 1. After the siege and the assault had ceased to Troy, the city had been destroyed, and burned to rands and ashes. The warrior who wrought there the trains of treason was tried for his treachery, the truest on earth. This was Aeneas the noble. He and his high kindred afterwards conquered the provinces and became patrons of well-knight all the wealth in the West Isles. As soon as Rich Romulus turns him to Rome, with great pride he once builds that city and names it with his own name, which it now has. Tissues turns to Tuscany and founds dwellings. Longobard raises homes in Lombardy, and far over the French flood Felix Brutus establishes Britain joyfully on many broad banks where war and waste and wonders by turns have since dwelt, and many a swift interchange of bliss and woe. And when this Britain was founded by this great hero, bold men loving strife bred therein, and many a time they wrought destruction. More strange things have happened in this land since these days than in any other that I know, but of all the British kings that built here, Arthur was ever the most courteous, as I have heard tell. Therefore I mean to tell of an adventure in the world, which some count strange and extraordinary, even among the wonders of Arthur. If ye will listen to this lay, but a little while, I will tell it forthright, as I heard it told in town, as it is set down in story, that cannot be changed, long written in the land in true words. This king lay royally a Camelot at Christmas tide, with many vine lords, the best of men, all the rich brethren of the round table, with right rich revel and careless mirth. Therefore many heroes turned betides, jousted full gaily, then returned these gentle knights to the court to make carols. For there the feast was held full fifteen days alike, with all the meat and the mirth that men could devise. Such a merry tumult, glorious to hear, joyful din by day, dancing by at night. All was high joy in halls and chambers, with lords and ladies as pleased them best. With all the wheel in the world they dwelt there together, the most famous knight save only Christ, the loveliest ladies that ever had life, and he the comeliest of kings who holds the court. For all this fair company were in their prime in the hall, the happiest troop under heaven, with the proudest of kings. Truly it would be hard to name anywhere so brave a band. When the new year was fresh, and but newly come, the court was served double on the days. As soon as the king with his knights was coming to the hall, the chanting in the chapel came to an end. Loud was the cry there of clerks and others. Noelle was celebrated anew, shouted full often, and afterwards the great ones ran about to take Hansel, called aloud for new year's gifts. Ladies laughed full loud, though they had lost, and he that won was not raw, that may ye well trove. All this worth they made till the meet time. When they had washed, worthily they went to their seats, the best man ever above, as it best behoove'd. Queen Guinevere, for beauteous was set in the midst, placed on the high days adorned all about. Fine silk at the sides, a canopy over her of precious cloth of Toulouse and tapestries of tar's, that were embroidered and set with the best gems that money could buy. Truly no man could say that he ever beheld a comelier lady than she, with her dancing gray eyes. But Arthur could not eat, to all were served. He was so merry in his birth and somewhat childlike in his manner. His life pleased him well. He loved little either to lie long or to sit long, so busied him, his young blood in his wild brain. And another custom moved him also, that he through chivalry had taken up. He would never eat upon such a dear day before he was told an uncouth tale, of some adventurous thing, of some great marvel that he could believe, of ancient heroes, of arms, of other adventures, or unless some person demanded of him a sure night to join with him in jousting, to incur peril, to risk life against life, trusting each and the other, leaving the victory to fortune. This was the king's custom, whenever he held court at each goodly feast among his free company in the hall. And so, with undaunted face, he stride stoutly to his seat on that new year, making great mirth with everybody. Thus the great king stands waiting before the high table, talking of trifles full courteously. The good Gowen was placed there beside Guinevere, an aggravein of the hard hand sat on the other side, both of them the king's sister's sons and full sure nights. Bishop Baldwin at the top begins the table, and Guinevere's son ate by himself. These were placed on the days and honorably served, and after the many a good man at the side tables. Then the first course came in with the Blair trumpets, which were hung with many a bright banner. A new noise of kettle drums with noble pipes, wild and stirring melodies, wakened the echoes, that many a heart heaved full high at their tones. Dainties of precious meats followed, foisin' of fresh viands, and so on many dishes that it was difficult to find place before the people to set on the cloth the silver that held the several courses. Each man as he placed himself preferred partook without hesitation. Every two had twelve dishes between them. Good beer and bright wine both. Now I will tell you no more of their service, for everybody must well understand that there was no lack of opportunity for the people to take their food. Another noise, full new suddenly drew nigh, for scarcely had the music ceased a moment, and the first course had been properly served in the court. Then they burst in at the hall door an awesome being, in height one of the tallest men in the world. From the neck to the waist so square and so thick was he, and his loins and his limbs so long and so great, that half giant I believed him to have been, or at any rate the largest of men, and with all the handsomest in spite of his bulk that ever rode. For though his back and breast were so vast, yet his belly and waist were properly slim, and all his form accordingly, full, fairly shaped. At the hue of his noble face men wondered. He carried