Forgotten Ground Regained

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight by the Pearl Poet

Translated by Paul D. Deane
Sir Gawain and the Green Knight is one of the classics of Middle English literature. Its author is unknown. It is one of the best-known poems of the so-called "Alliterative Revival" of the 14th Century.
Historical Prologue
(1)The siege and assault having ceased at Troyas its blazing battlements blackened to ash,the man who had planned and plotted that treasonhad trial enough for the truest traitor!Then Aeneas the prince and his honored lineplundered provinces and held in their powernearly all the wealth of the western isles.Thus Romulus swiftly arriving at Romesets up that city and in swelling pridegives it his name, the name it now bears;and in Tuscany Tirius raises up towns,and in Lombardy Langoberde settles the land,and far past the French coast Felix Brutusfounds Britain on broad hills, and so bright hopesbegin, where wonders, wars, misfortune and troubled times have been, where bliss and blind confusion have come and gone again.

Table of Contents

Book III (to line 1371)
Book IV (not yet translated)
(2)From the founding of Britain by this brave prince,bold men have bred there, burning for war,stirring up turmoil through the turning years.More wonders in the world have been witnessed herethan anywhere else from that age forward.But of all who were crowned kings over Britainthe most honor was Arthur's, as old tales tell.So I mean to make known a marvel on earth,an astonishing sight, as some men would call it,an extraordinary exploit among Arthur's wonders.Listen to this lay for a little whileand as townsmen tell it, so this tale will tripalong, a story pinned in patterns steadfast, steady, strong: aligned in linking letters as folk have loved so long.
Book I
(3)One Christmas in Camelot King Arthur satat ease with his lords and loyal liegemenarranged as brothers round the Round Table.Their reckless jokes rang about that rich halltill they turned from the table to the tournament fieldand jousted like gentlemen with lances and laughs,then trooped to court in a carolling crowd.For the feast lasted a full fifteen daysof meals and merriment (as much as could fit.)Such gay glee must gladden the ear --by day what a din, and dancing by night!The halls and chambers were heaped with happylords and ladies as high as you like!There they were gathered with all the world's goodness:knights as kind as Christ himself,ladies as lovely as ever have lived,and the noblest king our nation has known.They were yet in the pride, in the prime of their youth,and filled as full of heaven's blessing as the king had strength of will. And mighty men surpassing all were gathered on that hill.
(4)While the year was as young as New Years can bethe dais was prepared for a double feast.The king and his company came in togetherwhen mass had been chanted; and the chapel emptiedas clergy and commons alike cried out,"Noel! Noel!" again and again.And the lords ran around loaded with parcels,palms extended to pass out presents,or crowded together comparing gifts.The ladies laughed when they lost at a game(that the winner was willing, you may well believe!)Round they milled in a merry mob till the meal was ready,washed themselves well, and walked to their places(the best for the best on seats raised above.)Then Guinevere moved gaily among them,took her place on the dais, which was dearly adornedwith sides of fine silk and a canopied ceilingof sheer stuff: and behind her shimmering tapestries from far Tarsus,embroidered, bedecked with bright gemsthat the jewelers would pay a pretty price forany day, but the finest gem in the field of sight looked back: her eyes were grey. That a lovelier's lived to delight the gaze - is a lie, I'd say!
(5)But Arthur would not eat till all were served.He bubbled to the brim with boyish spirits:liked his life light, and loathed the thoughtof lazing for long or sitting still longer.So his young blood boiled and his brain ran wild,and in many ways moved him still moreas a point of honor never to eaton a high holiday till he should have hearda strange story of stirring adventures,of mighty marvels to make the mind wonder,of princes, prowess, or perilous deeds.Or someone might come, seeking a knightto join him in jousting, enjoying the riskof laying their lives on the line like menleaving to fortune the choice of her favor.This was the king's custom at court,the practice he followed at pleasant feasts heldin his hall; therefore with bold face he stood there straight and tall. As New Years proceeded apace he meant to have mirth with them all.
(6)So he stood there stock-still, a king standing tall,talking of courtly trifles before the high table.By Guinevere sat Gawain the Good,and Agravaine of the Heavy Hand on the other side:knights of great worth, and nephews to the king.Baldwin, the bishop, was above, by the head,with Ywain, Urien's son, sitting across.These sat at the dais and were served with due honor;and many mighty men were seated on either side.Then the first course came with a clamor of trumpetswhose banners billowed bright to the eye,while kettledrums rolled and the cry of the pipeswakened a wild, warbling musicwhose touch made the heart tremble and skip.Delicious dishes were rushed in, fine delicaciesfresh and plentiful, piled so high on so many plattersthey had problems finding places to set downtheir silver bowls of steaming soup: no spotwas clear. Each lord dug in with pleasure, and grabbed at what lay near: twelve platters piled past measure, bright wine, and foaming beer.
(7)I need say no more how they served the food,for what fool would fancy their feast was a famine?But a new noise announced itself quickly enoughto grant the high lord leave to have dinner.The music had finished but a moment before,the first course just served, and set before the court,when a horrible horseman hurtled through the doors,his body as brawny as any can be,so bull-necked, big-thighed, bulky and square,so long-legged, large-limbed, looming so tallI can hardly tell if he were half troll,or merely as large as living man can be --a handsome one too; as hearty a hulk as ever rode horse.His back and chest were broad as a barrel,but he slimmed at the waist, with a slender stomach,and his face was well formed, with features sharpand clean -- Men sat there gaping, gasping at his strange, unearthly sheen, as if a ghost were passing, for every inch was green.
(8)He was got up in green from head to heel:a tunic worn tight, tucked to his ribs;and a rich cloak cast over it, covered insidewith a fine fur lining, fitted and sewnwith ermine trim that stood out in contrastfrom his hair where his hood lay folded flat;and handsome hose of the same green huewhich clung to his calves, with clustered spursof bright gold; beneath them striped embroidered silkabove his bare shanks, for he rode shoeless.His clothes were all kindled with a clear light like emeralds:His belt buckles sparkled, and bright stones were setin rich rows arranged up and downhimself and his saddle. Worked in the silkwere too many trifles to tell the half of:embroidered birds, butterflies, and other thingsin a gaudy glory of green and inlaid gold.And the bit and bridle, the breastplate on the horse,and all its tackle were trimmed with green enamel,even the saddlestraps, the stirrups on which he stood,and the bows of his saddle with its billowing skirtswhich glimmered and glinted with green jewels.The stallion that bore him was the best of its breedit was plain, a green horse great and strong, that sidled, danced and strained, but the bridle-braid led it along, turning as it was trained.
