Siþen þe sege & þe assaut wat3 sesed at Troye,

Þe bor3 brittened & brent to bronde3 & aske3,

Þe tulk þat þe trammes of tresoun þer wro3t,

Wat3 tried for his tricherie, þe trewest on erthe;

Hit wat3 Ennias þe athel, & his highe kynde,

Þat siþen depreced prouinces, & patrounes bicome

Welne3e of al þe wele in þe west iles,

Fro riche Romulus to Rome ricchis hym swyþe,

With gret bobbaunce þat bur3e he biges vpon fyrst,

& neuenes hit his aune nome, as hit now hat;

Ticius to Tuskan [turnes,] & teldes bigynnes;

Langaberde in Lumbardie lyftes vp homes;

& fer ouer þe French flod Felix Brutus

On mony bonkkes ful brode Bretayn he sette3,

wyth wynne;

Where werre, & wrake, & wonder,

Bi syþe3 hat3 wont þer-inne,

& oft boþe blysse & blunder

Ful skete hat3 skyfted synne.

Ande quen þis Bretayn wat3 bigged bi þis burn rych,

Bolde bredden þer-inne, baret þat lofden,

In mony turned tyme tene þat wro3ten;

Mo ferlyes on þis folde han fallen here oft

Þen in any oþer þat I wot, syn þat ilk tyme.

Bot of alle þat here bult of Bretaygne kynges

Ay wat3 Arthur þe hendest; as I haf herde telle;

For-þi an aunter in erde I attle to schawe,

Þat a selly in si3t summe men hit holden,

& an outtrage awenture of Arthure3 wondere3;

If 3e wyl lysten þis laye bot on littel quile,

I schal telle hit, as-tit, as I in toun herde,

with tonge;

As hit is stad & stoken,

In stori stif & stronge,

With lel letteres loken,

In londe so hat3 ben longe.

Þis kyng lay at Camylot vpon kryst-masse,

With mony luflych lorde, lede3 of þe best,

Rekenly of þe rounde table alle þo rich breþer,

With rych reuel ory3t, & rechles merþes;

Þer tournayed tulkes bi-tyme3 ful mony,

Iusted ful Iolilé þise gentyle kni3tes,

Syþen kayred to þe court, caroles to make.

For þer þe fest wat3 ilyche ful fiften dayes,

With alle þe mete & þe mirþe þat men couþe a-vyse;

Such glaumande gle glorious to here,

Dere dyn vp-on day, daunsyng on ny3tes,

Al wat3 hap vpon he3e in halle3 & chambre3,

With lorde3 & ladies, as leuest him þo3t;

With all þe wele of þe worlde þay woned þer samen,

Þe most kyd kny3te3 vnder kryste seluen,

& þe louelokkest ladies þat euer lif haden,

& he þe comlokest kyng þat þe court haldes;

For al wat3 þis fayre folk in her first age,

on sille;

Þe hapnest vnder heuen,

Kyng hy3est mon of wylle,

Hit were¹ now gret nye to neuen

So hardy a here on hille.

Wyle nw 3er wat3 so 3ep þat hit wat3 nwe cummen,

Þat day doubble on þe dece wat3 þe douth serued,

Fro þe kyng wat3 cummen with kny3tes in to þe halle,

Þe chauntre of þe chapel cheued to an ende;

Loude crye wat3 þer kest of clerke3 & oþer,

Nowel nayted o-newe, neuened ful ofte;

& syþen riche forth runnen to reche honde-selle,

3e3ed 3eres 3iftes on hi3, 3elde hem bi hond,

Debated busyly aboute þo giftes;

Ladies la3ed ful loude, þo3 þay lost haden,

& he þat wan wat3 not wrothe, þat may 3e wel trawe.

Alle þis mirþe þay maden to þe mete tyme;

When þay had waschen, worþyly þay wenten to sete,

Þe best burne ay abof, as hit best semed;

Whene Guenore ful gay, grayþed in þe myddes.

Dressed on þe dere des, dubbed al aboute,

Smal sendal bisides, a selure hir ouer

Of tryed Tolouse, of Tars tapites in-noghe,

Þat were enbrawded & beten wyth þe best gemmes,

Þat my3t be preued of prys wyth penyes to bye,

in daye;

Þe comlokest to discrye,

Þer glent with y3en gray,

A semloker þat euer he sy3e,

Soth mo3t no mon say.