himself in hostile fashion, and was entirely green. All green was this man in his clothing, a straight coat sat tight to his sides, a fair mantle above adorned within, the lining showed, with costly trimming of shining white fur, and such his hood also, that was caught back from his locks, and lay on his shoulders, the hem well stretched, hose of the same green that clung to his cap, and clean spurs under of bright gold upon silk bands richly barred, and shoes on his shanks as the hero rides. And all his vesture verily was clean verdu. Both the bars of his belt and the other beautiest stones that were set in fine array about himself and his saddle worked on silk. It would be too difficult to tell the half of the trifles that were embroidered there, with birds and flies, with gay gods of green, the good over in the middle, the pendants of the Poitou, the proud cropper, the bits, and all the metal was enameled. The stirrups that he stood on were colored the same, and his saddlebow likewise, and his fine reins that glimmered and glinted all of green stones. The horse that he rode on was of the same color too, a green horse, great and thick, a steed full stiff to guide in gay embroidered bridle, and one bright deer to his master. This hero was splendidly dressed in green, and the hair of his head matched that of his horse. Fair flowing locks and folded his shoulders, a beard as big as a bush hung over his breast, and it together with his splendid hair that reached from his head was trimmed evenly all round above his elbows, so that half his arms were caught there under in the manner of a king's hood that covers his neck. The mane of that great horse was much like it, very curly and combed, with knots full many folded in with gold wire about the fair green. Always one knot of the hair, another of gold. The tail and the forelock were twined in the same way, and both bound with a band of bright green, set with full precious stones the whole length of the dock, and then tied up with a thong in a tight knot, where rang many bells full bright of burnished gold. Such a steed in the world, such a hero as rides him, was never beheld in that hall before that time. His glances were like bright lightning, so set all that saw him. It seemed as if no man could endure under his blows. He had neither helm nor harbock, nor gorget, armor, nor breastplate, nor shaft, nor shield, to guard or to smite, but in his one hand he had a holy twig. That is greenest when groves are bare, and an axe in his other, a huge and prodigious one, a weapon merciless almost beyond description. The head had the vast length of an elliard, the blade all of green steel and a beaten gold. The bit brightly burnished with a broad edge, as well shaped for cutting as sharp razors. The stern warrior gripped by it, the steel of its stout staff, which was wound with iron to the end of the wood, and all engraven with green and beauteous work. A lace was lapped about it, that was fastened at the head, and tied up often along the helm, with many precious tassels attached on rich embroidered buttons of bright green. This hero turns him in and enters the hall, riding straight to the high daze, fearless of mischief. He greeted Deborah one, but looked loftily about, and the first word that he uttered was, where is the governor of this company? Gladly I would see that hero and speak with him. He cast his eye on the knights, and rode fiercely up and down, stopped in Ganponder, who was there the most renowned. All gazed fixedly on the man, for everybody marbled what it might mean, that a knight and a horse could have such a color, as green grown as the grass, and greener it seemed, shining brighter than green enamel on gold. All were amazed who stood there, and stalked nearer to him, with all the wonder in the world what he would do. For many marvels had they seen, but such never before. Therefore for phantom and fairy the folk there deemed it, and for that reason many a noble warrior was slow to answer, and all were astonished at his voice, and sat stone still in a deep silence through the rich hall. Their voices sank as though they had suddenly fallen asleep. I deem, however, that it was not all for fear, but somewhat for courtesy. But now let him, to whom all defer, undertake the white. Then Arthur, before the high days, beheld that adventure, and saluted the stranger properly. For never was he afraid, and said, Sir, welcome indeed to this place. I am called Arthur, the head of this hostel. Light courteously down and tarry, I pray thee, and what so thy will is we shall wait after. Nay, so help me he that sits on high, quote the hero, to dwelt any time in this house was not my errand. But because the fame of this people is lifted up so high, and thy town and thy men are held the best, the stoutest and steel gear on steeds to ride, the whitest and the worthiest of the world's kind, and proved opponents in other proper sports. And here courtesy is known, as I have heard tell. It is this that has enticed me hither, certainly at this time. You may be sure by this branch that I bear, hear that I pass in peace and seek no quarrel, for if I had set out with a company in fighting fashion, I have a hammock at home and a helm both, a shield and a sharp spear shining bright, and other weapons to wield, I wean well also. But since I wished no war, my weeds are softer. Now if thou, these bold, is all men tell, thou wilt grant me graciously the game that I ask. Arthur knew how to answer and said, Sir, courteous knight, if it is battle thou cravest, thou shall not fail of a fight here. Nay, I demand no fight. In faith I tell thee, there are but beardless children about on this bench. If I were hastened in arms on a high steed, there is no man here to match me. Their might is so weak. Therefore I crave in this court a Christmas game, for it is yule and new year, and there are many gallants. If there be a man in this house who holds himself so hardy, and is so bold in his blood, so rash in his head, that he dares stiffly strike one stroke for another, I shall give him as my gift this rich gizzard, this axe that is heavy enough