Get thee to the Green Chapel, I charge thee, to fetch such a
dint as thou hast dealt, to be returned on New Year's morn.
dint as thou hast dealt, to be returned on New Year's morn.
Gawaine and the Green Knight
When thou hast smitten
me, then smartly I will teach thee of my house, my home, and my own
name, so that thou mayest follow my track and fulfil the covenant
between us. If I spend no speech, then speedest thou the better, for
then mayest thou remain in thy own land and seek no further; but cease
thy talking[1] (ll. 366-412). Take now thy grim tool to thee and let us
see how thou knockest. " "Gladly, sir, for sooth," quoth Gawayne, and
his axe he brandishes.
[Footnote 1: This, I think, is the true explanation of slokes. ]
The Green Knight adjusts himself on the ground, bends slightly his
head, lays his long lovely locks over his crown, and lays bare his neck
for the blow. Gawayne then gripped the axe, and, raising it on high,
let it fall quickly upon the knight's neck and severed the head from
the body. The fair head fell from the neck to the earth, and many
turned it aside with their feet as it rolled forth. The blood burst
from the body, yet the knight never faltered nor fell; but boldly he
started forth on stiff shanks and fiercely rushed forward, seized his
head, and lifted it up quickly. Then he runs to his horse, the bridle
he catches, steps into his stirrups and strides aloft. His head by the
hair he holds in his hands, and sits as firmly in his saddle as if no
mishap had ailed him, though headless he was (ll. 413-439). He turned
his ugly trunk about--that ugly body that bled,--and holding the head
in his hand, he directed the face toward the "dearest on the dais. " The
head lifted up its eyelids and looked abroad, and thus much spoke with
its mouth as ye may now hear:
"Loke, Gawayne, thou be prompt to go as thou hast promised, and seek
till thou find me according to thy promise made in the hearing of these
knights.
Get thee to the Green Chapel, I charge thee, to fetch such a
dint as thou hast dealt, to be returned on New Year's morn. As the
Knight of the Green Chapel I am known to many, wherefore if thou
seekest thou canst not fail to find me. Therefore come, or recreant be
called. " With a fierce start the reins he turns, rushes out of the
hall-door, his head in his hand, so that the fire of the flint flew
from the hoofs of his foal. To what kingdom he belonged knew none
there, nor knew they from whence he had come. What then?
"The king and Gawayne there
At that green (one) they laugh and grin. "
Though Arthur wondered much at the marvel, he let no one see that he
was at all troubled about it, but full loudly thus spake to his comely
queen with courteous speech:
"Dear dame, to-day be never dismayed, well happens such craft at
Christmas time. I may now proceed to meat, for I cannot deny that I
have witnessed a wondrous adventure this day" (ll. 440-475).
He looked upon Sir Gawayne and said, "Now, sir, hang up thine axe, for
enough has it hewn. " So the weapon was hung up on high that all might
look upon it, and "by true title thereof tell the wonder. " Then all the
knights hastened to their seats at the table, so did the king and our
good knight, and they were there served with all dainties, "with all
manner of meat and minstrelsy. "
Though words were wanting when they first to seat went, now are their
hands full of stern work, and the marvel affords them good subject for
conversation. But a year passes full quickly and never returns,--the
beginning is seldom like the end; wherefore this Christmas passed away
and the year after, and each season in turn followed after another (ll.
476-520).
me, then smartly I will teach thee of my house, my home, and my own
name, so that thou mayest follow my track and fulfil the covenant
between us. If I spend no speech, then speedest thou the better, for
then mayest thou remain in thy own land and seek no further; but cease
thy talking[1] (ll. 366-412). Take now thy grim tool to thee and let us
see how thou knockest. " "Gladly, sir, for sooth," quoth Gawayne, and
his axe he brandishes.
[Footnote 1: This, I think, is the true explanation of slokes. ]
The Green Knight adjusts himself on the ground, bends slightly his
head, lays his long lovely locks over his crown, and lays bare his neck
for the blow. Gawayne then gripped the axe, and, raising it on high,
let it fall quickly upon the knight's neck and severed the head from
the body. The fair head fell from the neck to the earth, and many
turned it aside with their feet as it rolled forth. The blood burst
from the body, yet the knight never faltered nor fell; but boldly he
started forth on stiff shanks and fiercely rushed forward, seized his
head, and lifted it up quickly. Then he runs to his horse, the bridle
he catches, steps into his stirrups and strides aloft. His head by the
hair he holds in his hands, and sits as firmly in his saddle as if no
mishap had ailed him, though headless he was (ll. 413-439). He turned
his ugly trunk about--that ugly body that bled,--and holding the head
in his hand, he directed the face toward the "dearest on the dais. " The
head lifted up its eyelids and looked abroad, and thus much spoke with
its mouth as ye may now hear:
"Loke, Gawayne, thou be prompt to go as thou hast promised, and seek
till thou find me according to thy promise made in the hearing of these
knights.
Get thee to the Green Chapel, I charge thee, to fetch such a
dint as thou hast dealt, to be returned on New Year's morn. As the
Knight of the Green Chapel I am known to many, wherefore if thou
seekest thou canst not fail to find me. Therefore come, or recreant be
called. " With a fierce start the reins he turns, rushes out of the
hall-door, his head in his hand, so that the fire of the flint flew
from the hoofs of his foal. To what kingdom he belonged knew none
there, nor knew they from whence he had come. What then?
"The king and Gawayne there
At that green (one) they laugh and grin. "
Though Arthur wondered much at the marvel, he let no one see that he
was at all troubled about it, but full loudly thus spake to his comely
queen with courteous speech:
"Dear dame, to-day be never dismayed, well happens such craft at
Christmas time. I may now proceed to meat, for I cannot deny that I
have witnessed a wondrous adventure this day" (ll. 440-475).
He looked upon Sir Gawayne and said, "Now, sir, hang up thine axe, for
enough has it hewn. " So the weapon was hung up on high that all might
look upon it, and "by true title thereof tell the wonder. " Then all the
knights hastened to their seats at the table, so did the king and our
good knight, and they were there served with all dainties, "with all
manner of meat and minstrelsy. "
Though words were wanting when they first to seat went, now are their
hands full of stern work, and the marvel affords them good subject for
conversation. But a year passes full quickly and never returns,--the
beginning is seldom like the end; wherefore this Christmas passed away
and the year after, and each season in turn followed after another (ll.
476-520).