Bot Arthure wolde not ete til al were serued,

He wat3 so Ioly of his Ioyfnes, & sum-quat child gered,

His lif liked hym ly3t, he louied þe lasse

Auþer to lenge lye, or to longe sitte,

So bi-sied him his 3onge blod & his brayn wylde;

& also anoþer maner meued him eke,

Þat he þur3 nobelay had nomen, ho wolde neuer ete

Vpon such a dere day, er hym deuised were

Of sum auenturus þyng an vncouþe tale,

Of sum mayn meruayle, þat he my3t trawe,

Of¹ alderes, of armes, of oþer auenturus,

Oþer sum segg hym bi-so3t of sum siker kny3t,

To Ioyne wyth hym in iustyng in Iopardé to lay,

Lede lif for lyf, leue vchon oþer,

As fortune wolde fulsun hom þe fayrer to haue.

Þis wat3 [þe] kynges countenaunce where he in court were,

At vch farand fest among his fre meny,

in halle;

Þer-fore of face so fere.

He sti3tle3 stif in stalle,

Ful 3ep in þat nw 3ere,

Much mirthe he mas with alle.

Thus þer stondes in stale þe stif kyng his-seluen,

Talkkande bifore þe hy3e table of trifles ful hende

There gode Gawan wat3 grayþed, Gwenore bisyde

& Agrauayn a la dure mayn on þat oþer syde sittes

Boþe þe kynges sister sunes, & ful siker kni3tes;

Bischop Bawdewyn abof bi-gine3 þe table,

& Ywan, Vryn son, ette wit hym-seluen;

Þise were di3t on þe des, & derworþly serued,

& siþen mony siker segge at þe sidborde3.

Þen þe first cors come with crakkyng of trumpes,

Wyth mony baner ful bry3t, þat þer-bi henged,

Nwe nakryn noyse with þe noble pipes,

Wylde werbles & wy3t wakned lote,

Þat mony hert ful hi3e hef at her towches;

Dayntes dryuen þer-wyth of ful dere metes,

Foysoun of þe fresche, & on so fele disches,

Þat pine to fynde þe place þe peple bi-forne

For to sette þe syluener,¹ þat sere sewes halden,

on clothe;

Iche lede as he loued hym-selue

Þer laght with-outen loþe,

Ay two had disches twelue,

Good ber, & bry3t wyn boþe.

Now wyl I of hor seruise say yow no more,

For veh wy3e may wel wit no wont þat þer were;

An oþer noyse ful newe ne3ed biliue,

Þat þe lude my3t haf leue lif-lode to cach.

For vneþe wat3 þe noyce not a whyle sesed,

& þe fyrst cource in þe court kyndely serued,

Þer hales in at þe halle dor an aghlich mayster,

On þe most on þe molde on mesure hyghe;

Fro þe swyre to þe swange so sware & so þik,

& his lyndes & his lymes so longe & so grete,

Half etayn in erde I hope þat he were.

Bot mon most I algate mynn hym to bene,

& þat þe myriest in his muckel þat my3t ride;

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

Bot his wombe & his wast were worthily smale,

& alle his fetures fol3ande, in forme þat he hade,

ful clene;

For wonder of his hwe men hade,

Set in his semblaunt sene;

He ferde as freke were fade,

& ouer-al enker grene.

Ande al grayþed in grene þis gome & his wedes,

A strayt cote ful stre3t, þat stek on his sides,

A mere mantile abof, mensked with-inne,

With pelure pured apert þe pane ful clene,

With blyþe blaunner ful bry3t, & his hod boþe,

Þat wat3 la3t fro his lokke3, & layde on his schulderes

Heme wel haled, hose of þat same grene,

Þat spenet on his sparlyr, & clene spures vnder,

Of bry3t golde, vpon silk bordes, barred ful ryche

& scholes vnder schankes, þere þe schalk rides;

& alle his vesture uerayly wat3 clene verdure,

Boþe þe barres of his belt & oþer blyþe stones,

Þat were richely rayled in his aray clene,

Aboutte hym-self & his sadel, vpon silk werke3,

Þat were to tor for to telle of tryfles þe halue,

Þat were enbrauded abof, wyth bryddes & fly3es,

With gay gaudi of grene, þe golde ay in myddes;

Þe pendauntes of his payttrure, þe proude cropure

His molaynes, & alle þe metail anamayld was þenne

Þe steropes þat he stod on, stayned of þe same,

& his arsoun3 al after, & his aþel sturtes,

Þat euer glemered¹ & glent al of grene stones.

Þe fole þat he ferkkes on, fyn of þat ilke,

sertayn;

A grene hors gret & þikke,

A stede ful stif to strayne,

In brawden brydel quik,

To þe gome he wat3 ful gayn.