to handle as he likes, and I shall abide the first blow as bare as I sit. If any warrior be white enough to try what I propose, let him leap lightly to me and take this weapon. I quit claim it forever, let him keep it as his own, and I shall stand him a stroke firmly on this floor. At another time, by our Lady, thou wilt grant me the boon of dealing him another blow. I will give him respite of a twelve-month and a day. Now high, and let us see quickly if any herein dare say ought. If he had astonished them at first, stiller were then all the retainers in the hall, the high and the low. The warrior on his steed settled himself in his saddle, and fiercely his red eyes he reeled about, bent his thick brows shining green, and waved his beard, waiting whoso would rise. When none would answer him, he coughed aloud, stretched himself hotly, and began to speak. What is this Arthur's house, said the hero then, that is famous through so many realms? Where is now your pride in your conquest, your fierceness, and your wrath and your great words? Now is the rebel and the renowned of the round table overcome by the word of a single man, for all tremble for dread without a blow shone. With this he laughed so loud the Lord grieved, the blood shot for shame into his face fair. He waxed as wroth as the wind, and so did all that were there, the king so keen of mood, then stood near that proud man. Sir, said he, by heaven thy asking is foolish, and as thou hast demanded folly it behooves thee to find it. I know no man that is aghast of thy great words. Give me now this gizarm for God's sake, and I will grant thy boon that thou hast ridden. Quickly he leaped to him and caught at his hand, and the other alights fiercely on foot. Now Arthur has his axe and grips the helm. He whirls it sternly about as if he meant to strife with it. The bold stranger stood upright before him, higher than any in the house by a head, and more. With stern cheer he stood there, stroked his beard, and with cool countenance drew down his coat. No more afraid or dismayed for Arthur's great strokes than if someone had brought him a drink of wine upon the bench. Gowen, that sat by the queen, turned to the king. I beseech now with all courtesy that this affair might be mine. Would ye worthy lord, quote Gowen to the king, bid me step from this bench and stand by you there, that I, without rudeness, might leave this table, and that my liege, lady, liked it not ill? I would come to your help before your rich court, for me thinks it is obviously unseemly that such an asking is made so much of in your hall, even though ye yourself be willing to take it upon you, while so many bold ones sit about you on the bench. Then whom I wean none under heaven are higher of spirit, nor more mighty on the field where strike is reared. I am the weakest I know, and the feeblest of wit, and to tell the truth there would be the least loss in my life. I am only to praise for as much as ye are my uncle. No other nobility than your blood, no I am my body. And since this adventure is so foolish, it belongs not to you. I have asked it of you first, give it to me. Let this great court decide if I have not spoken well. The heroes took counsel together, and they all gave the same advice, to free their crowned king, and give the game to Gowen. Then the king commanded Gowen to rise from the table, and he right quickly stood up and made himself ready. Kneeled down before the king and took the weapon, and Arthur lovingly left it to him, lifted up his hand, and gave him God's blessing, and gladly bade him be hearty of heart and hand. Take care, cousin, quotes the king, that thou give him a cut, and if thou handle him properly, I readily believe that thou shall endure the blow which he shall give after. Gowen goes to the man with the gizzard in hand, and he boldly awaits him, shrinking never a whit. Then speaks to Sir Gowen the knight in the green, rehearse we our agreement before we go farther. First I conjure thee, hero, how thou art called, that thou tell me it truly, so I may believe it. In good faith, quote the knight, Gowen I am called, who give you this buffet. Whatever befalls after, and at this time twelve month, I am to take from thee another, with whatever weapon thou wilt, and from no white else alive. The other answers again, Sir Gowen, so thrive I, as I am heartily glad, that thou shalt give this blow. By Gog, quotes the green knight, Sir Gowen it delights me that I am to get at thy fist what I have requested here, and thou hast readily and truly rehearsed the whole of the covenant that I asked of the king. Save that thou shalt assure me, sir, by thy troth, that thou wilt seek me, thyself, wheresoever thou thinkest I may be found upon the earth, and fetch for thyself such wages as thou dealest me today before this rich company. Where should I seek thee, quote Gowen? Where is thy place? I know never where thou livest by him that wroth me. Nor do I know thee, knight, thy court, nor thy name, but tell me truly the way, and how thou art called, and I will use all my wit to win my way thither. And that I swear thee, for a sooth, and by my sure troth. New year will suffice for that, no more is needed now, quote the man in green to Gowen the courteous. To tell the truth, after I have received thy tap, and thou hast smitten me well, I shall promptly inform thee of my house, and my home, and my own name. Then thou mayest inquire about my journey, and whole promise. And if I speak no speech, then thou speedest the better, for thou mayest linger at ease in thy land, and seek no further. Now take thy grim tool to thee, and let us see how thou knockest. Gladly serve for sooth, quote Gowen, as he strokes his axe. The green knight on the ground prepared himself properly. With the head a little bowed, he disclosed the flesh. His long, lovely locks he laid over his crown, and let the naked nape of his neck show for the blow. Gowen gripped his axe, and gathered it on high. The left foot he set before on the ground, and let the axe lightly light smartly down on the naked flesh, so that the sharp edge severed the giant's bones, and shrank through