Sir Gawayne and the Green Knight | Page 2

loveliest that ever had life (ll. 37-57). This noble company
celebrate the New Year by a religious service, by the bestowal of gifts, and the most
joyous mirth. Lords and ladies take their seats at the table--Queen Guenever, the
grey-eyed, gaily dressed, sits at the daïs, the high table, or table of state, where too sat
Gawayne and Ywain together with other worthies of the Round Table (ll. 58-84,
107-115). Arthur, in mood as joyful as a child, his blood young and his brain wild,
declares that he will not eat nor sit long at the table until some adventurous thing, some
uncouth tale, some great marvel, or some encounter of arms has occurred to mark the
return of the New Year (ll. 85-106).
The first course was announced with cracking of trumpets, with the noise of nakers and
noble pipes.
"Each two had dishes twelve,
Good beer and bright wine both."
Scarcely was the first course served when another noise than that of music was heard.
There rushes in at the hall-door a knight of gigantic stature--the greatest on earth--in
measure high. He was clothed entirely in green, and rode upon a green foal (ll. 116-178).
Fair wavy hair fell about the shoulders of the Green Knight, and a great beard like a bush
hung upon his breast (ll. 179-202).
The knight carried no helmet, shield, or spear, but in one hand a holly bough, and in the
other an axe "huge and unmeet," the edge of which was as keen as a sharp razor (ll.
203-220). Thus arrayed, the Green Knight enters the hall without saluting any one. The
first word that he uttered was, "Where is the govenour of this gang? gladly would I see
him and with himself speak reason." To the knights he cast his eye, looking for the most

renowned. Much did the noble assembly marvel to see a man and a horse of such a hue,
green as the grass. Even greener they seemed than green enamel on bright gold. Many
marvels had they seen, but none such as this. They were afraid to answer, but sat
stone-still in a dead silence, as if overpowered by sleep;
"Not all from fear, but some for courtesy" (ll. 221-249).
Then Arthur before the high daïs salutes the Green Knight, bids him welcome, and
entreats him to stay awhile at his Court. The knight says that his errand is not to abide in
any dwelling, but to seek the most valiant of the heroes of the Round Table that he may
put his courage to the proof, and thus satisfy himself as to the fame of Arthur's court. "I
come," he says, "in peace, as ye may see by this branch that I bear here. Had I come with
hostile intentions, I should not have left my hauberk, helmet, shield, sharp spear, and
other weapons behind me. But because I desire no war, 'my weeds are softer.' If thou be
so bold as all men say, thou wilt grant me the request I am about to make." "Sir courteous
knight," replies Arthur, "if thou cravest battle only, here failest thou not to fight." "Nay,"
says the Green Knight, "I seek no fighting. Here about on this bench are only beardless
children. Were I arrayed in arms on a high steed no man here would be a match for me (ll.
250-282). But it is now Christmas time, and this is the New Year, and I see around me
many brave ones;--if any be so bold in his blood that dare strike a stroke for another, I
shall give him this rich axe to do with it whatever he pleases. I shall abide the first blow
just as I sit, and will stand him a stroke, stiff on this floor, provided that I deal him
another in return.
And yet give I him respite,
A twelvemonth and a day;
Now haste and let see tite (soon)

Dare any here-in ought say.'"
If he astounded them at first, much more so did he after this speech, and fear held them
all silent. The knight, righting himself in his saddle, rolls fiercely his red eyes about,
bends his bristly green brows, and strokes his beard awaiting a reply. But finding none
that would carp with him, he exclaims, "What! is this Arthur's house, the fame of which
has spread through so many realms? Forsooth, the renown of the Round Table is
overturned by the word of one man's speech, for all tremble for dread without a blow
being struck!" (ll. 283-313). With this he laughed so loud that Arthur blushed for very
shame, and waxed as wroth as the wind. "I know no man," he says, "that is aghast at thy
great words. Give me now thy axe and I will grant thee thy