroidered to each border.

Curtains ran on cords through red-gold rings,

tapestries from Toulouse and Turkistan

were fixed against walls and fitted underfoot.

B6o With humorous banter Gawain was helped out

of his chain-mail coat and costly clothes,

then they rushed to bring him an array of robes

of the choicest cloth. He chose, and changed,

and as soon as he stood in that stunning gown

with irs flowing skirrs which suited his shape

it almost appeared to the persons present

chat spring, with its spectrum of colors, had sprung;

so alive and lean were that young man's limbs

a nobler creature Christ had never created, they declared.

87o This knight,

whose country was unclear,

now seemed to them by sight

a prince without a peer

in fields where fierce men fight.

In front of a flaming fireside a chair

was pulled into place for Gawain, and padded

with covers and quilts all cleve�ly stitched,

chen a cape was cast across the knight

of rich brown cloth with embroidered borders,

88o finished inside with the finest furs,

ermine, to be exact, and a hood which echoed it.

Resplendently dressed he settled in his sear;

S i1n o n A rm i tage 7 9

And achaufed hym chefly, and thenne his cher mended.

Sane was telded up a tabil on trestes ful fayre,

Clad wyth a clene clothe that cler quyt schewed,

Sanap and salure and sylverin spones.

The wyye wesche at his wylie, and went to his mete.

Segges hym served semly innoghe

Wyth sere sewes and sete, sesounde of the best,

B9o Double-felde, as hit falles, and fele kyn fisches,

Summe baken in bred, summe brad on the gledes,

Summe sothen, summe in sewe savered with spyces,

And ay sawses so sleye that the segge lyked.

The freke calde hit a fest ful frely and ofte

Ful hendely, quen alle the hatheles rehayted hym at ones

as hende:

"This penaunce now ye take,

And eft hit schal amende."

That mon much merthe con make,

9oo · For wyn in his hed that wende.

Thenne was spyed and spured upon spare wyse

Bi preve poyntes of that prynce, put to hymselven,

That he beknew cortaysly of the court that he were,

That athel Arthure the hende haldes hym one,

That is the ryche ryal kyng of the Rounde Table;

And hit was Wawen hymself that in that won syttes,

Comen to that Krystmasse, as case hym then lymped.

When the lorde hade lerned that he the leude hade,

Laude laghed he therat, so lef hit hym thoght,

9 r o And alle the men in that mote maden much joye

To apere in his presense prestly that tyme,

That alle prys and prowes and pured thewes

Apendes to hys persoun, and praysed is ever;

S o I . Sir Gawain and the G reen Knight

as his limbs thawed, so his thoughts lightened.

Soon a table was set on sturdy trestles

covered entirely with a clean white cloth

and cruets of salt and silver spoons.

In a while he washed and went to his meal.

Scaff came quickly and served him in style

with several soups all seasoned to taste,

B9o double helpings as was fitting, and a feast of fish,

some baked in bread, some browned over flames,

some boiled or steamed, some stewed in spices

and subtle sauces to tantalize his tongue.

900

Four or five times he called it a feast,

and the courteous company happily cheered him

along:

"On penance places you dine

there's better board to come."

The warming, heady wine

then freed his mind for fun.

Now through tactful talk and tentative enquiry

polite questions are put to this prince;

he responds respectfully, and speaks of his journey

from the Court of Arthur, King of Camelot,

royalty, and ruler of the Round Table,

and he says they now sit with Gawain himself,

who has come here at Christmastime quite by chance.

Once the master has gathered that his guest is Gawain

he thinks it so thrilling he laughs out loud.

9 1 0 All the men of that manor were of the same mind,

being keen and quick to appear in his presence,

this person famed for prowess and purity,

whose noble skills were sung co the skies,

Simon A rmitage 8 1

Byfore aile men upon molde his mensk is the most.

Uch segge ful softly sayde to his fere:

"Now schal we semlych se sleghtes of thewes

And the teccheles termes of talkyng noble.

Wich spede is in speche, unspurd may we Ierne,

Syn we haf fanged that fyne fader of nurture.