(9)He was a fine fellow fitted in green --And the hair on his head and his horse's matched.It fanned out freely enfolding his shoulders,and his beard hung below as big as a bush,all mixed with the marvelous mane on his head,which was cut off in curls cascading to his elbows,wrapping round the rest of himlike a king's cape clasped to his neck.And the mane of his mount was much the same,but curled up and combed in crisp knots,in braids of bright gold thread and brilliant greencriss-crossed hair by hair.And the tossing tail was twin to the mane,for both were bound with bright green ribbons,strung to the end with long strands of precious stones,and turned back tight in a twisted knotbright with tinkling bells of burnished gold.No such horse on hoof had been seen in that hall,nor horseman half so strange as their eyes now heldin sight. He looked a lightning flash, they say: he seemed so bright; and who would dare to clash in melee with such might?
(10)Yet he had on no hauberk, nor a helmet for his head,neither neck-guard nor breastplate to break heavy blows,neither shaft nor shield for the shock of combat.But he held in one hand a sprig of hollythat bursts out greenest when branches are bare;and his other hand hefted a huge and awful ax,a broad battleax with a bit to tell (take it who can)with a large head four feet long:the green steel down the grain etched with gold,its broad edge burnished and bright,shaped razor-sharp to sheer through steel,and held high on a heavy staffwhich was bound at the base with iron bandsgracefully engraved in bright green patterns.A strap was strung through the steel head, runningloop after loop down the length of the handle,which was tied with tassels in abundance, attachingby rich braids onto bright green buttons.This rider reined in as he rode through the doorsdirect to the high dais without a word,giving no greeting, gazing down on them all.His first word came when he stopped. "Where," he said,"is the master of these men? I've a mind to seehis face and would fancy a chat with the fellow who wearsthe crown." To each lord he turned and glancing up and down he fixed each face to learn which knight held most renown.
(11)They stared at the stranger, stunned, a very long time.For each man wondered what it might meanthat man and mount both shone a shadeas green as the grass, and greener eventhan green enamel glows when gold makes it brighter.All eyes were on him, and some edged closer,wondering what in the world he would do.They had seen enough strange sights to know how seldom they are real;therefore they feared him for a phantom, a sending from the Unseen Realm.So of all those noble knights, none dared answerbut sat there stupefied by the strength of his voice.A silence fell filling that rich hall as if they'd all faintedor suddenly slept: their voices just vanishedat their height. Some, I suppose, weren't floored, but chose to be polite, letting their leader and lord be first to address that knight.
(12)Arthur stood watching adventure advanceand answered quickly as honor bid, neither awed nor afraid,saying, "Wanderer, know you are welcome here.dismount, if you may; make merry as you wish,and we may learn in a little while what you would like.""So help me God who sits on high," he said, "No.""It is not my purpose to pass any time in this place.But I have been told that your reputation towers to heaven:that your court and castle are accounted the finest,your knights and their steeds as the sturdiest in steel,the best, the boldest, the bravest on earth,and as fitting foes in any fine sport.True knighthood is known here, or so the tale runs,which is why I have come calling today.You may be sure by this branch that I bearthat I come in peace, with no plans for battle.I have a hauberk at home, and a helmet too,and other weapons I know well how to wield.Yet as war is not my wish I am wearing soft silk,but, if you are as bold as men believe you to be,you will be glad to grant me the game that is mineby right." Then Arthur said, "I swear," "most courteous, noble knight, if you'd like to battle bare, you'll not fail to find a fight."
(13)"Never fear," he said, "I'm not fishing for a fightwith the beardless children on the benches all about.If I were strapped on steel on a sturdy horseno man here has might to match me.No, I have come to this court for a bit of Christmas funfitting for Yuletide and New Years with such a fine crowd.Who here in this house thinks he has what it takes,has bold blood and a brash head,and dares to stand his ground, giving stroke for stroke?Here! I shall give him this gilded blade as my gift;this heavy ax shall be his, to handle as he likes.and I shall stand here bare of armor, and brave the first blow.If anyone's tough enough to try out my game,let him come here quickly and claim his weapon!I give up all rights; he will get it for keeps.I'll stand like a tree trunk -- he can strike at me once,if you'll grant me the right to give as good as I getin play. But later is soon enough, a full year and a day. Get up, if you think you're rough, let's see what you dare to say!"
(14)If at first he'd stunned them, now they sat stone-still:the whole hall, both high and low.The mounted man moved in his saddle,glared a red glance grimly about,arched his bushy brows, all brilliant and green,his beard waving as he waited for one man to rise,to call or came forward. He coughed loudly,stretched slowly, and straightened to speak."Hah! They call this King Arthur's house,a living legend in land after land?Where have your pride and your power gone,your bragging boasts, your big words?The glories and triumphs of the Round Tablehave toppled at the touch of one man's words!What? Fainting with fear, when no fight is offered?"He let out a laugh so loud that Arthur wincedwith shame; the blood shot to his flushed faceand churned with rage and raised a storm until their hearts all burned. All king in face and form, he reached that rider, turned,
(15)and said, "Look here, by heaven! Have you lost your mind?If you want to be mad, I'll bid you welcome!No one I know is bowled over by your big words,so help me God! Hand me that ax --I will grant you the gift you beg me to give!"He leaped lightly up and lifted it from his hand.Then the man dismounted, moving proudly,while Arthur held the ax, both hands on the haft,hefted it sternly, considered his stroke.That burly man bulked big and tall,a head higher than anyone in the house.He stood there hard-faced, stroking his beard,impassively watching as he pulled off his coat,no more moved or dismayed by his mighty swingsthan anybody would be if somebody brought him a bottleof wine. Gawain, sitting by the queen, could tell the king his mind: "Lord, hear well what I mean, and let this match be mine."
(16)"Grant leave, good lord," Gawain told the king,"to stir from my seat and stand by your side;that I might rise from this table without rudeness,without fear of offending your fair queen,and come before your court as a counselor should.It is plainly improper, as people know well,to point this proposal at the prince himself.Though you may be eager to act for yourself,there are so many bold knights on the benches all about,none more masterful in mind maybe than move move under heaven,nor many built better for the field of battle.Of all your men of war I am the weakest and least wise,and my life little enough to lose, if you look at it clearly.My only honor is that you are my uncle;my only boast, that my body carries your blood.Since this whole matter is a mockery, it is not meant for you;and I am first on the field: let this folly be mine.let the court judge if my claim is uncalled-for ; I will bearthe blame." They huddled hushed around and all advised the same: respect the royal crown, and give Gawain the game.