Wel gay wat3 þis gome gered in grene,

& þe here of his hed of his hors swete;

Fayre fannand fax vmbe-foldes his schulderes;

A much berd as¹ a busk ouer his brest henges,

Þat wyth his hi3lich here, þat of his hed reches,

Wat3 euesed al vmbe-torne, a-bof his elbowes,

Þat half his armes þer vnder were halched in þe wyse

Of a kynge3 capados, þat closes his swyre.

Þe mane of þat mayn hors much to hit lyke,

Wel cresped & cemmed wyth knottes ful mony,

Folden in wyth fildore aboute þe fayre grene,

Ay a herle of þe here, an oþer of golde;

Þe tayl & his toppyng twynnen of a sute,

& bounden boþe wyth a bande of a bry3t grene,

Dubbed wyth ful dere stone3, as þe dok lasted,

Syþen þrawen wyth a þwong a þwarle knot alofte,

Þer mony belle3 ful bry3t of brende golde rungen.

Such a fole vpon folde, ne freke þat hym rydes,

Wat3 neuer sene in þat sale wyth sy3t er þat tyme,

with y3e;

He loked as layt so ly3t,

So sayd al þat hym sy3e,

Hit semed as no mon my3t,

Vnder his dyntte3 dry3e.

Wheþer hade he no helme ne hawb[e]rgh nauþer,

Ne no pysan, ne no plate þat pented to armes,

Ne no schafte, ne no schelde, to schwne ne to smyte,

Bot in his on honde he hade a holyn bobbe,

Þat is grattest in grene, when greue3 ar bare,

& an ax in his oþer, a hoge & vn-mete,

A spetos sparþe to expoun in spelle quo-so my3t;

Þe hede of an eln3erde þe large lenkþe hade,

Þe grayn al of grene stele & of golde hewen,

Þe bit burnyst bry3t, with a brod egge,

As wel schapen to schere as scharp rasores;

Þe stele of a stif staf þe sturne hit bi-grypte,

Þat wat3 wounden wyth yrn to þe wande3 ende,

& al bigrauen with grene, in gracios¹ werkes;

A lace lapped aboute, þat louked at þe hede,

& so after þe halme halched ful ofte,

Wyth tryed tassele3 þerto tacched in-noghe,

On botoun3 of þe bry3t grene brayden ful ryche.

Þis haþel helde3 hym in, & þe halle entres,

Driuande to þe he3e dece, dut he no woþe,

Haylsed he neuer one, bot he3e he ouer loked.

Þe fyrst word þat he warp, "wher is," he sayd,

"Þe gouernour of þis gyng? gladly I wolde

Se þat segg in sy3t, & with hym self speke

raysoun."

To kny3te3 he kest his y3e,

& reled hym vp & doun,

He stemmed & con studie,

Quo walt þer most renoun.

Ther wat3 lokyng on lenþe, þe lude to be-holde,

For vch mon had meruayle quat hit mene my3t,

Þat a haþel & a horse my3t such a hwe lach,

As growe grene as þe gres & grener hit semed,

Þen grene aumayl on golde lowande bry3ter;

Al studied þat þer stod, & stalked hym nerre,

Wyth al þe wonder of þe worlde, what he worch schulde.

For fele sellye3 had þay sen, bot such neuer are,

For-þi for fantoum & fayry3e þe folk þere hit demed;

Þer-fore to answare wat3 ar3e mony aþel freke,

& al stouned at his steuen, & stonstil seten,

In a swoghe sylence þur3 þe sale riche

As al were slypped vpon slepe so slaked hor lote3

in hy3e;

I deme hit not al for doute,

Bot sum for cortaysye,

Bot let hym þat al schulde loute,

Cast vnto þat wy3e.

Þenn Arþour bifore þe hi3 dece þat auenture byholde3,

& rekenly hym reuerenced, for rad was he neuer,

& sayde, "wy3e, welcum iwys to þis place,

Þe hede of þis ostel Arthour I hat,

Li3t luflych adoun, & lenge, I þe praye,

& quat so þy wylle is, we schal wyt after."

"Nay, as help me," quod þe haþel, "he þat on hy3e syttes,

To wone any quyle in þis won, hit wat3 not myn ernde;

Bot for þe los of þe lede is lyft vp so hy3e,

& þy bur3 & þy burnes best ar holden,

Stifest vnder stel-gere on stedes to ryde,

Þe wy3test & þe worþyest of þe worldes kynde,

Preue for to play wyth in oþer pure layke3;

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

& þat hat3 wayned me hider, I-wyis, at þis tyme.

3e may be seker bi þis braunch þat I bere here,

Þat I passe as in pes, & no ply3t seche;

For had I founded in fere, in fe3tyng wyse,

I haue a hauberghe at home & a helme boþe,

A schelde, & a scharp spere, schinande bry3t,

Ande oþer weppenes to welde, I wene wel als,

Bot for I wolde no were, my wede3 ar softer.

