FYTTE THE FIRST
1 After the siege and the assault had ceased at
Troy,
the city
been destroyed and burned to brands 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 provinces, and became patrons
of well
nigh all the wealth in the West Isles.
As soon
as rich Romulus turns him to Rome,
with
great pride he at once builds that city,
and
names it with his own name, which it now has;
Ticius
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.
2 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.
3 This King lay royally at Camelot at Christmas
tide
with
many fine lords, the best of men,
all the
rich brethren of the Round Table,
with
right rich revel and careless mirth.
There
full many heroes tourneyed betimes,
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 at night.
All was
high joy in halls and chambers
with
lords and ladies as pleased them best.
With all
the weal in the world they dwelt there together,
the most
famous knights 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.
4 When New Year was fresh and but newly come,
the
court was served double on the dais.
As soon
as the king with his knights was come into the hall,
the
chanting in the chapel came to an end;
loud was
the cry there of clerks and others.
Noel was
celebrated anew, shouted full often;
and
afterwards the great ones ran about to take handsel;
called aloud
for New Year's gifts;
ladies
laughed full loud, though they had lost;
and he
that won was not wroth, that may ye well trow.
All this
mirth they made till the meat time.
When
they had washed, worthily they went to their seats,
the best
man ever above, as it best behoved.
Queen
Guinevere full beauteous was set in the midst,
placed
on the rich dais adorned all about.
Fine
silk at the sides, a canopy over her
of
precious cloth of Toulouse and tapestries of Tars,
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.
5 But Arthur would not eat till all were served.
He was
so merry in his mirth, 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 and 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, or of other adventures;
or
unless some person demanded of him a sure knight
to join
with him in jousting, to incur peril,
to risk
life against life, trusting each in 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
strides stoutly to his seat
on that
New Year,
making
great mirth with everybody.
6 Thus the great king stands waiting before the
high table,
talking
of trifles full courteously.
The good
Gawain was placed there beside Guinevere,
and
Agravain of the Hard Hand sat on the other side,
both of
them the king's sister's sons and full sure knights.
Bishop
Baldwin at the top begins the table,
and
Ywain, Urien's son, ate by himself.
These
were placed on the dais and honorably served,
and
after them many a good man at the side tables.
Then the
first course came in with blare of trumpets,
which
were hung with many a bright banner.
A new
noise of kettle-drums with the noble pipes,
wild and
stirring melodies wakened the echoes;
that
many a heart heaved full high at their tones.
Dainties
of precious meats followed,
foison
of fresh viands, and on so 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 himself preferred
partook
without hesitation.
Every two had twelve dishes between them,
good beer
and bright wine both.
7 Now will I 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 been properly served in the court,
than
there 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
withal 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 according,
full
fairly shaped.
At the
hue of his noble face
men
wondered;
he
carried himself in hostile fashion
and was
entirely green.
8 All green was this man and 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 calf; 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 verdure,
both the
bars of his belt, and the other beauteous 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
gauds of green, — the good over in the middle;
the
pendants of the poitrel, the proud crupper,
the
bits, — and all the metal was enamelled;
the
stirrups that he stood on were coloured the same,
and his
saddle bow likewise, and his fine reins
that
glimmered and glinted all of green stones.
The
horse that he rode on was of the same
colour
too,
a green
horse, great and thick,
a steed
full stiff to guide,
in gay
embroidered bridle,
and one
right dear to his master.
9 This hero was splendidly dressed in green;
and the
hair of his head matched that of his horse;
fair
flowing locks enfolded 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 thereunder 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 said
all that saw him.
It seemed
as if no man
could
endure under his blows.
10 He had neither helm nor hauberk,
nor
gorget, armour nor breastplate,
nor
shaft nor shield to guard or to smite;
but in
his one hand he had a holly 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 ellyard,
the
blade all of green steel and of beaten gold;
the bit brightly burnished, with a broad edge,
as well
shaped for cutting as sharp razors.
The
stern warrior gripped it by the steel of its
stout staff,
which
was wound with iron to the end of the wood
and all
engraven with green in beauteous work.
A lace
was lapped about it, that was fastened at the head,
and tied
up often along the helve,
with
many precious tassels attached
on rich
embroidered buttons of the bright green.
This
hero turns him in and enters the hall,
riding
straight to the high dais, fearless of mischief.
He
greeted never a 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
and gan ponder
who was
there the most renowned.
11 All gazed fixedly on the man,
for
everybody marvelled what it might mean,
that a
knight and a horse could have such a colour:
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 faery 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 wight.
12 Then Arthur before the high dais 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
whatso thy will is we shall wit after."
"Nay, so help me he that sits on high," quoth the hero.
