Thenne wat3 hit lif vpon list to lyþen þe hounde3,

When alle þe mute hade hym met, menged to-geder,

Suche a sor3e at þat sy3t þay sette on his hede,

As alle þe clamberande clyffes hade clatered on hepes;

Here he wat3 halawed, when haþele3 hym metten,

Loude he wat3 3ayned, with 3arande speche;

Þer he wat3 þreted, & ofte þef called,

& ay þe titleres at his tayl, þat tary he ne my3t;

Ofte he wat3 runnen at, when he out rayked,

& ofte reled in a3ayn, so reniarde wat3 wylé.

& 3e he lad hem bi lag, mon, þe lorde & his meyny;

On þis maner bi þe mountes, quyle myd, ouer, vnder,

Whyle þe hende kny3t at home holsumly slepe3,

With-inne þe comly cortynes, on þe colde morne.

Bot þe lady for luf let not to slepe,

Ne þe purpose to payre, þat py3t in hir hert,

Bot ros hir vp radly, rayked hir þeder,

In a mery mantyle, mete to þe erþe,

Þat wat3 furred ful fyne with felle3, wel pured,

No hwe3 goud on hir hede, bot þe ha3er stones

Trased aboute hir tressour, be twenty in clusteres;

Hir þryuen face & hir þrote þrowen al naked,

Hir brest bare bifore, & bihinde eke.

Ho come3 with-inne þe chambre dore, & closes hit hir after,

Wayne3¹ vp a wyndow, & on þe wy3e calle3,

& radly þus re-hayted hym, with hir riche worde3,

with² chere;

"A! mon, how may þou slepe,

Þis morning is so clere?"

He wat3 in drowping depe,

Bot þenne he con hir here.

In dre3 droupyng of dreme draueled þat noble,

As mon þat wat3 in mornyng of mony þro þo3tes,

How þat destiné schulde þat day [dy3t] his wyrde,

At þe grene chapel, when he þe gome metes,

& bi-houes his buffet abide, with-oute debate more;

Bot quen þat comly he keuered his wyttes,

Swenges out of þe sweuenes, & sware3 with hast.

Þe lady luflych com la3ande swete,

Felle ouer his fayre face, & fetly him kyssed;

He welcume3 hir worþily, with a wale chere;

He se3 hir so glorious, & gayly atyred,

So fautles of hir fetures, & of so fyne hewes,

Wi3t wallande Ioye warmed his hert;

With smoþe smylyng & smolt þay smeten in-to merþe,

Þat al wat3 blis & bonchef, þat breke hem bi-twene,

& wynne,

Þay lanced wordes gode,

Much wele þen wat3 þer-inne,

Gret perile bi-twene hem stod,

Nif mare of hir kny3t mynne.

For þat prynce of pris de-presed hym so þikke.

Nurned hym so ne3e þe þred, þat nede hym bi-houed,

Oþer lach þer hir luf, oþer lodly re-fuse;

He cared for his cortaysye, lest craþayn he were,

& more for his meschef, 3if he schulde make synne,

& be traytor to þat tolke, þat þat telde a3t.

"God schylde," quod þe schalk, "þat schal not be-falle!"

With luf-la3yng a lyt, he layd hym by-syde

Alle þe speche3 of specialté þat sprange of her mouthe.

Quod þat burde to þe burne, "blame 3e disserue,

3if 3e luf not þat lyf þat 3e lye nexte,

Bifore alle þe wy3e3 in þe worlde, wounded in hert,

Bot if 3e haf a lemman, a leuer, þat yow lyke3 better,

& folden fayth to þat fre, festned so harde,

Þat yow lausen ne lyst, & þat I leue nouþe;

And þat 3e telle me þat, now trwly I pray yow,

For alle þe lufe3 vpon lyue, layne not þe soþe,

for gile."

Þe kny3t sayde, "be sayn Ion,"

& smeþely con he smyle,

"In fayth I welde ri3t non,

Ne non wil welde þe quile."