(17)Then the king commanded him to rise and come forward,and he stood quickly, walked with stately stepsto kneel before the king and claim his weapon.Arthur handed it over and held up his handto give him God's blessing. With a glad smilehe charged him to be hardy in heart."Cousin, careful," he said, "cut him but once.and if you teach him truly, I trust you will findyou can bear the blow that he brings you later."Gawain went to the warrior, weapon in hand,not the least bit bashful, as bold as can be.Then the Green Knight said to Gawain,"We should go over our agreement before we begin.First, knight, I would know your name,told truly as one I can trust.""My name is Gawain," he said, "I give it in good faith,as I will give you a blow and bear what comes after.At this time in twelve months I will take a blow backfrom what weapon you wish, but from no other knightalive." The other answering spoke, "Sir Gawain: good! I derive great pleasure from the stroke your hardy hands will drive."
(18)"Gad!" the Green Knight said. "Sir Gawain, I'm gladthat your fist will fetch me the fun I hoped for!You've quickly retold in trustworthy wordsa correct account of the contract I asked of the king,though I must make one stipulation: let it stand as your oaththat you will seek me out, and search whereveryou feel I may be found to fetch back the wagesI am paid today before this proud court.""Where should I look?" Gawain asked, "Where do you live?""By Him that made me, your house is not known to me,neither do I know you, knight, nor your court nor your name.But teach me truly, tell me where to find youand I shall work my wits out to win my way there.I give my plain promise; I pledge you my word.""That is enough for a New Year's pledge; you need say no more,"-- So the green man answered gracious Gawain --"If I'm telling the truth, why, when I've taken your tap,and you've lopped me lovingly, you'll learn at onceof my house and my home and how I am named.Then you can try my hospitality and be true to our compact.Or I'll have no words to waste, which would be well for you:you'd relax in this land, and not look for me further.But stop! Take the grim tool you need, and show me how to chop." "Gladly, sir," he said, "Indeed," and gave the ax a strop.
(19)The green knight got ready, feet firm on the ground;leaned his head a little to let the cheek show,and raised the rich riot of his hairso the nape of his neck was naked and exposed.Gawain held the ax high overhead,his left foot set before him on the floor,swung swiftly at the soft fleshso the bit of the blade broke through the bones,crashed through the clear fat and cut it in two,and the brightly burnished edge bit into the earth.The handsome head fell, hit the ground,and rolled forward; they fended it off with their feet.The red blood burst bright from the green body,yet the fellow neither faltered nor fellbut stepped strongly out on sturdy thighs,reached roughly right through their legs,grabbed his graceful head and lifted it from the ground,ran to his horse, caught hold of the reins,stepped in the stirrup, strode into the saddle,the head dangling by the hair from his hand,and seated himself as firmly in the saddleas if he were unhurt, though he sat on his horse withouta head. He swiveled his bulk about; the ugly stump still bled. They gaped in fear and doubt because of the words he said.
(20) For he held the head up evenly in his hand,turned the face toward the top of the high table,and the eyelids lifted and looked on them allwhile the mouth moved, making these words:"Gawain, get ready to go as you have promised,Seek me out, sir; search till you find meas sworn here in this hall where all these knights heard.I charge you, come as you chose to the Green Chapel to getas good as you gave -- you've got it comingand will be paid promptly when another year has passed.Many men know me as the Knight of the Green Chapel,so search faithfully and you'll not fail to find me.Come, or be called a faithless coward!"He roared like a raging bull, turned the reins,and drove for the door, still dangling the head,while fire flashed from the horse's feet as if its hooves were flints.Where he went no one knew,nor could they name the country he came from nor his kin.What then? The king and Gawain grinned and laughed at the Green Knight when they knew full well it had been a portent to their men.
(21)Though High King Arthur's heart was heavy with wonderhe showed no sign of it, but said aloudwith a king's courtesy to his lovely queen:"Beloved lady, don't let this dismay you.Such games as these are good at Christmas:Laughter, song, light interludes,and choruses of carols sung by the whole court.But truly, I can turn now to my table and feast;for by my word! I have witnessed a wonder."He turned to Sir Gawain and tactfully said,"Hang up your ax; it has cut all it can."It was attached to a tapestry above the high tablefor all men to marvel on who might see it there,as a true token of a tale of wonder.Then they sat in their seats to resume their feast,Gawain and the king together, while good men served themthe rarest, dearest delicacies in double portions,with whole batteries of the best foods, and the singing of bards.The day finished, and their feast was filled with joyand zest. Sir Gawain, have a care to keep your courage for the test, and do the deed you've dared. You've begun: now brave the rest
Book II
(22)This gift of adventure is what Arthur gotto bring in the year with the boasts he liked best.Yet they said little, but sat, took their seats,gorged with grim business heaped in their hands.Gawain was glad when those games began,but no one should wonder at the weighty ending.Men's minds may grow merry when their drinks are mighty,but a year paces past in unforeseen patterns:The model seldom matches what is made.So Yule raced by, and the year ran after,each season passing in set sequence.After Christmas comes the discomfort of Lent,which tries the flesh with fish and simple food.But then the world's weather wrestles with winter:cold clings to the ground, but clouds rise,releasing warm rain; rinsing showersfall to the flat earth; flowers appear,both field and forest are fringed with green.Birds busy themselves building, and with brilliant songcelebrate summer, for soon each slopewill rush to bloom with blossoms set in lines luxuriant and lush, while noble notes form nets that fill the forest hush.
(23)Then the summer season when the west breeze blowsand soft winds sigh on seed and stem.How the green things glory in their urgent growthwhen the dripping dew drops from the leaves,waiting for the warm sun's welcome glance.But then Fall flies in, and fills their hearts,Bidding them be rich, ripe, and ready for winter.The autumn drought drives up dustthat billows in clouds above the broad earth.Wild winds whistle, wrestling the sun;Leaves launch from each limb and land on the soil,while the green grass fades to grey.What rose at the first now ripens and rotstill the year has gathered its full yield of yesterdays.In the way of the world, winter windsAround til the Michaelmas moon brings frost to touch the ground. When Gawain remembers all too soon that he is duty bound.
(24)Yet he lingered with Arthur past All Saints Evewho set up a feast to send his knight offwith revelry rich as the Round Table offered.Yet lordly knights and lovely ladiesgazing at Gawain anxious with grief let nothing but laughter pass through their lips.They made themselves merry for one man's sake.Sad after supper he sought out his uncle,spoke of his quest, and clearly proclaimed:"My life's own liege lord, I ask now your leave.What this matter means, and how much it costsyou know well enough: nothing worth words.But soon after dawn I must search out onslaughtand meet the green man: may God be my guide."Then the highest in that hall hastened together,Iwain, and Erric, and many another –Sir Dodinel de Sauvage, the Duke of Clarence,Lancelot, and Lyonel, and Lucan the Good,Sir Bors and Sir Bedivere (big men both)And many proud lords, with Mador de la Port.Thus the court collected and came near the kingto offer advice with anguished hearts.So much secret sorrow swept through that hallthat one so good as Gawain must go forth doomedto bear the brunt of a blow and let his own bladerest. But Gawain said with cheerful face: "Why shrink back from the quest? Though fate bring glory or disgrace A man must meet the test."