Bot if þou be so bold as alle burne3 tellen,

Þou wyl grant me godly þe gomen þat I ask,

bi ry3t."

Arthour con onsware,

& sayd, "sir cortays kny3t,

If þou craue batayl bare,

Here fayle3 þou not to fy3t."

"Nay, frayst I no fy3t, in fayth I þe telle,

Hit arn aboute on þis bench bot berdle3 chylder;

If I were hasped in armes on a he3e stede,

Here is no mon me to mach, for my3te3 so¹ wayke.

For-þy I craue in þis court a crystmas gomen,

For hit is 3ol & nwe 3er, & here ar 3ep mony;

If any so hardy in þis hous holde3 hym-seluen,

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

Þat dar stifly strike a strok for an oþer,

I schal gif hym of my gyft þys giserne ryche,

Þis ax, þat is heué in-nogh, to hondele as hym lykes,

& I schal bide þe fyrst bur, as bare as I sitte.

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

Lepe ly3tly me to, & lach þis weppen,

I quit clayme hit for euer, kepe hit as his auen,

& I schal stonde hym a strok, stif on þis flet,

Elle3 þou wyl di3t me þe dom to dele hym an oþer,

barlay;

& 3et gif hym respite,

A twelmonyth & a day;—

Now hy3e, & let se tite

Dar any her-inne o3t say."

If he hem stowned vpon fyrst, stiller were þanne

Alle þe hered-men in halle, þe hy3 & þe lo3e;

Þe renk on his rounce hym ruched in his sadel,

& runisch-ly his rede y3en he reled aboute,

Bende his bresed bro3e3, bly-cande grene,

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

When non wolde kepe hym with carp he co3ed ful hy3e,

Ande rimed hym ful richley, & ry3t hym to speke:

"What, is þis Arþures hous," quod þe haþel þenne,

"Þat al þe rous rennes of, þur3 ryalmes so mony?

Where is now your sourquydrye & your conquestes,

Your gry[n]del-layk, & your greme, & your grete wordes?

Now is þe reuel & þe renoun of þe rounde table

Ouer-walt wyth a worde of on wy3es speche;

For al dares for drede, with-oute dynt schewed!"

Wyth þis he la3es so loude, þat þe lorde greued;

Þe blod schot for scham in-to his schyre face

& lere;

He wex as wroth as wynde,

So did alle þat þer were

Þe kyng as kene bi kynde,

Þen stod þat stif mon nere.

Ande sayde, "haþel, by heuen þyn askyng is nys,

& as þou foly hat3 frayst, fynde þe be-houes;

I know no gome þat is gast of þy grete wordes.

Gif me now þy geserne, vpon gode3 halue,

& I schal bayþen þy bone, þat þou boden habbes."

Ly3tly lepe3 he hym to, & la3t at his honde;

Þen feersly þat oþer freke vpon fote ly3tis.

Now hat3 Arthure his axe, & þe halme grype3,

& sturnely sture3 hit aboute, þat stryke wyth hit þo3t.

Þe stif mon hym bifore stod vpon hy3t,

Herre þen ani in þe hous by þe hede & more;

Wyth sturne schere¹ þer he stod, he stroked his berde,

& wyth a countenaunce dry3e he dro3 doun his cote,

No more mate ne dismayd for hys mayn dinte3,

Þen any burne vpon bench hade bro3t hym to drynk

of wyne,

Gawan, þat sate bi þe quene,

To þe kyng he can enclyne,

"I be-seche now with sa3e3 sene,

Þis melly mot be myne."

"Wolde 3e, worþilych lorde," quod Gawan to þe kyng,

"Bid me bo3e fro þis benche, & stonde by yow þere,

Þat I wyth-oute vylanye my3t voyde þis table,

& þat my legge lady lyked not ille,

I wolde com to your counseyl, bifore your cort ryche.

For me þink hit not semly, as hit is soþ knawen,

Þer such an askyng is heuened so hy3e in your sale,

Þa33e 3our-self be talenttyf to take hit to your-seluen,

Whil mony so bolde yow aboute vpon bench sytten,

Þat vnder heuen, I hope, non ha3er er of wylle,

Ne better bodyes on bent, þer baret is rered;

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

& lest lur of my lyf, quo laytes þe soþe,

Bot for as much as 3e ar myn em, I am only to prayse,

No bounté bot your blod I in my bodé knowe;

& syþen þis note is so nys, þat no3t hit yow falles,

& I haue frayned hit at yow fyrst, folde3 hit to me,

& if I carp not comlyly, let alle þis cort rych,

bout blame."