the clear flesh, and sheared it in twain till the edge of the brown steel bit into the ground. The fair head fell from the neck to the earth, and many pushed it with their feet where it rolled forth. The blood burst from the body and glistened on the green. Yet never faltered, nor fell the hero for all that. But stoutly he started up with firm steps, and fiercely he rushed forth where the hero stood. Caught his lovely head and lifted it up straight away. Then he turned to his steed, seized the bridle, stepped into the steel bow, and strode aloft, holding the head in his hand by the hair, and as soberly the man sat in his saddle as if no mishap had ailed him, though he was headless on the spot. He turned his trunk about, that ugly body that bled. Many of one of them thought he had lost his reason, for he held the head straight up in his hand, turned the face toward the highest on the days, and it lifted up the eyelids and looked straight out, and spoke thus much with his mouth, as ye may now hear. Look, Gowen, that thou be ready to go as thou has promised, and seek loyally, hero, till thou find me, as thou has promised in this hall and the hearing of these nights. To the green chapel go thou. I charge thee to receive such a blow as thou has dealt. Thou deservedst to be promptly paid on New Year's mourn. As the night of the green chapel, many men know me. Therefore, if thou strivesst to find me, thou shalt never fail. And so come, for it behooves thee to be called, Recreant. With a wild rush he turned the reins, and flew out at the hall door, his head in his hand, so that the fire of the flint flew from the foals' hoofs. To what country he vanished knew none there, no more than they whisked whence he was come. The king and Gowen roared with laughter at that green man, but this adventure was reckoned a marvel among men. Though the courteous king wondered in his heart, he let no semblance be seen but settled out to the comely queen with courteous speech. Dear Dane, today be never dismayed. Well becoming are such tricks of Christmas, in lack of entertainment to laugh and sing about among these pleasant carols of knights and ladies. Nevertheless, I may well go to my meet, for I cannot deny that I have seen a marvel. He glanced at Sir Gowen and said cheerfully, no, sir, hang up thine axe, it has hewn enough. And it was put above the days to hang on the tapestry, where all men might marvel at it, and by and aboutch the wonderful happening. Then they turned to the board these heroes together, the king and the good knight, and the keen men served them double of all dainties, as was most fitting, with all manner of meat and minstrelry both. They spent that day in joy until it came to an end. Now take care, Sir Gowen, that thou blench not for the pain to prosecute this adventure that thou hast taken on hand. Fit the second, one. This handful of adventures had Arthur in the beginning, in the young year since he yearned to hear boasting. Although there was little news when they went to their seats, now they are provided with stern work, their hands quite full. Gowen was glad to begin those games in the hall, but it would not be surprising if the end were heavy, for though men be merry in mind when they have much drink, yet a year runs full swiftly. And yields never the same, the beginning full seldom matches the end. And so this yule went by, and the year after it, each season in turn following the other. After Christmas came the crabbed lent, that tries the flesh with fish and more simple food. But then the weather of the world quarrels with the winter, and though the cold still clings, the clouds lift, copiously descends the rain in warm showers, and falls upon the fair earth. Flowers show there, green are the garments both of fields and of groves. Birds hurry to build, and lustily they sing for the solace of the soft summer that follows thereafter. Blossoms swell into bloom in rows rich and rank, and lovely notes are heard in the beauteous wood. Two. After the season of summer, with the soft winds, when the zephyrus blows on seeds and herbs, happy is the plant that waxes then, when the dank dew drops from the leaves, to await the blissful glance of the bright sun. But then harvest hastens and hardens it soon. Warns it to wax full ripe against the winter. He drives with drought the dust to rise, from the face of the earth to fly full high. The wild wind of the welkin wrestles with the sun. The leaves fall from the bow, and light on the ground. The grass becomes all gray that earth was green. Then all ripes and rots, that which formerly flourished, and thus runs the year in yesteryears many. And winter returns again, without asking any man. Till the Michael-mass moon has come in wintery wise. Then thinks Gowan full soon of his anxious voyage. Three. Yet till all hallows day with Arthur he lingers, and Arthur made a feast on that festival for the hero's sake, with great and gay rebel of the round table. Night's full courteous and comely ladies, all for love of that man, were in sorrow. But nevertheless they spoke only of mirth, and many a joyless one there made jests for his gentle sake. After meet he mournfully addresses his uncle, and speaks of his passage, and openly he says, Now leech, Lord of my life, leave I ask of you. You know the cost of this case, I do not care to tell you even a trifle of its dangers. But I am ready to start for the fray no later than tomorrow mourn. To seek the man in green, as God will guide me. Then the best of the castle gathered together, Ivan and Eric, and others for many. Sir Dondonal, to Savage, the Duke of Clarence, Lancelot and Lionel, and Lucan the good, Sir Bors, and Sir Bedivere, big men both, and many other proud ones, with Medor de la Porte. All this company of the court came nearer to the king to counsel the knight, with care at their hearts. There was much deep grief felt in the hall that's a worthy one as Gowan should go on that errand. To endure a sorry dint and deal, knowing himself with his brand. But the knight ever made good cheer and said, Why should I swerve from stern and strange destiny? What can a man do