(25)He rested till morning then rose to get ready,asked early for his armor and they brought it all out,arranging each piece on a rich, red rugwhere the gear all glittered like a gallery of gold.The strong knight stood there to take up his steel,dearly dressed in a doublet of silkand a hooded cloak cunningly madewith a lining of ermine layered inside.His feet were fitted in fine steel shoes,and his legs were sheathed in shining greaveswith kneeguards above them, burnished brightand tied to his knees with tassels of gold --Then cuisse-plates whose clever curves enclosedhis thick, hard thighs, and were bound there with thongs;while the mesh of his mail-shirt with its rings of bright metalrichly quilted, wrapped him round,and well-burnished braces on both of his arms,gallant elbow-gear and gauntlets of steel,and all the finest, fairest stuff to fit himfor his ride a surcoat richly made, his gold spurs worn with pride, girt with a glistening blade, a silk sash round his side.
(26)When he got it all on his gear was splendid:each loop and latch-hook lustrous with gold.He left as he was, then listened to massoffered in honor before the high altar,came to the king and his court companions,took loving leave of lords and ladiesin a crowd of kisses and hopes for Christ's care.Gringolet was groomed and ready to go,his gleaming saddle gaily fringed with goldnewly nailed there for this matter of note.His striped bridle was bound with bright gold.The pattern of the harness and the proud skirts,of saddle-bow, caparison, crupper were all the same:red arrayed with rich gold studsthat glinted and glittered like the glance of the sun.Then he held up his helm and kissed it in haste:It was stiffened with staples, padded with stuffing,Sat high on his head, and buckled behindwhere the neck-guard was graced with gleaming silkbedecked and embroidered with the best gems.There were birds on the seams of the broad silk bands:painted parrots on a field of periwinkles,turtledoves entwined with truelove blooms too thickto be sewn by many women in seven winters'care. Yet nothing half so dear brought color anywhere as the circlet's bright and clear diamonds in his hair.
(27)When they brought him his shield, it was bright red gules,painted with a pentacle of purest gold.Holding the baldric, he hung it from his neck,and the sign thus set suited him well.Why the pentacle is proper to that noble princeI must let you know, though I linger in the telling.It is a sign that Solomon set long agoto signify truth by a trustworthy token.It is a figure with five fine pointsand each line overlaps and locks with the others,everywhere endless: the English, I hear,most often call it the Endless Knot.And so it fits this knight with his flashing armor,who was faithful five ways and five times each.All knew Gawain to be good as purified gold:devoid of villainy, his virtues were a court'sdelight. Thus he wore the five-point star on shield and surcoat in plain sight, his honor without stain or scar, a gentle, low-voiced knight.
(28)First, he was found faultless in his five senses,and his five fingers never failed him in any deed,and all his faith in this world was in the five woundsthat Christ carried on the cross, as the Creed informs us.No matter where he moved in melee or in battleit was his fervent thought through thick or thinthat when he fought his courage came from the five joysthe high Queen of Heaven had of her child.(And so the noble knight would never wear his shieldtill her image had been painted on the inner half;for when he saw her face his courage never failed.)And a fifth five was found in Gawain:bounty and brotherhood above all else;courtesy and a clean heart (these were never crooked)and the finest point, compassion -- these five virtuesmarked him more than any man alive.Now all these five fives were fastened round this knightand each embraced the others in unbroken patternand met in five fixed points that never failed,nor bunched together, nor split in pieces,but ran on endlessly at every point --where the figure failed, it found new beginnings.Therefore the shield shone with the knot thus shaped,gold royally arranged against red gules --the noble pentacle as it is known by menof lore. Now ready to go his way, he lifted his lance as if for war, gave them all good day -- and left them there forevermore.
(29)He set spurs to his steed and sprang on his wayso swiftly the sparks sprayed out behind him.All that saw him so splendid sighed deep withinand whispered soft words one to anotherin compassion for that prince: "By Christ, what a pity,to lose such a leader, wh ose life is so noble!There is hardly his equal anywhere on earth!A wary approach would have been wiser;better to have made such a man a duke --such a brilliant leader; the best in the land.Better by far than this foolish waste,beheaded by an elf, and all for arrogant pride!What kind of king would take such counselwhen his courtiers quarrel over Christmas games?How the warm tears welled till all their eyes were wetwhen that handsome lord left his home behindthat day, nor lingered on his road, but swiftly found his way. Through pathless realms he rode -- so I heard the annal say.
(30)So this rider rode through the realm of Britain,Sir Gawain in God's service: and to him it was no game.He would lie down alone with no one to lead,nor find before him any food that he liked,Nor any help but his horse over hill and wood,Nor any man but his Maker to make conversation --till he neared the neighborhood of North Wales,held all the isles of Anglesey on his leftand reached the river where its headlands rosehigh near Holyhead, and held on acrossthrough the Forest of Wirral. Few or none lived therewhom God could love, or a good-hearted man.And he asked often, of all whom he metif they could give him news of a green knightor how he could get to the Green Chapel.And they all said no, never in their liveshad they seen someone who was such a shadeas green. The paths he would take were strange, with little cheer to glean, and his hopes would often change till that chapel could be seen.
(31)He climbed past cliffs in unknown country,a stranger faring far from his home.At each stream and ford that he found in those landsenemies lurked (unless his luck held) --vicious, violent, hard to avoid.In those mountains he met so many strange wondersa tenth of the total could hardly be told.He dared to fight dragons and warred with wolves,or lurking woses, living wild on the crags,or with bulls, or bears, or boars on occasion,and trolls that hunted him across the high hills.Only constant courage and the care of his Godcould save him sometimes from certain death.For if warfare was hard, winter was worse,when the clouds shed water cold and clearwhich froze in the air and fell as sleet.He lay down half-dead, drenched in his armor,too many times to bear: and on barren stonewhere cold-running creeks came clattering downand icecicles hardened high overhead.Thus with peril and pain, in difficult plight,he carried on alone till the Eve of Christmasfell. Then lifting head he cried: "Good Mary, hear me well -- and grant me grace to ride to realms where people dwell."