"To
dwell 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 in steel gear on steeds to ride,
the
wightest 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 here
that I
pass in peace and seek no quarrel;
for if I
had set out with a company in fighting fashion,
I have a
hauberk at home and a helm both,
a shield
and a sharp spear shining bright,
and
other weapons to wield, I ween well also;
but
since I wished no war, my weeds are softer.
Now if
thou be as bold as 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 that thou cravest,
thou
shalt not fail of a fight here."
13 "Nay, I demand no fight; in faith I tell
thee
there
are but beardless children about on this bench.
If I
were hasped 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 here are many gallants.
If there
be a man in this house who holds himself so hardy,
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 gisarm,
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 wight 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
twelvemonth and a day.
Now hie,
and let us see quickly
if any
herein dare say aught."
14 If he had astonished them at first, stiller
were then
all the
retainers in 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, awaiting whoso would rise.
When none would answer him he coughed aloud,
stretched himself haughtily 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 and your conquests,
your fierceness,
and your wrath and your great words?
Now is
the revel and the renown of the Round Table
overcome
by the word of a single man;
for all
tremble for dread without a blow shown."
With
this he laughed so loud that the lord grieved;
the blood shot for shame into his
fair
face.
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.
15 "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 gisarm, for God's sake,
and I
will grant thy boon that thou has bidden."
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 helve;
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
some one had brought him a drink of wine upon
the
bench.
Gawain,
that sat by the queen,
turned to
the king:
"I
beseech now with all courtesy
that this
affair might be mine.
16 "Would ye, worthy lord," quoth Gawain
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
methinks 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;
than
whom, I ween, none under heaven are higher of spirit,
nor more
mighty on the field where strike is reared.
I am the
weakest, I know, and feeblest of wit;
and to
tell the truth there would be the least loss in my life.
I am
only to praise forasmuch as ye are my uncle;
no other
nobility than your blood know I in 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
the crowned king
and give
the game to Gawain.
17 Then the king commanded Gawain 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 hardy
both of heart and of hand.
"Take care, cousin," quoth the king, "that thou give him
a cut;
and if
thou handle him properly, I readily believe
that
thou shalt endure the blow which he shall give after."
Gawain
goes to the man with gisarm in hand;
and he
boldly awaits him, shrinking never a whit.
Then
speaks to Sir Gawain 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 that I may believe it."
"In
good faith," quoth the knight, "Gawain am I called,
who give
you this buffet, whatever befalls after;
and at
this time twelvemonth I am to take from thee another
with
whatever weapon thou wilt, and from no wight else
alive."
The other
answers again,
"Sir
Gawain, so thrive I
as I am
heartily glad
that thou
shalt give this blow.
18 "By Gog," quoth the green knight,
"Sir Gawain, 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?" quoth Gawain. "Where is thy
place?
I know
never where thou livest, by him that wrought 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,"
quoth
the man in green to Gawain 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 mine own name.
Then
thou mayest inquire about my journey and hold 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.
Take now
thy grim tool to thee
and let
us see how thou knockest."
"Gladly, sir, for sooth,"
quoth
Gawain as he strokes his axe.
19 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.
Gawain
gripped his axe and gathered it on high;
the left
foot he set before on the ground,
and let
the axe 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 heroes stood,
caught
his lovely head, and lifted it up straightaway.
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 a
one of them thought
that he
had lost his reason.
20 For he held the head straight up in his hand;
turned
the face toward the highest on the dais;
and it
lifted up the eyelids and looked straight out,
and
spoke thus much with his mouth, as ye may now hear:
"Look Gawain, 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 in the hearing of these knights.
To the
green chapel go thou, I charge thee, to receive
such a
blow as thou has dealt. Thou deservest
to be
promptly paid on New Year's morn.
As the
knight of the green chapel many men know me;
therefore, if thou strivest to find me, thou shalt never fail.
And so
come, or 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 foal's hoofs.
To what
country he vanished knew none there;
no more
than they wist whence he
was
come.
The king
and Gawain roared
with
laughter at that green man;
but this
adventure was reckoned
a marvel
among men.
21 Though the courteous king wondered in his
heart,
he let
no semblance be seen, but said aloud
to the
comely queen with courteous speech,
"Dear dame, today be never dismayed;
well
becoming are such tricks at 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 meat,
for I
can not deny that I have seen a marvel."
He
glanced at Sir Gawain and said cheerfully,
"Now, sir, hang up thine axe; it has hewn enough."
And it
was put above the dais to hang on the tapestry
where
all men might marvel at it,
and by
it avouch 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 minstrelsy both.
They
spent that day in joy until it came to
an end.
Now take
care, Sir Gawain,
that thou
blench not for the pain
to
prosecute this adventure
that thou
has taken on hand.
1.