but try? For. He lingered there all that day, and on the mourn made ready. Early he asked for his arms, and they were all brought. First a carpet of Toulouse was stretched over the floor, and much was the guilt gear that gleamed upon it. The brave man stepped thereon and handled the steel, clad in a doublet of costly tires, and afterwards a well-wrought hood, closed on top and bound within with a glistening white fur. Then they put sabotons upon the hero's feet, lapped his legs in steel with fair greaves, to which were attached well-polished pollinines, fastened about his knees with knots of gold. Fine cooieses, then, that well enclosed his thick brunny thighs they attached with thongs. Next the decorated bernie of bright steel rings upon precious stuff encased the hero, and well burnished braces upon his two arms, with elbow pieces, goodly and gay and gloves of plate, and all the goodly gear that might avail him at that time. With rich coat armor, gold spears well fastened, and a sure brant gert about his side with a silken sash. Five. When he was hasped in arms, his harness was rich, the least latchet or loop gleamed with gold. So harnessed as he was, he heard his mass offered, and adored at the high altar. When he came to the king and his court, courteously took his leave of lords and ladies, and they kissed him and conveyed him and trusting him to Christ. By that time was Gringolet ready, and gert with a saddle that gleamed full gaily with many gold fringes. Everywhere nailed anew, prepared for that emergency. The bridle, bared about, was bound with bright gold. The decoration of the breastplate and of the fine housings, the cropper and the coppison, accorded with the saddle bow, and all was adorned with rich red gold nails that glittered and gleamed like the gleam of the sun. Then he took the helm and quickly kissed it. It was stoutly stapled and stuffed within. It was high on his head, haste behind, with a light urison over the venton, embroidered and bound with the best gems on a broad silken border. And birds on the seams, like painted popin' jays, preening themselves here and there, turtle doves and true loves thickly interlaced. As many birds there were as had been in town for seven winters, the circlet that surrounded his crown was even more precious, a device of gleaming diamonds. Six. Then they showed him the shield. That was of sheer ghouls, with a pentangle painted in pure gold. He took it by the baldrick and cast it about his neck, and it became the hero passing fair. And why the pentangle pertains to that noble prince, I mean to tell you, though it should delay me. It is a sign that Solomon set formally as a token of truth by its own right, for it is a figure that holds five points, and each line overlaps and locks in another. And throughout it is endless, and the English call it everywhere, as I hear, the endless knot. Therefore it suits this knight in his clear arms, forever faithful in five things, and in each of them five ways. Gowan was known for good, and as refined gold, devoid of every villainy, adorned with virtues. Therefore the new pentangle he bore on shield and coat, as the man most true of speech, and the knight gentlest of behavior. Seven. First he was found faultless in his five wits, and again the hero failed never in his five fingers. And all his affluence in this world was in the five wounds that Christ received on the cross, as the creed tells. And wheresoever this man was hardly stead in the Malay, his pious thought was in this above all other things, to take all his strength from the five joys that the courteous queen of heaven had of her child. For this cause the knight had her image calmly painted in the greater half of his shield, that when he looked down there upon, his courage never abated. The fifth five that I find that the hero used were generosity and fellowship above all things, his purity and his courteouscy that never swerved, and pity that passes all qualities. These very five were more surely set upon that warrior than upon any other. Now all these were established five fold in this night, and each one was fastened in another that had no end. And they were fastened on five points that never failed, nor met anywhere nor sundered either, but finished always without end at each corner wherever the game began or concluded. Therefore on his fair shield this knot was painted royally with red gold upon red ghouls. That is the true pentangle, as the people properly call it. Now was a gay gown armed. He caught up his lance right there, and with a good day he went for evermore. Eight. He spurred his steed with the spurs and sprang on his way so swiftly that the stone struck out fire after him. All who saw the gentleman sighed in heart, and the hero said altogether to each other, in their love of that holy night, by Christ it is a shame that thou hero must be lost, thou art so noble of life. In faith it is not easy to find his match upon earth. To have acted more word-warely would have been better counsel, and to have made Yondir want a duke. It would well become him to be a brilliant leader of people here. This would have been better than to have him utterly destroyed, given over to an elfish man for mere boasting pride. Whoever knew any king to take such counsel as to suffer nights to be so tricked for a Christmas game. Much warm water welled from eyes, when that seemingly sire departed from the dwellings that day. He made no stop, but whiterly went his way. Many attires and path he rode, as I heard the book tell. 9. Now rides his hero, Sir Gowen, through the realm of Logres in God's behalf. Though to him it seemed no play. Off to lone companionless he lodged at night in places where he found not before him the fair that he liked. No company had he but his foal by friths and downs, nor nobody but God to talk with, by the way, till that he approached Nye unto North Wales. He kept all the aisles of Anglesey on the left side, and fared over the fords by the forelands, over at the holy head, till he again took land in the wilderness of Whirl. There dwelt but few, but loved either God or man with good heart. And ever as he fared, he asked of men that he met, if they had heard any talk of a green night, of the green chapel in any spot they were about, and all nicked him with Nye, that never in their life saw they any man of such green hue. The night took strange roads by many a rough bank. His cheer changed full oft, ere he saw that chapel. 