"Þat is a worde," quod þat wy3t, "þat worst is of alle,

Bot I am swared for soþe, þat sore me þinkke3;

Kysse me now coraly, & I schal cach heþen,

I may bot mourne vpon molde, as may þat much louyes."

Sykande ho swe3e doun, & semly hym kyssed,

& siþen ho seueres hym fro, & says as ho stondes,

"Now, dere, at þis de-partyng, do me þis ese,

Gif me sumquat of þy gifte, þi gloue if¹ hit were,

Þat I may mynne on þe mon, my mournyng to lassen."

"Now Iwysse," quod þat wy3e, "I wolde I hade here

Þe leuest þing for þy luf, þat I in londe welde,

For 3e haf deserued, forsoþe, sellyly ofte

More rewarde bi resoun, þen I reche my3t,

Bot to dele yow for drurye, þat dawed bot neked;

Hit is not your honour to haf at þis tyme

A gloue for a garysoun, of Gawayne3 gifte3,

& I am here [on] an erande in erde3 vncouþe,

& haue no men wyth no male3, with menskful þinge3;

Þat mislyke3 me, ladé, for luf at þis tyme,²

Iche tolke mon do as he is tan, tas to non ille,

ne pine."

"Nay, hende of hy3e honours,"

Quod þat lufsum vnder lyne,

"Þa3 I hade o3t³ of youre3,

3et schulde 3e haue of myne."

Ho ra3t hym a riche rynk¹ of red golde werke3,

Wyth a starande ston, stondande alofte,

Þat bere blusschande beme3 as þe bry3t sunne;

Wyt 3e wel, hit wat3 worth wele ful hoge.

Bot þe renk hit renayed, & redyly he sayde,

"I wil no gifte3 for gode, my gay, at þis tyme;

I haf none yow to norne, ne no3t wyl I take."

Ho bede hit hym ful bysily, & he hir bode wernes,

& swere swyftel[y] his sothe, þat he hit sese nolde;

& ho sore þat he forsoke, & sayde þer-after,

"If 3e renay my rynk, to ryche for hit seme3,

3e wolde not so hy3ly halden be to me,

I schal gif yow my girdel, þat gaynes yow lasse."

Ho la3t a lace ly3tly, þat² leke vmbe hir syde3,

Knit vpon hir kyrtel, vnder þe clere mantyle,

Gered hit wat3 with grene sylke, & with golde schaped,

No3t bot arounde brayden, beten with fyngre3;

& þat ho bede to þe burne, & blyþely bi-so3t

Þa3 hit vn-worþi were, þat he hit take wolde.

& he nay þat he nolde neghe in no wyse,

Nauþer golde ne garysoun, er God hym grace sende,

To acheue to þe chaunce þat he hade chosen þere.

"& þerfore, I pray yow, displese yow no3t,

& lette3 be your bisinesse, for I bayþe hit yow neuer

to graunte;

I am derely to yow biholde,

Bi-cause of your sembelaunt,

& euer in hot & colde

To be your trwe seruaunt.

"Now forsake 3e þis silke." sayde þe burde þenne,

"For hit is symple in hit-self. & so hit wel seme3?

Lo! so hit is littel, & lasse hit is worþy;

Bot who-so knew þe costes þat knit ar þer-inne,

He wolde hit prayse at more prys, parauenture;

For quat gome so is gorde with þis grene lace,

While he hit hade hemely halched aboute,

Þer is no haþel vnder heuen to-hewe hym þat my3t;

For he my3t not he slayn, for sly3t vpon erþe."

Þen kest þe kny3t, & hit come to his hert,

Hit were a Iuel for þe Iopardé, þat hym iugged were,

When he acheued to þe chapel, his chek forto fech;

My3¹ he haf slypped to þe vn-slayn, þe sle3t were noble.