920 God has geven uus his grace godly for sothe,

That such a gest as Gawan grauntes uus to have,

When burnes blythe of his burthe schal sitte

and synge.

In menyng of maneres mere

This burne now schal uus bryng.

I hope that may hym here

Schal lerne of luf-talkyng."

Bi that the diner was done and the dere up,

Hit was negh at the niyght neghed the tyme.

930 Chaplaynes to the chapeles chosen the gate,

Rungen ful rychely, ryght as thay schulden,

To the hersum evensong of the hyghe tyde.

The Jorde loutes therto, and the lady als;

Into a cumly closet coyntly ho entres.

Gawan glydes ful gay and gos theder sone;

The Jorde laches hym by the Iappe and ledes hym to sytte,

And courhly hym knowes and calles hym his nome,

And sayde he was the welcomest wyye of the worlde;

And he hym thonkked throly, and ayther halched other,

940 And seten soberly samen the servise-quyle.

Thenne lyst the lady to Joke on the knyght;

Thenne com ho of hir closet with mony cler burdes.

Ho was the fay rest in felle, of flesche and of lyre,

And of com pas and colour and castes, of aile other,

8 2 Sir Gawain and the G reen Knight

whose life was the stuff of legend and lore.

Then knight spoke softly to knight, saying

"Watch now, we'll wicness his graceful ways,

hear the faultless phrasing of flawless speech;

if we listen we will learn rhe merits of language

since we have in our hall a man of high honor.

920 Ours is a generous and giving God

co gram chat we welcome Gawain as our guest

as we sing of His birch who was born to save us.

We few

shall learn a lesson here

in tact and manners true,

and hopefully we'll hear

love's render language, coo."

Once dinner was done Gawain drew co his feet

and darkness neared as day became dusk.

930 Chaplains went off co che castle's chapels

co sound the bells hard , to signal che hour

of evensong, summoning each and every soul.

The lord goes alone, chen his lady arrives,

concealing herself in a private pew.

Gawain acrends, roo; rugged by his sleeve

he is steered co a seat, led by rhe lord

who greets Gawain by name as his guest.

No man in the world is more welcome, are his words.

For that he is thanked. And they hug there and chen

940 and sic as a pair through che service in prayer.

Then she who desired co see chis stranger

came from her closer wirh her sisterly crew.

She was fairest amongst chem-her face, her flesh,

her complexion, her quality, her bearing, her body,

S i m o 11 A rmitage 8 3

And wener then Wenore, as the wyye thoght,

He ches thurgh the chaunsel, to cheryche that hende.

An other lady hir lad bi the lyft honde,

That was alder then ho, an auncian hit semed,

And heghly honowred with hatheles aboute.

950 Bot unlyke on to loke tho ladyes were,

For if the yonge was yep, yolwe was that other:

Riche red on that on rayled ayquere,

Rugh ronkled chekes that other on rolled.

Kerchofes of that on, wyth mony cler pedes,

Hir brest and hir bryght throte bare displayed

Schon schyrer then snawe that schedes on hilles;

That other wyth a gorger was gered over the swyre,

Chymbled over hir blake chyn with chalk-quyte vayles,

Hir frount folden in sylk, enfoubled ayquere,

96o Toret and treleted with tryfles abouce,

That noght was bare of that burde bot the blake browes,

The tweyne yyen and the nase, the naked lyppes,

And those were soure to se and sellyly blered-

A mensk lady on molde mon may hir calle,

for Gode!

Hir body was schort and thik,

Hir buttokes bay and brode;

More lykkerwys on to lyk

Was that scho hade on lode.

970 When Gawayn glyght on that gay that graciously loked,

Wyth !eve laght of the lorde he went hem ayaynes.

The alder he haylses, heldande ful lowe;

The loveloker he lappes a lyttel in armes,

He kysses hir comlyly and knyghtly he meles.

Thay kallen hym of aquoyntaunce, and he hit quyk askes

8 4 Sir Gawain a n d the Green Knight

more glorious than Guinevere, or so Gawain thought,

and in the chancel of the church they exchanged courtesies.

She was hand in hand with a lady to her left,

someone altered by age, an ancient dame,

well respected, it seemed, by the servants at her side.