10. Many a cliff he overclimbed in strange countries, far sundered from his friends lonely he rowed. At each ford or water where the hero passed, it were strange if he found not a foe before him, and that so foul and so foul that it behooved him to fight. So many marvels in the mountains there, the man found that it were too tedious to tell of the tenth part. Sometimes he warred with serpents and with wolves also, sometimes with savages that dwelt in the cliffs, both with bulls and bears and boars sometimes, and giants that assailed him from high fell. Had he not been doubty and stern, and served God, doubtless he had been dead and slain full oft. But the warfare tried him not so much, but that the winter was worse. When the cold clear water shed from the clouds, and froze ere it might fall to the barren earth. Near slain with the sleet, he slept in his iron more nights than enough on naked rocks. Were clattering from the crest the cold burn and hung high over his head in hard icicles. Thus in peril and pain and plights full hard, through the country wanders this night all alone till Christmas Eve. At that tide to marry he made his moon that she might direct his riding and lead him to some dwelling. 11. Merrily on the morn he rides by a mount into a forest full deep, that was strangely wild. High hills were on each side, and woods beneath of whore oaks full huge a hundred together. The hazel and the hawthorn were twined all together, covered everywhere with rough ragged moss, and many unblithe birds upon bear twigs that piteously piped there for pain of the cold. The night upon Gringoleth rides all alone under the boughs, through many a moss and mire, mourning for his trials, lest he should never survive to see the service of that sire who on that very night was born of a lady to quell our pain. And therefore signe he said, I beseech thee, Lord and Merri, that is mildest mother so dear for some harbour where I might properly hear mass and thy matins tomorrow. Meekly I ask it and thereto earnestly I pray my pater to ave and creed. He rode in his prayer and lamented for his misdeeds. Off times he blessed himself and said, Christ cross speed me. 12. The hero had not crossed himself more than thrice, ere he was aware in the wood of a dwelling on a hill above a clearing, on a mount, hidden under the boughs of many a huge tree about the ditches. A castle the comliest that ever night owned, set on a prairie a park all about, with its beautiful palace pinnacled full thick, and surrounded with many a tree for more than two miles. The hero gazed at the castle, on that one side as it shimmered and shone, through the fair oaks. Then he humbly doffed his helm, and devoutly he thanked Jesus and Saint Julian, who are both gentle, who courteously had directed him and hearkened to his cry. Now, bon hustle, quoth the man, I beseech you yet. Then he spurs Gringolet with his guilt heels, and he full fortunately takes the way to the chief road, that soon brought the hero to the bridge end in haste. The bridge was securely lifted, the gates locked fast, the walls were well arrayed, no wind blasted it here. Thirteen. The hero that sat on his horse, a boat on the bank of the deep double ditch that stretched to the place. The wall sank in the water, wondrous deep, and again a full, huge height it towered aloft, of hard, hewn stone, up to the top courses, corbelled under the battlement in the best manner. And above fine watchtowers ranged along with many good loopholes that shone full clean. A better Babacan than hero never looked upon. And farther within he beheld the high hall, with towers set full thickly about, and fair and wondrous high filioles, with carved tops cuttingly devised. Chalk white chimneys enough, he saw that gleamed full white on the battlements. So many painted pinnacles were set everywhere, built so thick among the crenellations of the castle, that it verily appeared cut out of paper. Fair enough it seemed to the noble knight on his horse, if he could only attain the shelter within to harbour in that hostel, while the holiday lasted. He called, and soon there appeared on the wall a right pleasant porter who took his message and greeted the knight around. 14. Good sir, quote Gowan, would you go, my errand, to the high lord of this house to crave harbour? Yea, by Peter, quote the porter, and truly I trow that ye are welcome, sir, to dwell while you like. Then the man went again quickly, and a crowd of folk with him to receive the knight. They let down the great draw, and eagerly poured out, and kneeled down on their knees upon the cold earth to welcome the hero, as it seemed to them proper. They opened up wide the broad gate for him, and he raised them courteously and rode over the bridge. Several attendants held his saddle while he alighted, and afterwards good men enough stabled his steed. Then knights and squires came down to bring this hero joyfully into the hall. When he lifted up his helm, people enough hurried to take it at his hand, in order to serve the courteous one. His sword and his shield they took to. Then he greeted full courteously the knights each one, and many a proud man pressed there to honour that prince. All hasped in his high weeds they led him to the hall where a fair fire burned fiercely upon the hearth. Then the Lord of the people came from his chamber to meet courteously the man on the floor. He said, He are welcome to wield as you like with his ear. All is your own to have at your will and commandment. Gramercy, Kothgau, Christ rewards you for it. Like glad heroes, either folded the other in his arms. Fifteen. Gowon looked on the man who greeted him so goodly, and thought it a bold hero that owned the castle, a huge warrior for the knots, and of great age. Broad and bright was his beard, and all