Þenne ho þulged with hir þrepe, & þoled hir to speke,

& ho bere on hym þe belt, & bede hit hym swyþe,

& he granted, & [ho] hym gafe with a goud wylle,

& biso3t hym, for hir sake, disceuer hit neuer,

Bot to lelly layne for² hir lorde; þe leude hym acorde3.

Þat neuer wy3e schulde hit wyt, Iwysse, bot þay twayne,

for no3te;

He þonkked hir oft ful swyþe,

Ful þro with hert & þo3t.

Bi þat on þrynne syþe,

He hat3 kyst þe kny3t so to3t.

Thenne lachche3 ho hir leue, & leue3 hym þere,

For more myrþe of þat mon mo3t ho not gete;

When ho¹ wat3 gon, sir G. gere3 hym sone,

Rises, & riches hym in araye noble,

Lays vp þe luf-lace, þe lady hym ra3t,

Hid hit ful holdely, þer he hit eft fonde;

Syþen cheuely to þe chapel choses he þe waye,

Preuely aproched to a prest, & prayed hym þere

Þat he wolde lyfte² his lyf, & lern hym better,

How his sawle schulde be saued, when he schuld seye heþen.

Þere he schrof hym schyrly, & schewed his mysdede3,

Of þe more & þe mynne, & merci beseche3,

& of absolucioun he on þe segge calles;

& he asoyled hym surely, & sette hym so clene,

As dome3-day schulde haf ben di3t on þe morn.

& syþen he mace hym as mery among þe fre ladyes,

With comlych caroles, & alle kynnes ioye,

As neuer he did bot þat daye, to þe derk ny3t,

with blys;

Vche mon hade daynte þare,

Of hym, & sayde Iwysse,

Þus myry he wat3 neuer are,

Syn he com hider, er þis.

Now hym lenge in þat lee, þer luf hym bi-tyde;

3et is þe lorde on þe launde, ledande his gomnes,

He hat3 forfaren þis fox, þat he fol3ed longe;

As he sprent ouer a spenné, to spye þe schrewe,

Þer as he herd þe howndes, þat hasted hym swyþe,

Renaud com richchande þur3 a ro3e greue,

& alle þe rabel in a res, ry3t at his hele3.

Þe wy3e wat3 war of þe wylde, & warly abides,

& brayde3 out þe bry3t bronde, & at þe best caste3;

& he schunt for þe scharp, & schulde haf arered,

A rach rapes hym to, ry3t er he my3t,

& ry3t bifore þe hors fete þay fel on hym alle,

& woried me þis wyly wyth a wroth noyse.

Þe lorde ly3te3 bilyue, & cache3 by¹ sone,

Rased hym ful radly out of þe rach mouþes,

Halde3 he3e ouer his hede, halowe3 faste,

& þer bayen hym mony bray² hounde3;

Huntes hy3ed hem þeder, with horne3 ful mony,

Ay re-chatande ary3t til þay þe renk se3en;

Bi þat wat3 comen his compeyny noble,

Alle þat euer ber bugle blowed at ones,

& alle þise oþer halowed, þat hade no hornes,

Hit wat3 þe myriest mute þat euer men herde,

Þe rich rurd þat þer wat3 raysed for renaude saule,

with lote;

Hor hounde3 þay þer rewarde,

Her³ hede3 þay fawne & frote,

& syþen þay tan reynarde,

& tyrnen of his cote.

& þenne þay helden to home, for hit wat3 nie3 ny3t,

Strakande ful stoutly in hor store horne3;

Þe lorde is ly3t at þe laste at hys lef home,

Fynde3 fire vpon flet, þe freke þer by-side,

Sir Gawayn þe gode, þat glad wat3 with alle,

Among þe ladies for luf he ladde much ioye,

He were a bleaunt of blwe, þat bradde to þe erþe,

His surkot semed hym wel, þat softe wat3 forred,

& his hode of þat ilke henged on his schulder,

Blande al of blaunner were boþe al aboute.