Ryche to-geder con roun,

& syþen þay redden alle same,

To ryd þe kyng wyth croun,

& gif Gawan þe game.

Þen comaunded þe kyng þe kny3t for to ryse;

& he ful radly vp ros, & ruchched hym fayre,

Kneled doun bifore þe kyng, & cache3 þat weppen;

& he luflyly hit hym laft, & lyfte vp his honde,

& gef hym godde3 blessyng, & gladly hym biddes

Þat his hert & his honde schulde hardi be boþe.

"Kepe þe cosyn," quod þe kyng, "þat þou on kyrf sette,

& if þou rede3 hym ry3t, redly I trowe,

Þat þou schal byden þe bur þat he schal bede after.

Gawan got3 to þe gome, with giserne in honde,

& he baldly hym byde3, he bayst neuer þe helder

Þen carppe3 to sir Gawan þe kny3t in þe grene,

"Refourme we oure for-wardes, er we fyrre passe.

Fyrst I eþe þe, haþel, how þat þou hattes,

Þat þou me telle truly, as I tryst may?"

"In god fayth," quod þe goode kny3t, "Gawan I hatte,

Þat bede þe þis buffet, quat-so bi-falle3 after,

& at þis tyme twelmonyth take at þe anoþer,

Wyth what weppen so¹ þou wylt, & wyth no wy3 elle3,

on lyue."

Þat oþer on-sware3 agayn,

"Sir Gawan, so mot I þryue,

As I am ferly fayn.

Þis dint þat þou schal dryue."

"Bigog," quod þe grene kny3t, "sir Gawan, melykes,

Þat I schal fange at þy fust þat I haf frayst here;

& þou hat3 redily rehersed, bi resoun ful trwe,

Clanly al þe couenaunt þat I þe kynge asked,

Saf þat þou schal siker me, segge, bi þi trawþe,

Þat þou schal seche me þi-self, where-so þou hopes

I may be funde vpon folde, & foch þe such wages

As þou deles me to day, bifore þis douþe ryche."

"Where schulde I wale þe," quod Gauan, "where is þy place?

I wot neuer where þou wonyes, bi hym þat me wro3t,

Ne I know not þe, kny3t, þy cort, ne þi name.

Bot teche me truly þer-to, & telle me howe þou hattes,

& I schal ware alle my wyt to wynne me þeder,

& þat I swere þe for soþe, & by my seker traweþ."

"Þat is in-nogh in nwe 3er, hit nedes no more,"

Quod þe gome in þe grene to Gawan þe hende,

"3if I þe telle trwly, quen I þe tape haue,

& þou me smoþely hat3 smyten, smartly I þe teche

Of my hous, & my home, & myn owen nome,

Þen may þou frayst my fare, & forwarde3 holde,

& if I spende no speche, þenne spede3 þou þe better,

For þou may leng in þy londe, & layt no fyrre,

bot slokes;

Ta now þy grymme tole to þe,

& let se how þou cnoke3."

"Gladly sir, for soþe,"

Quod Gawan; his ax he strokes.

The grene kny3t vpon grounde grayþely hym dresses,

A littel lut with þe hede, þe lere he discouere3,

His longe louelych lokke3 he layd ouer his croun.

Let þe naked nec to þe note schewe.

Gauan gripped to his ax, & gederes hit on hy3t,

Þe kay fot on þe folde he be-fore sette,

Let hit doun ly3tly ly3t on þe naked,

Þat þe scharp of þe schalk schyndered þe bones,

& schrank þur3 þe schyire grece, & scade hit in twynne,

Þat þe bit of þe broun stel bot on þe grounde.

Þe fayre hede fro þe halce hit [felle] to þe erþe,

Þat fele hit foyned wyth her fete, þere hit forth roled;

Þe blod brayd fro þe body, þat blykked on þe grene;

& nawþer faltered ne fel þe freke neuer þe helder,

Bot styþly he start forth vpon styf schonkes,

& ru[n]yschly he ra3t out, þere as renkke3 stoden,

La3t to his lufly hed, & lyft hit vp sone;

& syþen bo3e3 to his blonk, þe brydel he cachche3,

Steppe3 in to stel bawe & stryde3 alofte,

& his hede by þe here in his honde halde3;

& as sadly þe segge hym in his sadel sette,

As non vnhap had hym ayled, þa3 hedle3 he¹ we[re],

in stedde;

He brayde his bluk² aboute,

Þat vgly bodi þat bledde,

Moni on of hym had doute,

Bi þat his resoun3 were redde.