beaver-hued. From gated was he on his stalwart limbs, with a face as fierce as fire and a free speech, and to the hero he seemed well suited indeed to govern a nation of good people. The Lord turned to a chamber and promptly commanded to give Gowon a retinue to serve him in lowly wise, and they were ready at his bidding men enough who brought him to a bright bower where the bending was curtains of pure silk with clear gold hems, and couvertures right curious with calmly borders adorned above with bright fur, curtains running on ropes, red gold rings, tapestries of Toulouse and tar's hung on the wall, and underfoot on the floor of the same pattern. There, with mirthful speeches, the hero was despoiled of his bernie and of his bright weeds. Quickly men brought him rich robes that he might pick and choose the best for his change. As soon as he took one, and was wrapped therein, that sat upon him seemingly with sailing skirts, the hero, by his fidget, visage, verily seemed to well nigh every man in looks glowing, and lovely is all his limbs. It seemed to them that Christ never made a comely or night. Wherever in the world he were, it seemed as if he might be a prince without peer in the field where fell men fight. 16. A chair before the chimney, where charcoal burned, was prepared for Sir Gowan, richly with cloths and cushions, upon counterpains that were both fine. And then a beauteous mantle was cast on the man, of a brown fabric richly embroidered, and fairly furred within, with the best skins, all of hermen, the hood of the same. And he sat on that settle and seemingly rich attire, and warmed him thoroughly, and then his chair mended. Soon a table was raised up on trestle's full fair, and set with a clean cloth that showed clear white napkins, salt cellar, and silver spoons. The hero washed when he would, and went to his meat. Men served him seemingly enough, double-fold, as was proper, with potages, various and suitable, seasoned in the best manner, and many kinds of fish, some baked in bread, some broiled on the coals, some boiled, some in sauces savoured with spices, and always discourse so pleasant that it pleased the warrior. Full freely and often, the hero called it a feast right courteously, when all the retainers together praised him as courteous. Do this penance now, and soon things will be better. Right mirthful was he for the wine that went to his head. Seventeen. Then they questioned and inquired, sparingly in skillful queries, put to the prince himself, till he courteously acknowledged that he was of the court which noble Arthur holds alone, who is the rich royal king of the round table, and that it was Gowan himself that sits in the house by chance come for that Christmas. When the Lord had learned that he had that hero, he laughed aloud, so dear it seemed to him, and all the men in the castle made much joy at appearing promptly in the presence of him who contains in his own person all worth and prowess and gracious traits and is ever praised. Above all the men in the world his renown is the greatest. Each warrior said full softly to his companion, now shall we see courteous turns of behavior and the blameless forms of noble talking. What profit there is in speech may we learn without asking, since we have taken that fine father of nurture. God has indeed given us his grace, who grants us to have such a guest as Gowan. On account of whose birth men sit and sing for joy. This hero will now teach us what distinguished manners are. I think that those who hear him will learn how to make love. Eighteen. When dinner was done and the dear ones risen, the time was nigh arrived at the night. Chaplains took their way to the chapels and rang full loudly as they should, to the melodious evensong of the high time. The lord turns thither and the lady also. Into a combly closet daintily she enters. Gowan joyfully proceeds and goes thither straight away. The lord takes him by the mantle and leads him to his seat, recognizes him openly and calls him by his name, and says he is welcomest white in the world. And Gowan thanked him thoroughly and either embraced the other and they sat soberly together during the service. Then the lady desired to look on the night and came from her closet with many fair maidens. But she was fairer than all the others in flesh and face, in skin and form, in complexion and demeanor. More beautiful than Guinevere it seemed to the hero. He walked through the chancel to greet that gracious one. Another lady led her by the left hand that was older than she, an ancient lady it seemed, and one highly honoured by the knights about her. But unlike to look on were the ladies, for if the younger was fair, yellow was the other. Rich red on the one bloomed everywhere, rough wrinkled cheeks rolled on the other. The kerchiefs of one broided with many clear pearls, openly displayed her breast and her bright throat, which shone clearer than snow that falls on the hills. The other covered her neck with a gorget that wrapped her black chin in milk-white pleats. Her forehead was completely enveloped in silken folds, adorned and tricked with many small ornaments, and not was bare of that lady but the black brows, the two eyes, the nose and the naked lips, and those were ugly to behold, and oddly bleared. A gracious lady in the land one might call her forsooth. Her body was short and thick, her hips round and broad. More pleasant to look on was the being she led. 19. When Gowen looked on that beauteous one who gazed graciously, he took leave of the Lord and went toward them. The elder he saluted, bowing full low. The lovelier he took a little in his arms. He kissed her calmly, and nightly he greeted her. They welcomed him, and he quickly asked to be their servant if it pleased them. They took him between them and led him conversing to the fireplace in the parlor, and straightway they called for spices, which men speeded to bring them unsparingly, and the pleasant wine therewith each time. The Lord leaped up merrily, whole often, and saw to it that the mirth never faltered. Galey he snatched off his hood and hung it on a spear, and extorted them to win it as