950 Those ladies were not the least bit alike:

one woman was young, one withered by years.

The body of the beauty seemed to bloom with blood,

the cheeks of the crone were wattled and slack.

One was clothed in a kerchief clustered with pearls

which shone like snow-snow on the slopes

of her upper breast and bright bare throat.

The other was noosed and knotted at .the neck,

her chin enveloped in chalk-white veils,

her forehead fully enfolded in silk

96o with detailed designs at the edges and hems;

nothing bare, except for the black of her brows

and the eyes and nose and naked lips

which were chapped and bleared and a sorrowful sight.

A grand old mother, a matriarch she might

be hailed.

Her trunk was square and squat,

her buttocks bulged and swelled.

Most men would sooner squint

at her whose hand she held.

970 Then Gawain glanced at the gracious-looking woman,

and by leave of the lord he approached those ladies

saluting the elder with a long, low bow,

holding the other for a moment in his arms,

kissing her respectfully and speaking with courtesy.

They request his acquaintance, and quickly he offers

Simon A r111itage 8 5

To be her servaunt sothly, if hemself lyked.

Thay tan hym bycwene hem, wyth talkyng hym !eden

To chambre, to chemne, and chefly thay asken

Spyces, that unsparely men speded hom to bryng,

98o And the wynnelych wyne therwith uche cyme.

990

The Jorde luflych aloft lepes ful ofte,

Mynned merthe to be made upon mony sythes,

Hent heghly of his bode, and on a spere henged,

And wayned hom to wynne the worchip therof

That most myrthe myght meve that Crystenmas whyle.

"And I schal fonde, bi my fayth, to fylter wyth the best

Er me wont the wede, with help of my frendes. "

Thus wyth laghande lotes the Jorde hit tayt makes,

For to glade Sir Gawayn with gomnes in halle

that nyght,

Til that hit was cyme

The Jorde comaundet lyght.

Sir Gawen his !eve con nyme

And to his bed hym dight.

On the morne, as uch mon mynes that cyme

That dryghtyn for oure desryne to deye was borne,

Wele waxes in uche a won in worlde· for his sake.

So did hit there on that day thurgh dayntes mony:

Bothe at mes and at mele messes ful quaynt

r ooo Derf men upon dece drest of the best.

The olde auncian wyf heghest ho syttes;

The Jorde lufly her by lent, as I trowe.

Gawan and the gay burde togeder thay seten

Even inmyddes, as the messe merely come;

And sythen thurgh al the sale, as hem best semed,

Bi uche grome at his degre graythely was served.

8 6 Sir Gawain a n d the G reen Knight

to serve them unswervingly should they say the word.

They take him between them and talk as they walk

to a hearth full of heat, and hurriedly ask

for specially spiced cakes, which are speedily fetched,

98o and wine filled each goblet again and again.

990

Frequently the lord would leap to his feet

insisting that mirth and merriment be made:

hauling off his hood he hoisted it on a spear

a prize, he promised, to the person providing

most comfort and cheer at Christmastime.

"And my fellows and friends shall help in my fight

to see that it hangs from no head but my own."

So the laughter of that lord lights up the room,

and Gawain and the gathering are gladdened by games

till late.

So late, his lordship said,

that lamps should burn with light.

Then, blissful, bound for bed,

Sir Gawain waved good night.

So the morning dawns when man remembers

the day our Redeemer was born to die,

and every house on earth is joyful for Lord Jesus.

Their day was no different, being a diary of delights:

banquets and buffets were beautifully cooked

rooo and dutifully served to diners at the dais.

The ancient elder sat highest at the table

with the lord, I believe, in the chair to her left;

the sweeter one and Gawain took seats in the center

and were first at the feast to dine, then food

was carried around as custom decrees

and served to each man as his status deserved.

S i111011 A m1itage 8 7

Ther was mete, cher was myrthe, ther was much joye,

That for to celle therof hit me rene were,

And to poynte hit yet I pyned me paraventure.

ro1o Bot yet I woe that Wawen and the wale burde

Such comfort of her compaynye caghten togeder

Thurgh her dere dalyaunce of her derne wordes,

Wyth clene cortays carp closed fro fylthe,

That hor play was passande uche prynce gomen,

in vayres.