He mete3 me þis god mon in mydde3 þe flore,

& al with gomen he hym gret, & goudly he sayde,

"I schal fylle vpon fyrst oure forwarde3 nouþe,

Þat we spedly han spoken, þer spared wat3 no drynk;"

Þen acoles he [þe] kny3t, & kysses hym þryes,

As sauerly & sadly as he hem sette couþe.

"Bi Kryst," quod þat oþer kny3t, "3e cach much sele,

In cheuisaunce of þis chaffer, 3if 3e hade goud chepe3."

"3e of þe chepe no charg," quod chefly þat oþer,

"As is pertly payed þe chepe3 þat I a3te."

"Mary," quod þat oþer mon, "myn is bi-hynde,

For I haf hunted al þis day, & no3t haf I geten,

Bot þis foule fox felle, þe fende haf þe gode3,

& þat is ful pore, for to pay for suche prys þinges,

As 3e haf þry3t me here, þro suche þre cosses,

so gode."

"I-no3," quod sir Gawayn,

"I þonk yow, bi þe rode;"

& how þe fox wat3 slayn,

He tolde hym, as þay stode.

With merþe & mynstralsye, wyth mete3 at hor wylle,

Þay maden as mery as any men mo3ten,

With la3yng of ladies, with lote3 of bordes;

Gawayn & þe gode mon so glad were þay boþe,

Bot if þe douthe had doted, oþer dronken ben oþer,

Boþe þe mon & þe meyny maden mony iape3,

Til þe sesoun wat3 se3en, þat þay seuer moste;

Burne3 to hor bedde be-houed at þe laste.

Þenne lo3ly his leue at þe lorde fyrst

Fochche3 þis fre mon, & fayre he hym þonkke3;

"Of such a sellyly¹ soiorne, as I haf hade here,

Your honour, at þis hy3e fest, þe hy3e kyng yow 3elde!

I 3ef yow me for on of youre3, if yowre-self lyke3,

For I mot nedes, as 3e wot, meue to morne;

& 3e me take sum tolke, to teche, as 3e hy3t,

Þe gate to þe grene chapel, as god wyl me suffer

To dele, on nw3ere3 day, þe dome of my wyrdes."

"In god fayþe," quod þe god mon. "wyth a goud wylle;

Al þat euer I yow hy3t, halde schal I rede."

Þer asyngnes he a seruaunt, to sett hym in þe waye,

& coundue hym by þe downe3, þat he no drechch had,

For to f[e]rk þur3 þe fryth, & fare at þe gaynest,

bi greue.

Þe lorde Gawayn con þonk,

Such worchip he wolde hym weue;

Þen at þo ladye3 wlonk.

Þe kny3t hat3 tan his leue.

With care & wyth kyssyng he carppe3 hem tille,

& fele þryuande þonkke3 he þrat hom to haue,

& þay 3elden hym a3ay[n] 3eply þat ilk;

Þay bikende hym to Kryst, with ful colde sykynge3.

Syþen fro þe meyny he menskly de-partes;

Vche mon þat he mette, he made hem a þonke,

For his seruyse, & his solace, & his sere pyne,

Þat þay wyth busynes had ben, aboute hym to serue;

& vche segge as sore, to seuer with hym þere,

As þay hade wonde worþyly with þat wlonk euer.

Þen with ledes & ly3t he wat3 ladde to his chambre,

& blybely bro3t to his bedde, to be at his rest;

3if he ne slepe soundyly, say ne dar I,

For he hade muche on þe morn to mynne, 3if he wolde,

in þo3t;

Let hym ly3e þere stille,

He hat3¹ nere þat he so3t,

& 3e wyl a whyle be stylle,

I schal telle yow how þay wro3t.

