Sir Gawayne and the Green Knight | Page 4

thine axe, for enough has it
hewn." So the weapon was hung up on high that all might look upon it, and "by true title
thereof tell the wonder." Then all the knights hastened to their seats at the table, so did
the king and our good knight, and they were there served with all dainties, "with all
manner of meat and minstrelsy."
Though words were wanting when they first to seat went, now are their hands full of
stern work, and the marvel affords them good subject for conversation. But a year passes
full quickly and never returns,--the beginning is seldom like the end; wherefore this
Christmas passed away and the year after, and each season in turn followed after another
(ll. 476-520). Thus winter winds round again, and then Gawayne thinks of his wearisome
journey (ll. 521-535). On All-hallows day Arthur entertains right nobly the lords and
ladies of his court in honour of his nephew, for whom all courteous knights and lovely
ladies were in great grief. Nevertheless they spoke only of mirth, and, though joyless
themselves, made many a joke to cheer the good Sir Gawayne (ll. 536-565). Early on the
morrow Sir Gawayne, with great ceremony, is arrayed in his armour (ll. 566-589), and
thus completely equipped for his adventure he first hears mass, and afterwards takes
leave of Arthur, the knights of the Round Table, and the lords and ladies of the court,
who kiss him and commend him to Christ. He bids them all good day, as he thought, for
evermore (ll. 590-669);
"Very much was the warm water that poured from eyes that day."
Now rides our knight through the realms of England with no companion but his foal, and
no one to hold converse with save God alone. From Camelot, in Somersetshire, he
proceeds through Gloucestershire and the adjoining counties into Montgomeryshire, and
thence through North Wales to Holyhead, adjoining the Isle of Anglesea (ll. 670-700),
from which he passes into the very narrow peninsula of Wirral, in Cheshire, where dwelt
but few that loved God or man. Gawayne enquires after the Green Knight of the Green
Chapel, but all the inhabitants declare that they have never seen "any man of such hues of
green."
The knight thence pursues his journey by strange paths, over hill and moor, encountering
on his way not only serpents, wolves, bulls, bears, and boars, but wood satyrs and giants.
But worse than all those, however, was the sharp winter, "when the cold clear water shed
from the clouds, and froze ere it might fall to the earth. Nearly slain with the sleet he slept
in his armour, more nights than enough, in naked rocks" (ll. 701-729).
Thus in peril and plight the knight travels on until Christmas-eve, and to Mary he makes
his moan that she may direct him to some abode. On the morn he arrives at an immense
forest, wondrously wild, surrounded by high hills on every side, where he found hoary
oaks full huge, a hundred together. The hazel and the hawthorn intermingled were all
overgrown with moss, and upon their boughs sat many sad birds that piteously piped for
pain of the cold. Gawayne besought the Lord and Mary to guide him to some habitation
where he might hear mass (ll. 730-762). Scarcely had he crossed himself thrice, when he
perceived a dwelling in the wood set upon a hill. It was the loveliest castle he had ever
beheld. It was pitched on a prairie, with a park all about it, enclosing many a tree for

more than two miles. It shone as the sun through the bright oaks (ll. 763-772).
Gawayne urges on his steed Gringolet, and finds himself at the "chief gate." He called
aloud, and soon there appeared a "porter" on the wall, who demanded his errand.
"Good sir," quoth Gawayne, "wouldst thou go to the high lord of this house, and crave a
lodging for me?"
"Yea, by Peter!" replied the porter, "well I know that thou art welcome to dwell here as
long as thou likest."
The drawbridge is soon let down, and the gates opened wide to receive the knight. Many
noble ones hasten to bid him welcome (ll. 773-825). They take away his helmet, sword,
and shield, and many a proud one presses forward to do him honour. They bring him into
the hall, where a fire was brightly burning upon the hearth. Then the lord of the land[1]
comes from his chamber and welcomes Sir Gawayne, telling him that he is to consider
the place as his own. Our knight is next conducted to a bright bower, where was noble
bedding--curtains of pure silk, with golden hems, and Tarsic tapestries upon the walls and
the floors (ll. 826-859). Here the knight doffed his armour