a prize. He to have it, who should make the most mirth that Christmas tide. And I shall try by my faith with the help of my friends to compete the best ere I lose my apparel. Thus with laughing mean the Lord makes merry in order to glad Sir Gowen with games in the hall that night. When it came time the king commanded lights. Sir Gowen took his leave and went to his bed. Twenty. On the morn when as every man knows God was born to die for us, joy waxes in every dwelling in the world for his sake. So it did there on that day, with many dainties at meats and meals, bright quaint dishes, and brave men on the days dressed in their best. The old ancient wife sits in the highest, the courteous Lord placed by her as I trow. Gowen and the gay lady together just in the middle, and as the courses properly come, and afterwards the rest throughout all the hall as it seemed to them, each man in his degree was properly served. There was meat, there was mirth, there was much joy. That it were arduous for me to tell thereof, though to note it I took pains be like. But yet I know that Gowen and the lovely lady took comfort in each other's company in the choice play of their sharp wits and the pure courtesy of their modest talk. Their despot surpassed indeed that of any royal game. Trumps and drums came playing loudly, each man minded his own business, and they too minded theirs. 21. Much delight was taken there that day and the second, and the third followed his pleasantly. The joy of St. John's Day was gentle to hero, and it was the last of the festival the people considered. There were guests to go upon the grey morn. Therefore, wondrous late they sat up and drank the wine, danced full gaily with sweet carols. At the last, when it was late, they took their leave, each good man to wend on his way. Gowen gave his host good day, but the good man takes him and leads him to his own chamber by the fireplace, and there he draws him aside and properly thanks him for the great worship that he had granted him in honoring his house on that high tide, in embellishing his castle with his good cheer. Indeed, sir, while I live I shall be the better that Gowen has been my guest at God's own feast. Grand Mercy, sir, quote Gowen, in good faith the merit is yours, all the honor is your own. The High King reward you, and I am your man, to work your behest in high and low, as I am bound by right. The Lord eagerly strives to hold the night longer, but Gowen answers him that he can in no wise. 22. Then the hero asked of him full fairly what extraordinary deed had driven him at that dear time from the King's court, to go all alone so boldly ere the holidays were wholly over. For sooth, sir, quote the hero, ye say but the truth, a high errand and a hasty had me from these dwellings, for I am summoned to such a place as I know not in the world, witherward to when to find it. I would not for all the land in low grass fail to reach it on New Year's mourn, so, our Lord, help me. Therefore, sir, this request I require of you here, that ye tell me truly, if ever ye heard the tale of the green chapel, where in the world it stands, and of the night green in color that keeps it. There was established by statue an agreement between us that I should meet that man at that landmark, if I could but survive. And of that new year there now lacks but little, and by God's Son I would gladlyer look on that person, if God would let me, then wield any possession in the world. Therefore, indeed, by your good will, it behooves me to wind. I have now at my disposal, barely three days, and I were as faint fall dead as fail of mine errand. Then, laughing, quote the Lord, now it behooves thee to stay, for I shall direct you to that spot by the time's end. The green chapel upon the ground, grieve you no more, for ye shall be in your bed, sir, at thine ease some days yet, and set out on the first of the year, and come to that place at Midmorne to do what you like. Stay till New Year's Day, and rise and go then. One shall set you on your way. It is not two miles hence. Twenty-three. Then was Gowan full glad, and merrily he laughed. Now I thank you especially for this above all other things. Now that my quest is achieved, I shall dwell at your will, and do whatever else ye decide. Then the sire seized him and set him beside him, and let the ladies be fetched to please them the better. Fair entertainment they had quietly among themselves. The Lord and his jovial, friendly demeanor behaved as a man out of his wits that knew not what he did. Then he spake to the night, crying loud, ye have agreed to do the deed that I bid. Will ye hold this haste here at once? Ye serve, for sooth said the true hero. While I stay in your castle, I shall be obedient to your haste. Since ye have traveled from afar, quote the warrior, and then have sat late with me, ye are not well nourished, I know, either with sustenance or with sleep. Ye shall linger in your loft and lie at your ease tomorrow till mass time, and go to meet when ye will with my wife, who shall sit with you and comfort you with her company till I return home, and I shall rise early and go hunting. Gowan grants all this, bowing courteously. Yet further, quote the hero, let us make an agreement. Whatsoever I win in the wood, it shall be yours, and whatsoever fortune ye achieve, exchange with me therefore. Sweet sir, swap we so, swear truly, whichever one of us gets the worse or the better. By God, quote Gowan the good, I consent thereto, and whatever game ye like agreeable it seems to me. On this beverage just brought, the bargain is made, said the lord of that people, and both laughed. Then they drank and played and amused themselves, these lords and ladies, so long as it pleased them. And then with polite demeanor and many fair gestures, they stood up and lingered awhile, and talked quietly, kissed full calmly, and took their leave. With many a gay servant and gleaming torches, each hero was brought to his bed full softly at the last. Yet before they went to bed they oft rehearsed the covenants. The old lord of that people knew well how to keep up a jest. End of fit the second.