(32)With sunrise his heart rose as he rode from the highlandsdeep into woodland wild past belief.There the high hills hemmed in a forestof huge and hoary oaks -- hundreds together;and heavy hazel and hawthorn thicketswith rags of rough moss wrapped round each limb --while on the bare branches the huddled birdswere perched, piping pitifully in the cold.Gawain passed them on Gringolet, going onthrough marsh and mire, a man all aloneand worried. He wondered what he could doto celebrate our Savior's service on the very nighthe was born of a virgin to bear our sorrows.And therefore sighing he said, "I beseech thee, Lordand Mary, the mildest, dearest of mothers:Help me to some haven where mass can be heard,and matins tomorrow. I ask this meekly,and in token now pray my Pater, my Ave,my Creed. He continued on his way, confessing his misdeeds, and crossed himself to pray, "Christ's cross now grant me speed!"
(33)He had signed himself scarcely three timeswhen he made out a moat and a mound in the wood --a low hill with a lawn, through a lacework of branchesthat grew from great oaks guarding a dike.He had found there a castle fit for a lord,placed in the open, a park all around it,with bristling stakes in a strong stockadethat turned for two miles round groves of trees.Sir Gawain saw one whole side of that strongholdas it shimmered and shone through the shaking leaves.He held his helm, with head bowed in thanksto Jesus and Saint Julian, whose gentle gracehad cared for his needs and come to his aid."Safe lodging," he called, "I beseech of you yet!"Then he goaded Gringolet with gilded heelsand choosing the chief roadway by sheer chancehe came quickly to the causeway's endat last to drawbridge lifted tight to gateway shuttered fast. Such walls in granite might would shrug off wind or blast.
(34)He held back his horse where the bank haltedin a deep double ditch close dug to the wall,which plunged in the pool impossibly deep --and then its full, huge height heaved itself upin tiers of tough stone straight to the top,its battlements built in the best style,its guard-towers rising in graceful rowslined with loopholes covered and latched:a barbican better than the best he knew.He noticed behind it a high-roofed halltucked among towers, from whose clustered tipsbuttresses sprang, and pinnacled spirescunningly carved, and crafted with skill.Chalk-white chimneys were checkered aboutlike radiance rising from rooftops and towers.So many painted pinnacles stood round that placeor climbed from the castle's crenellated wallsthat it seemed like a cutout clipped from paper.As he sat there in saddle, it seemed very fineif only he could enter the innermost court,and win welcome there to worship in a houseso blessed. A porter came at call, more gracous than the best, who stood upon the wall and hailed that knight on quest.
(35)"Good sir," said Gawain, "please grant me the favor(if your lord allows) to lodge in this house.""By Peter," said the porter, "be perfectly surethat you, Lord, are welcome as long as you like!"Then swift-paced the porter moved to approach him,and others came with him to welcome their guest.They dropped the great drawbridge, then drawing near proudly,they bowed, their knees bent upon the bare earthto one whom they welcomed as worthy of honor.They granted him passage; the portals swung wide;he called them to rise, and crossed the great bridge.Men steadied his saddle: he slipped off his horseand sturdy men came to lead it to stable.Knights and their squires were the next to come,delighted to lead the lord to the hall.Hardly had he lifted his helm when many handswere swift to receive it in courteous service --and in the same way his sword was set by his shield.He nobly acknowledged each of those knights,proud men close-pressed to honor a prince.Still strapped in bright steel, he strode to the hallwhere a bonfire burned bright on the hearth.Then the lord himself descended to see him,moving to meet him with exquisite manners."You are welcome," he said, "to what this house holds,""everything is yours to use as you pleasein this place." "God bless you," said Gawain then, "And Christ repay your grace." They met like joyful men in open-armed embrace.
(36)Gazing on one who greeted him so well,Gawain felt that fortress had a fine lord:a man in his prime, massively made;his beard all beaver-brown, glossy and broad;stern, stalwart in stance on his sturdy thighs,his face bold as fire, a fair-spoken man --who certainly seemed well-suited, he judged,to rule there as master of excellent men.The lord led him in, and ordered at oncethat someone be sent to serve in his chamber.Then the household staff hurried to obeyand brought him to a bedroom, brightly arrangedwith gold-trimmed curtains of the clearest silkand fine-crafted coverlets, beautiful quiltswith bright fur above and embroidered edges.There were rings of red gold on rope-drawn drapes,tight-hung tapestries from Tarsus and Tolouse;and similar fabrics were set underfoot.As they talked with him gaily, they took off his garments,removing his byrnie and his bright armor.Then rich robes were brought as the servants rushed ina choice from the best to change for his own.As soon as he picked one and pulled it in place,a fine-fitting kilt with swirling folds,it seemed to them all that suddenly lightshone round his shape in the shades of spring,beautiful, bright about all his limbs.Christ never had such a handsome knight,they thought: Wherever men appear, surely Gawain ought to reign without a peer in fields where fierce men fought.
(37)Before the chimney where charcoal glowed a chairlined with fine fabric was found for Sir Gawain,sumptuous with cushions on a quilted seat.And then a rich robe was thrown around himof brilliant, gaily embroidered silkfilled out with fur: the finest of pelts,and every bit ermine, even the hood.Thus he sat, relaxed and in lavish splendor,till he felt far better in the fire's warmth.Then they took a table, laid it on trestles,and covered it with clean and clear white cloth,saltcellars, napkins, and a silver service.He washed as he wished and went to his meal.Then the table was set in suitable stylewith soups of all kinds, seasoned superblyin double-sized servings; plus assorted fish,some breaded and baked, some broiled on the coals,some simmered, some set in savory stews;each subtly spiced with sauces that pleased him.Exclaiming he kept on calling it a feast,but all of them answered with equal courtesyand said, "Take penance while you can; tomorrow you'll be fed!" He made a merry man -- the wine went to his head.
(38)Then queries and questions carefully framedon private matters were put to that prince.So he spoke of his court, in courteous words,as that which highborn Arthur held as his own,who ruled the Round Table as its regal king --and their guest, he told them, was Gawain himself,come to them at Christmas as his course unfolded.On learning whom luck had brought him the lordlaughed out loud for sheer heart's delight.Within that moat every man was eager to move,and pressed forward promptly to enter the presenceof "that paragon of prowess and of perfect manners,whose virtues and person are constantly praised:of all men on earth most worthy of honor!"Each man of them, murmuring, remarked to his fellows,"Now we shall see courtesy cleverly displayedamong faultless feats of fine conversation!We will learn untaught how to talk noblywhen we face such a fine father of breeding!God has graced us indeed, with a grand blessing,to grant us the guest that Gawain will makewhen we sit and sing glad songs of Christ'snew birth. The meaning of his mannered ways will show what words are worth -- and teach us terms to play the game of lovers' mirth."