Trumpes and nakerys,

Much pypyng ther repayres;

Uche moo tented hys,

And thay two tented thayres.

1020 Much due was ther dryven chat day and that other,

And the thryd as thro thronge in cherafter;

The joye of sayn Jones day was gentyle to here,

And was the last of the layk, leudes ther thoghten.

Ther wer gestes to go upon the gray morne,

Forthy wonderly thay woke, and the wyn dronken,

Daunsed ful dreyly wych dere caroles.

At the last, when hit was late, thay lachen her leve,

Uchon to wende on his way that was wyye strange.

Gawan gef hym god day, the godmon hym lachches,

1 o3o Ledes hym to his awen chambre, the chymne bysyde,

And there he drawes hym on dryye, and derely hym thonkkes

Of the wynne worschip chat he hym wayved hade,

As to honour his hous on that hyghe cycle,

And enbelyse his burgh with his bele chere.

"Iwysse, sir, quyl I leve, me worthes the better

That Gawayn has ben my gest at Goddes awen fest."

"Grant merci, sir," quoth Gawayn, "in god fayth hit is yowres,

8 8 Sir Gawain a1. 1d the G reen Knight

There was feasting, there was fun, and such feelings of joy

as could not be conveyed by quick description,

yet to tell it in detail would take too much time.

1010 But I'm aware that Gawain and the beautiful woman

found such comfort and closeness in each other's company

through warm exchanges of whispered words

and refined conversation free from foulness

that their pleasure surpassed all princely sports

by far.

Beneath the din of drums

men followed their affairs,

and trumpets thrilled and thrummed

as those two tended theirs.

1o2o They drank and danced all day and the next

and danced and drank the day after that,

then Saint John's Day passed with a gentler joy

as the Christmas feasting came to a close.

Guests were to go in the grayness of dawn,

so they laughed and dined as the dusk darkened,

swaying and swirling to music and song.

Then at last, in the lateness, they upped and left

toward distant parts along different paths.

Gawain offered his good-byes, but was ushered by his host

1o3o to his host's own chamber and the heat of its chimney,

waylaid by the lord so the lord might thank him

profoundly and profusely for the favor he had shown

in honoring his house at that hallowed season

and lighting every corner of the castle with his character.

"For as long as I live my life shall be better

that Gawain was my guest at God's own feast."

"By God," said Gawain, "but the gratitude goes to you.

Simon A rmitage 8 9

Al the honour is your a wen-the heghe kyng yow yelde ! .

And I am, wyye, at your wylie, to worch youre hest,

1 o4o As I am halden therto, in hyghe and in lowe,

bi right. "

The lorde fast can hym payne

To holde lenger the knyght;

To hym answres Gawayn

Bi non way that he myght.

Then frayned the freke ful fayre at himselven

Quat derve dede had hym dryven at that dere tyme

So kenly fro the kynges kourt to kayre aJ his one,

Er the halidayes holly were haler our of toun.

1050 "For sothe, sir," quoth the segge, "ye sayn bot the trawthe,

A heghe ernde and. a hasty me hade fro tho wanes,

For I am sumned myselfe to sech to a place,

I ne wot in worlde whederwarde to wende hit to fynde.

I nolde bot if I hit negh myght on Nw Yeres marne

For alle the londe inwyth Logres, so me oure Lorde help!

Forrhy, sir, this enquest I require yow here,

That ye me telle with trawthe if ever ye tale herde

Of the grene chapel, quere hit on grounde stondes,

And of the knyght that hit kepes, of colour of grene.

1 o6o Ther was stabled bi statue a steven uus bytwene

To mete that mon at that mere, yif I myght last;

And of that ilk Nw Yere bot neked now wontes,

And I wolde lake on that lede, if God me let wolde,

Gladloker, bi Goddes Sun, then any god welde.

Forthi, iwysse, bi yowre wylie, wende me bihoves.

Naf I now to busy bot bare thre dayes,

And me als fayn to falle feye as fayly of myyn erode."

Theone laghande quoth the lord