Now ne3e3 þe nw3ere, & þe ny3t passe3,

Þe day dryue3 to þe derk, as dry3tyn bidde3;

Bot wylde wedere3 of þe worlde wakned þeroute,

Clowdes kesten kenly þe colde to þe erþe,

Wyth ny3e¹ in-noghe of þe norþe, þe naked to tene;

Þe snawe snitered ful snart, þat snayped þe wylde;

Þe werbelande wynde wapped fro þe hy3e,

& drof vche dale ful of dryftes ful grete.

Þe leude lystened ful wel, þat le3 in his bedde,

Þa3 he lowke3 his lidde3, ful lyttel he slepes;

Bi vch kok þat crue, he knwe wel þe steuen.

De-liuerly he dressed vp, er þe day sprenged,

For þere wat3 ly3t of a lau[m]pe, þat lemed in his chambre;

He called to his chamberlayn, þat cofly hym swared,

& bede hym bryng hym his bruny, & his blonk sadel;

Þat oþer ferke3 hym vp, & feche3 hym his wede3,

& grayþe3 me sir Gawayn vpon a grett wyse.

Fyrst he clad hym in his cloþe3, þe colde for to were;

& syþen his oþer harnays, þat holdely wat3 keped,

Boþe his paunce, & his plate3, piked ful clene,

Þe rynge3² rokked of þe roust, of his riche bruny;

& al wat3 fresch as vpon fyrst, & he wat3 fayn þenne

to þonk;

He hade vpon vche pece,

Wypped ful wel & wlonk;

Þe gayest in to Grece,

Þe burne bede bryng his blonk.

Whyle þe wlonkest wedes he warp on hym-seluen;

His cote, wyth be conysaunce of þe clere werke3,

Ennurned vpon veluet vertuuus¹ stone3,

Aboute beten, & bounden, enbrauded seme3,

& fayre furred with-inne wyth fayre pelures.

3et laft he not þe lace, þe ladie3 gifte,

Þat for-gat not Gawayn, for gode of hym-seluen;

Bi he hade belted þe bronde vpon his bal3e haunche3,

Þenn dressed he his drurye double hym aboute;

Swyþe sweþled vmbe his swange swetely, þat kny3t,

Þe gordel of þe grene silke, þat gay wel bisemed,

Vpon þat ryol red cloþe, þat ryche wat3 to schewe.

Bot wered not þis ilk wy3e for wele þis gordel,

For pryde of þe pendaunte3, þa3 polyst þay were,

& þa3 þe glyterande golde glent vpon ende3,

Bot forto sauen hym-self, when suffer hym by-houed,

To byde bale with-oute dabate, of bronde hym to were,

oþer knyffe;

Bi þat þe bolde mon boun,

Wynne3 þeroute bilyue,

Alle þe meyny of renoun,

He þonkke3 ofte ful ryue.

Thenne wat3 Gryngolet grayþe, þat gret wat3 & huge,

& hade ben soiourned sauerly, & in a siker wyse,

Hym lyst prik for poynt, þat proude hors þenne;

Þe wy3e wynne3 hym to, & wyte3 on his lyre,

& sayde soberly hym-self, & by his soth swere3,

"Here is a meyny in þis mote, þat on menske þenkke3,

Þe mon hem maynteines, ioy mot þay haue;

Þe leue lady, on lyue luf hir bityde;

3if þay for charyté cherysen a gest,

& halden honour in her honde, þe haþel hem 3elde,

Þat halde3 þe heuen vpon hy3e, & also yow alle!

& 3if I my3t lyf vpon londe lede any quyle,

I schuld rech yow sum rewarde redyly, if I my3t."

Þenn steppe3 he in-to stirop, & stryde3 alofte;

His schalk schewed hym his schelde, on schulder he hit la3t,

Gorde3 to Gryngolet, with his gilt hele3,

& he starte3 on þe ston, stod he no lenger,

to praunce;

His haþel on hors wat3 þenne,

Þat bere his spere & launce.

"Þis kastel to Kryst I kenne,

He gef hit ay god chaunce!"