(39)When the dinner was done, and their darling rose,it was nearly dark, for night was approaching.The chapels were opened as the chaplains camewith bells ringing richly, right as they shouldfor vesper devotions on the verge of Christmas.The lord now led the way, his lady beside him;she paced along prettily and entered her pew.When Gawain came gliding in with a glad heart,the lord latched on to him and led him to his seat,glad-handing Gawain, greeting him by name,and said he was the most welcome guest in the world.After hearty hugs and heartfelt thanks,they sat soberly together till the service ended.As the lady had been longing to look on the knight,she emerged to meet him, her maidens about her.In form she was fairest: in figure and face,complexion, comportment surpassing all others,and to Gawain not even Guinevere could equal her grace.She steered through the chancel to strengthen his welcome.Another lady led her by the left handwho was obviously older: an elderly matronwhom the household held in the highest honor.But in looks the two ladies were obviously unlike:one active and young, one yellow with age.On the first a flush rose, ruddy and fair;on the other, rough wrinkles on rugged cheeks. On the first one, clear pearls displayed on a kerchiefshone from her breast and her bare throatwhiter than snow on the winter hills.The other one's kerchief covered her neck,and bright veils billowed round her black chin,while silk framed her forehead, which was fretted roundwith lacework linked in delicate loops.Nothing was bare about her but her black brows,over eyes and nose over naked lips,and those made a sorry sight, bleary and sour.She was, God knows! A lady of graceand pride -- but her body was short and thick; her buttocks big and wide. A tastier plum to pick was the beauty by her side.
(40)Meeting her gracious, light-hearted gazehe took the lord's leave and approached the ladies.He greeted the elder with a grand bow,and wrapping the lovelier in a light embrace,he planted a pretty kiss with extravagant praise.They offered their acquaintance, and he asked at onceto be their faithful servant if it seemed fitting.They took him between them and led him off, talking,to a chimneyed chamber; and they charged the servantsto speed out for spices, and not to be sparing,but to bring back each time the best of the wine.The lord kept leaping about in delight,bid them make merry as much as they could,then hauled off his hood and hung it on a spear,urging them to earn it as a signal honorfor the merriest man among them that Christmas."By my word! I shall work to win with the restagainst all this company, to keep it myself!"Thus the lord made it lively with laughter and jokesto gladden Sir Gawain with the joy that gamesincite. Time passed; the twilight fled; the servants kindled light. Then Gawain sought his bed, and bade them all good night.
(41)In the morning when men remember the birthof our dear Lord to die for our destiny's sake,all men on earth grow merry at heart.So it was that delicacies filled out their day:At breakfast and banquet the best of the foodwas spread out in splendor by spirited men.The old, ancient woman had honor of place,with the lord, I believe, politely beside her.Gawain and the gracious lady were both given seatsin the middle, where the meal was measured out first,and afterward to everyone all through the hall,served in due sequence, as it seemed proper.They had food, they had fun, they were filled with joy:too much for tongue to tell of with ease,and a struggle, at least, to state it in full.But this I give you: that Gawain and the gracious ladywere perfect companions in their place together,and such pleasantries passed in their private speech(which was fine and fair; also free from sin)that no princely sport could possibly surpasstheir game. Then trumpets, drums to measure tunes that pipes proclaim: as each man took his pleasure, and those two did the same.
(42)One fun-filled day followed another,with a third day thrust into the thick of it.Saint John's day was generous with jubilant song:the last day like it left to them there.The guests would be going in the grey morning,so they were up to all hours over their wine,kept calling for dances and caroling round,and left their leavetaking till late in the nightthat would soon send them off by separate ways.'Good day,' began Gawain, but grabbing him his hostpulled him aside privately by a pleasant fire,laid it on at length and lavishly thanked himfor granting him such grace and gladness of heartas to honor his house on this high seasonand fill up his fortress with the finest manners.'As long as I live, sir, my life will be betterto have had Gawain as my guest at God's own feast.''God help me,' said Gawain, 'may He grant you better:for any such honor is only your due.I am simply your servant, one who seeks to please you,oath-bound to honor all men, be they highor low.' And though the lord takes pains to urge him not to go, Sir Gawain still explains his answer must be no.
(43)"But Gawain," that good man graciously asked,"Has some dark deed driven you forth,that you rushed from the royal court? Must you now ride alonewhen holiday feasts are not wholly done?""Sir," he responded, "you have spoken truly:,"I had to depart on a high and a hasty matter.For I myself am summoned to seek out a place,though I wonder where in the world to find it.I'd not fail to near it by New Year's morningfor all the land in Britain -- by the love of God!I have come with questions that require answers --so tell me the truth: has any tale reached youof the Green Chapel, or on what ground it stands,or about its guardian, a green-skinned knight?For I have set myself, by most solemn pledge,to meet this man, though it may go hard.But now the New Year is nearly complete,and if the Lord allows it, I'll look upon himmore gladly -- by God's Son! -- than on any good thing.Therefore sir, as you see, I must set out nowfor I doubt that three days will do for this businessand I'd far rather die than be doomed to fail."Then the lord answered, laughing, "You must linger now!""You will get to your goal in good enough time,and can give up guessing on what ground it lies,and can lie abed as late as you wish,and finally set forth the first of the year,yet make it there with morning still mostly leftthat day -- spend till New Years as you please, then rise and ride that way; We'll guide you there with ease -- it's not two miles away."
(44)Then gaiety filled Gawain, and he gladly laughed."I must earnestly offer my uttermost thanks!With my goal at hand, I can grant your wish,dwell here a while, and do as you bid me.""Sit down," said his host, seizing his arm."Come, let's delight in the ladies' presence!"Thus they made a pleasant party apart by themselves.The lord let out laughs as loud and as merryas a madman, maybe, whose mind was far gone.He called to his company, crying aloud,"You have sworn to serve me however seems best;will you act to honor this oath here and now?""Certainly, sir," he said in reply."While your walls ward me your will is supreme."He returned: "You are tired, and have traveled far.We all have been wakeful, nor are you well-rested,nor fed quite as fully, I fear, as should be.You must lie in late, and lounge at your easepast morning mass, and make it to breakfastwhenever you wish. My wife will eat with youand keep you company till I come again.You stay, but I myself will ride hunting at break of day." Then Gawain bowed with pride and promised to obey.
(45)"Look," said the lord - "Let us now bargain:What I get in the wood I will give to you,and charge in exchange whatever chance may deal you.Friend, here's how to do it: we'll hold to our wordregardless who gains or gives up the most.""By God!" Gawain answered, "I grant what you ask;just give me the game -- I will gladly play it!""Then let's down this drink, and our deal is made!"said the lord of that land, and they laughed together.So these lords and ladies relaxed as they drankand played gallant games while it gave them pleasure.Then in French fashion, with many fine words,they made their excuses with murmured farewells,and pretty pecks planted on either cheek.Then bright burning torches were born by the servantswho led them at last to lie down softlyin bed. Before they reached the door, what promises they said! And how that country's lord made fun times fly ahead!
