Sir Gawayne and the Green Knight | Page 9

at thee, then," said the other, and heaves the axe aloft, and looks as
savagely as if he were mad. He aims at the other mightily, but withholds his hand ere it
might hurt. Gawayne readily abides the blow without flinching with any member, and
stood still as a stone or a tree fixed in rocky ground with a hundred roots.
Then merrily the other did speak, "Since now thou hast thy heart whole it behoves me to
strike, so take care of thy neck." Gawayne answers with great wroth, "Thrash on, thou
fierce man, thou threatenest too long; I believe thy own heart fails thee."
"Forsooth," quoth the other, "since thou speakest so boldly, I will no longer delay" (ll.
2273-2304). Then, contracting "both lips and brow," he made ready to strike, and let fall
his axe on the bare neck of Sir Gawayne. "Though he hammered" fiercely, he only
"severed the hide," causing the blood to flow. When Gawayne saw his blood on the snow,
he quickly seized his helmet and placed it on his head. Then he drew out his bright sword,
and thus angrily spoke: "Cease, man, of thy blow, bid me no more. I have received a
stroke in this place without opposition, but if thou givest me any more readily shall I
requite thee, of that be thou sure. Our covenant stipulates one stroke, and therefore now
cease."
The Green Knight, resting on his axe, looks on Sir Gawayne, as bold and fearless he there
stood, and then with a loud voice thus addresses the knight: "Bold knight, be not so wroth,
no man here has wronged thee (ll. 2305-2339); I promised thee a stroke, and thou hast it,
so hold thee well pleased. I could have dealt much worse with thee, and caused thee
much sorrow. Two blows I aimed at thee, for twice thou kissedst my fair wife; but I
struck thee not, because thou restoredst them to me according to agreement. At the third
time thou failedst, and therefore I have given thee that tap. That woven girdle, given thee
by my own wife, belongs to me. I know well thy kisses, thy conduct also, and the wooing
of my wife, for I wrought it myself. I sent her to try thee, and truly methinks thou art the

most faultless man that ever on foot went. Still, sir, thou wert wanting in good faith; but
as it proceeded from no immorality, thou being only desirous of saving thy life, the less I
blame thee."
Gawayne stood confounded, the blood rushed into his face, and he shrank within himself
for very shame. "Cursed," he cried, "be cowardice and covetousness both; in you are
villany and vice, that virtue destroy." Then he takes off the girdle and throws it to the
knight in green, cursing his cowardice and covetousness. The Green Knight, laughing,
thus spoke: "Thou hast confessed so clean, and acknowledged thy faults, that I hold thee
as pure as thou hadst never forfeited since thou wast first born. I give thee, sir, the
gold-hemmed girdle as a token of thy adventure at the Green Chapel. Come now to my
castle, and we shall enjoy together the festivities of the New Year" (ll. 2340-2406).
"Nay, forsooth," quoth the knight, "but for your kindness may God requite you.
Commend me to that courteous one your comely wife, who with her crafts has beguiled
me. But it is no uncommon thing for a man to come to sorrow through women's wiles; for
so was Adam beguiled with one, and Solomon with many. Samson was destroyed by
Delilah, and David suffered much through Bathsheba. 'It were indeed great bliss for a
man to love them well and believe them not.' Since the greatest upon earth were so
beguiled, methinks I should be excused. But God reward you for your girdle, which I will
ever wear in remembrance of my fault, and when pride shall exalt me, a look to this
love-lace shall lessen it (ll. 2407-2438). But since ye are the lord of yonder land, from
whom I have received so much honour, tell me truly your right name, and I shall ask no
more questions."
Quoth the other, "I am called Bernlak de Hautdesert, through might of Morgain la Fay,
who dwells in my house. Much has she learnt of Merlin, who knows all your knights at
home. She brought me to your hall for to essay the prowess of the Round Table. She
wrought this wonder to bereave you of your wits, hoping to have grieved Guenever and
affrighted her to death by means of the man that spoke with his head in his hand before
the high table. She is even thine aunt, Arthur's half sister; wherefore come to thine aunt,
for all