The brygge wat3 brayde doun, & þe brode 3ate3

Vnbarred, & born open, vpon boþe halue;

Þe burne blessed hym bilyue, & þe brede3 passed;

Prayses þe porter, bifore þe prynce kneled,

Gef hym God & goud day, þat Gawayn he saue;

& went on his way, with his wy3e one,

Þat schulde teche hym to tourne to þat tene place,

Þer þe ruful race he schulde re-sayue.

Þay bo3en bi bonkke3, þer bo3e3 ar bare,

Þay clomben bi clyffe3, þer clenge3 þe colde;

Þe heuen wat3 vp halt, bot vgly þer vnder,

Mist muged on þe mor, malt on þe mounte3,

Vch hille hade a hatte, a myst-hakel huge;

Broke3 byled, & breke, bi bonkke3 aboute,

Schyre schaterande on schore3, þer þay doun schowued.

Welawylle wat3 þe way, þer þay bi wod schulden,

Til hit wat3 sone sesoun, þat þe sunne ryses,

þat tyde;

Þay were on a hille ful hy3e,

Þe quyte snaw lay bisyde;

Þe burne þat rod hym by

Bede his mayster abide.

"For I haf wonnen yow hider, wy3e, at þis tyme,

& now nar 3e not fer fro þat note place,

Þat 3e han spied & spuryed so specially after;

Bot I schal say yow for soþe, syþen I yow knowe,

& 3e ar a lede vpon lyue, þat I wel louy,

Wolde 3e worch bi my wytte, 3e worþed þe better.

Þe place þat 3e prece to, ful perelous is halden;

Þer wone3 a wy3e in þat waste, þe worst vpon erþe;

For he is stiffe, & sturne, & to strike louies,

& more he is þen any mon vpon myddelerde,

& his body bigger þen þe best fowre.

Þat ar in Arþure3 hous, Hestor¹ oþer oþer.

He cheue3 þat chaunce at þe chapel grene;

Þer passes non bi þat place, so proude in his armes,

Þat he ne dynne3 hym to deþe, with dynt of his honde;

For he is a mon methles, & mercy non vses,

For be hit chorle, oþer chaplayn, þat bi þe chapel rydes,

Monk, oþer masse-prest, oþer any mon elles,

Hym þynk as queme hym to quelle, as quyk go hym seluen.

For-þy I say þe as soþe as 3e in sadel sitte,

Com 3e þere, 3e be kylled, [I] may þe kny3t rede,

Trawe 3e me þat trwely, þa3 3e had twenty lyues

to spende;

He hat3 wonyd here ful 3ore,

On bent much baret bende,

A3ayn his dynte3 sore,

3e may not yow defende."

"For-þy, goude sir Gawayn, let þe gome one,

& got3 a-way sum oþer gate; vpon Godde3 halue;

Cayre3 bi sum oþer kyth, þer Kryst mot yow spede;

& I schal hy3 me hom a3ayn, & hete yow fyrre,

Þat I schal swere bi God, & alle his gode hal3e3,

As help me God & þe halydam, & oþe3 in-noghe,

Þat I schal lelly yow layne, & lance neuer tale,

Þat euer 3e fondet to fle, for freke þat I wyst."

"Grant merci;" quod Gawayn, & gruchyng he sayde,

"Wel worth þe wy3e, þat wolde3 my gode,

& þat lelly me layne, I leue wel þou wolde3!

Bot helde þou hit neuer so holde, & I here passed,

Founded for ferde for to fle, in fourme þat þou telle3,

I were a kny3t kowarde, I my3t not¹ be excused.

Bot I wy1 to þe chape1, for chaunce þat may falle,

& talk wyth þat ilk tulk þe tale þat me lyste,

Worþe hit wele, oþer wo, as þe wyrde lyke3

hit hafe;

Þa3e he be a sturn knape,

To sti3tel, &² stad with staue,

Ful wel con dry3tyn schape,

His seruaunte3 forto saue."