(46)
A crowd stirred early at the crack of dawn.The guests who were going had their grooms at work,and they set about swiftly saddling the horses,strapping up gear and stowing their bags.The richly dressed riders were ready to travel,swinging into saddles, snatching up reins,each man of them heading where he meant to go.The beloved lord of that land was not last among thembut came ready to ride with riders about him.He had a hasty meal when he had heard mass,and hurried with horn-call to the hunting fields.Before the light of day illumined the earthboth master and men had mounted their steeds.Then the hunters who knew how leashed their hounds in pairs,cast open the kennel door and called them outsideand blew three long blasts on their blaring horns.Then the beagles burst out and kept baying fiercelywhile they curbed and kept them from casting for scents.I hear there were a hundred hunters as cleveras can be. Now huntsmen take their places, and all the hounds run free, as horn-call clamor races swift past brush and tree.
(47)
The first hint of the hunt horrified the forest.Deer darted through clearings, driven by panic,seeking safe haven -- but suddenly they turned,bolting from the hunters who blocked their escape.The harts they let hurry by with their high heads tossing,and the big bucks also, with their broad antlers --for the lord enforced a limited seasonwhen no man might hunt for the male deer.But the hinds were held back with a "Hey there! Whoa!"and the din drove the does to the deep valleys.Then slipping from the string there came down-slanting arrows.As they burst round each bend more bolts found their mark,and the broad heads bit through their brown hides.How they brayed -- how they bled -- and on the banks diedas the pack came pelting pell-mell behind themwhile hunters with upraised horns came hurrying after,blowing blasts so loud they could have burst the cliffs.If any escaped unscathed from the archersthey were stopped and slaughtered at the stations below.As they came harried from the heights and were hunted to the streams,the men who manned those stations were such master huntersand their greyhounds so gigantic, they grabbed them at onceand dispatched them as promptly as people could looktheir way. The lord, his eyes grown bright would spur, dismount or stay -- galloping with great delight right past the end of day.
(48)
While the lord found delight in the linden-wood,that good man Gawain had a grand bedwhere he dozed while daylight dappled the wallsand crept through the counterpanes and curtains about him.As he drifted half-dreaming, a delicate noisesounded softly at the door, which suddenly opened.When he heard this he heaved his head from the sheetsand pulled a corner of the curtain carefully aside,warily wondering what it might be.It was the lady herself, such a lovely sight,who closed the door carefully and quietly behind herand bent toward the bed. Blushing the fellowlay down and lurked there, looking asleep.Taking step after step, she stole to the bed,caught up the curtain and crawling insidesat down beside him with silent motions.A long while she lingered there to look at him waking.The man lay unmoving for more than a while,for his mind was bemused what to make of thisstrange situation. It seemed most amazing.But he said to himself, "It would suit far betterif I let the lady enlighten me herself."Then he straightened and stretched and stirring toward herhe opened his eyes and acted astounded.Then he crossed himself as if he claimed protectionfrom that sight -- her chin and cheeks were sweet, blending red and white; her voice a pleasant treat where small lips smiled delight.
(49)
"Good morning, Sir Gawain!" she gaily exclaimed."You're a sound sleeper! I slipped in unnoticedand you are quite my captive! Unless we come to termsI shall bind you in your bed -- of that be quite certain."Delighted the lady laughed as she teased him."Good morning, gay lady!" answered Gawain blithely."Just decide on my sentence; it will suit me nicely.I'm your prisoner completely, and plead for your mercy.It's my best bet, so I had better take it!"(So he teased her in turn, returning her laughter.)"But at least, lovely lady, allow me one wish:pardon your prisoner, please let him rise;let me be out of bed, in better apparel,and we'll finish chatting in far greater comfort.""Certainly not, good sir," that sweet lady said."You'll not budge from your bed: I have better plans.I shall hold you here -- and that other half also --and get to know the knight I've so neatly trapped.I know enough after all, to know of Sir Gawainwhom all the world worships; every way you rideyour courteous character is acclaimed most noblyby lords and by ladies and all living people.And now you are here, and here we're alone --my lord and his men will be long afield;the servants are sleeping; so are my maidens;I have closed the door, it's securely locked;and since I have in this house he whom all admire,I shall spend my time in speech I am sureto treasure. My person's yours, of course, to see you take your pleasure; I am obliged, perforce, to serve you at your leisure."
(50)
"In good faith," said Gawain, "I would gain too much!Though I am hardly he of whom you are speaking --the honor you outline is obviously morethan what I am worth -- and how well I know it!By God! I'd be glad if it seemed good to youto assign some other service I might doto value and revere you; I'd be very glad.""In good faith, Sir Gawain!" she gaily replied."If I prized the prowess that pleases all othersso little or so lightly, I'd be less than gracious!There is no lack of ladies who'd love so very muchto have one so handsome held as I have you,who'd be so glad to listen as your gracious speechsoftened their sorrows and soothed all their caresthat they would gladly give all the gold they have!But I praise the Prince whose place is in heaventhat I have right here what others hope to seeby grace!" She'd such a cheerful air who seemed to sweet of face, but he with spotless care answered every case.
(51)
"Madam," said that debonair man, "may Mary reward you!"In good faith, I have found you to be fine and noble,but though a person's prowess may be praised by others,the honors they assign are not owed to me.The worthiness is yours, who think well of others.""By Mary!" she remarked. "I must disagree.Were I worth as much as all women living,and all the wealth of the world were where I could spend it, I should hunt very hard and haggle for a lordof such nature as I know that this knight has here --high-minded, hearty, and handsomely formed.As I heard from others and hold to be true,there's no finer fellow to be my first choice.""Fair lady, I find your first choice was better,"he replied, "but I am proud to be prized so highly.I am your sober servant and you my sovereign queen --I have become your knight and may Christ reward you."Thus till mid-morning passed they made conversation;and always she acted as if she adored him;while Gawain was guarded though gracious enough."Were I the loveliest of ladies," the lady surmised,"love can mean little when he has loss so muchin mind -- the blow he must receive, his debt repaid in kind." She asked if she could leave, and he was so inclined.
(52)
Then she gave him good day and glanced at him laughing,and as she stood astonished him with these stunning words."Now may God grant you honor for gracious conversation,but I guess that Gawain's not your given name.""What do you mean?" the man asked at once,afraid he had failed in some form of honor."Bless you," she answered. "I must base my doubton Gawain's known graciousness, his grand reputation.How could the complete paragon of perfect behaviorspend so much time speaking with a ladywithout craving a kiss in courteous fashionby a tactful hint or turn of conversation?""Very well," said Gawain, "your wishes will guide me,I shall kiss when called upon, as becomes a knightwho would not upset you. Say nothing more."At that she came close and clasping her armsbent beautifully down, embraced him and kissed."Now may Christ care for you," they called to each other,and away she went without a word further.But he's ready to rise, and rushes out soon,calls for his chamberlain, chooses his clothing,and thus changed, charges out cheerfully to mass.When he dined that day, delicacies were served him;making merry past moonrise that man gave funfree reign. The world could never hold two finer dames, it's plain, the young one and the old -- those two could entertain.
(53)Meanwhile the lord of the land led the hunt onthrough forest and field to find deer to cull.Before the sun set, he had slain so manydoes and other deer, it dazzles the mind.Bragging, bold hunters brought in their loot,and dragging the deer together, gave the dogs their share.Master and manservant mucked through the pileto find the finest, fattest of corpsesand cut them to cutlets, as the custom dictates.The assayers kept searching, to see what they had,but found two fingers’-breadth of fat on the worst.Then they slit the slot, seized the first stomach, shaved it with a sharp knife, and shut it with cord,then struck off the four limbs, stripped off the hide,and broke open the belly; the bowels they removedcautiously, taking care to keep the knot tight.They got their hands on the gullet, gripped it and pulledthe flesh free of the windpipe and flung out the guts.Then they sheared off the shoulder-blades with their sharp knives,slipping them through a slit to keep the sides whole.Bifurcating the breast, they broke it in halves.Then, beginning at the gullet, one man got to workquickly and carefully, cutting to the thighs,to empty out the avanter and afterward free itfrom the meat where the membranes remained by the ribs.When the back bones were clear, they bent down to cutthe offal from the haunches, which hung all together,then pulled it up in one piece and put it to one side:Know that it is named the “numbles”, as that word isdefined.At the fork of the thighs, they fold the skin behind, then cut it where it lies, the backbone to unbind.
(54)They hacked off head and neck in one heavy blow,broke off the backbone, ripped back the ribs,and flung out the filthy bits as food for the ravens.They thrust a thick hook through either half,and hung them by their hocks high off the groundto give each fellow his fair share when they finished working.They gave their hounds the hide to have as their feast,with the liver and the lungs, the lining of the stomach,and bread bathed in blood, blended with the rest. Horns hailed the hunt and the hounds bayedas they packed up their plunder and paced homeward,while their blaring bugles sounded a brassy tune.Before the light was lost, the whole lot surgedinto the lord’s fine fortress, where he found his guestAlone. Bright bonfires burn and joy full-blown – now it’s Gawain turn To welcome him home.
(55)Then the lord gave orders for them all to gather,summoned matron, mistress, and their maids to join him,commanded the men mustered before himto make the meat ready and march it straight in --then gaily gave Gawain the game he brought home,and recounting his kills – all quick-footed beasts –showed him fine, marbled flesh flayed from their ribs.“Does this prize please you? Are mine praiseworthy deeds?Have I earned accolades for expertise and skill?”“I’ll grant that!” his guest said, “for no greater haulhave I seen in winter’s season for the past seven years!”“And all of it I owe to you, all you shall have,for you have won your wager, and my word is good.”“Agreed!” Gawain answered. “I grant you the same!What my courtesy and courage have caught is yours.The prize I pass on is the pay I won.”Impeccably puckering, he planted a kiss, saying “Here is your haul! I have nothing else.I’d make over more, were it mine to give.”“Why that’s good!” he told Gawain. “I am grateful, you know.Though the business would have been better if you hadn’t been so coyabout where this prize was won and how your wit claimed it.”“That was not how we settled it! I can say no more.You gained what I got, so our game is tiedtoday.” They laugh and show respect with every word they say. Then on to dinner, to select dainties from every tray.
(56)
They sat by hearth in the hall. The servantsdealt out fine drinks; they downed every one,so bent on their bantering that they bet againand recorded the covenant they had kept before:each to give what he got, whether good or bad --everything earned before evening fadedbefore court and courtiers, to make accounts balance.They took one last taste, toasting each otherwith courteous compliments to cap it all off.Parting from their companions, they paced off to bed.Before the cackling cock could crow a third timethe lord and his liege-men leaped out of bed,broke their fast fittingly, and filed off to pray.Before the red sun rose, they went rushing offto chase with whoops and huntsmen’s horns through forest and field apace. Howling among the thorns, hunting dogs led the race.
(57) Soon they were summoned to search through a marsh.Hunters harried the hounds that hit the scent firstwith a Hey! Hoy! Hi! and a hullabulloo.The other hounds heard and hastened to join them,a fine set of forty fierce for the chase.Such babel, such bedlam! From the baying dogsthere rose a racket that rang from the hills.The hunt kept them hustling, by horn or by mouth,till the savage assembly swept in a packbetween a bog in the bottomlands and a broken crag.On a bank, by a bluff where the bog endedand rough rocks clustered in a reckless sprawlthey broke forward barking; and brave men followed.They surrounded the ridge and the rocky ground,certain it concealed what they sought to find,the beast that the bloodhounds’ baying marked.Then they beat the bushes and bid him come forth,and he rushed their ranks, risking it all –a breathtaking boar, breaking from cover,an unmated male, massive but alone.He was a barrel of a beast, as big as they come,ferocious in his rage. And they rued his coming.For at his first thrust he threw three men asideand sped off at full speed, sparing the rest.So they whooped and hollered as hard as they could,blowing blasts on their horns to bring all who heard.In a rapturous rush, both riders and houndsbadger and bait the beast that they meanto kill. Often he stands at bay And gives the pack its fill. He hurts the hounds and they whimper, yowl, and shrill.
(58)
Archers came after him, aiming their bows.They showered him with shots that landed, sure enough;But though they hit him hard, with a hail of arrows,Hide shielded his shoulders, and he shrugged them off,Or they rebounded from the barbs that bristled round his head(Though the shafts shattered from the sheer forceThat made them bounce back, when their arc bent to earth.)At length, aroused and enraged by their harassing fireAnd filled with a fighting frenzy, he fell on the hunters,Swiftly savaging all who set themselves against him,While their fellows fell back, fearing for their lives.But the lord leaped on his horse and lit out after him,Blowing his bugle like a warrior bent on battle.Calling the recall, he crashed through the brush,Pursuing the savage beast until the sun faded.They did this all day, driving alongWhile our own fine fellow was free to relaxAnd dally the day away, dressed in the fanciestOf styles. The lady was inclined to greet her guest with smiles. For she had set her mind Once more to work her wiles [Translation to be continued]
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