But the points could not pierce the pith of his shields,135
And the sharpest barb on his brawn would not bite
Though the shaven shaft shinder’d in pieces;
The arrow-head, where it hit, ever rebounded.
But the dints at last of their dree strokes dazed him,
And frenzied with the fray he forth on them rush’d,
Wounded them wickedly whéreso he sallied,
That many were adread, and drew them adree.
But the lord on a light horse launces136 him after,
Bold man on bent his bugle he blows,
And rides on a race through roan137 and thicket,
Pursuing this swine, till the sun breaks through.
So this day they drive with doings afield
While our lovesome liege is lying abed,
Gawain graithly at home, in gear full rich
Of sheen.
The lady not forgat,
To greet him she came in,
Full early was him at
Seeking his will to win.
LIX
She comes to the curtain, at the Kníght she peeps,
And Gawain her welcom’d with greeting full grave.
With an amorous word the athel she answer’d,
Sat softly by his side, then suddenly laugh’d,
And with a loving look the liege she address’d:
“Sir, if ye be Gawain, greatly I wonder,
That a prince so purely disposèd to good
Is so uncouth to catch the manners of company,
And by terms if I teach you, ye tent138 it but ill;
Ye have forgotten again what I yesterday taught
By the truest token of talk that I knew.”
“What is that?” said the wight, “I wot not your will;
If ’tis sooth that ye say, myself am to blame.”
“ ’Tis the lesson,” said the lady, “that of kissing ye learnt—
Where countenance139 is clear, quickly to claim;
So becomes ev’ry knight that courtesy uses.”
“Now spare me,” quoth Gawain, “such speech any more;
That durst I ne’er do, lest denayèd I were,
And, refus’d, I’m at fault though fairly I offer.”
“By my faith,” said the fair, “and who may refuse you?
Ye are strong to constrain by strength, an you like,
If any be so boorish the boon to deny.”
“So help me God,” quoth Gawain, “though good is your speech,
Yet force is a fool’s way, on fold where I dwell,
Or any gift that is giv’n but with góod-wìll;
I am at your command, to kiss if ye care,
Ye may take when ye list, and leave when ye like,
a space.”
The lady down did bend,
Courteously kiss’d his face,
Much speech did they expend
Of love, its grief and grace.
LX
“I would weet of you, wight,” that worthy replied,
“If ye wrath not therewith, what were the reason
That so young and so gay as you at this time,
So courteous, so knightly, as all know you abroad,
Should fail in the forms and fashion of court.
For of áll the chóice of chívalry, the chief thing prais’d
Is the leal game of love and errantry-lore;
And to tell of the trials of all trúe knìghts
Is the inscribèd title and text of their deeds:—
How lieges for love their lives have adventur’d,
Endured for their druery140 doleful hours,
Had vengeance by their valour and voided their sorrow,
And brought bliss into bower with bounties their own.
Now ye are the noblest knight, known of your eld,
Your name and your honour are aywhere upholden,
And I have sat by your side two several times
Yet no lightest word did light from your lips
That belongèd to love, or lesser or greater;
So courteous as you, of so knightly professions,
Ought verily to yearn to a creature so young,
And teach her some token of truelove dealings.
What! are ye so ignorant, in honour so high?
Or deem ye me too dull your dalliance to hearken?
For shame!
Single I come and sit
To learn of you some game;
Please! warn me of your wit
While alone ye have your dame.”
LXI
“In good faith,” said Gawain, “may God you reward!
Great is the glee, and the game to me huge
That so worthy as you should win to my chamber,
Take pains with a poor man, and play with your knight
With any kind of count’nance; it comforts me much.
But to take up that task, and true love expound
(Touching the text and the tales of romance)
To you that, I wot well, wield more of skill
In that art, by the half, than a hundred of such
As I am, or shall e’er be, on earth while I live,
’Twere a manifold folly, my fair, on my troth.
But your bidding I’ll do to the best of my might,
As I am highly beholden, and ever I bind me
To be soothly your servant, so save me the Almighty.”
Thus in talk did she try him and tempt him full oft,
To win him to woo her, whate’er she ween’d else,
But he defended so fair that no fault might appear,
Nor evil on either part, nor aught did they know
but bliss.
They laugh’d and had their play;
At last she did him kiss,
Made sign to wend her way,
And took her leave, I wis.
LXII
Now bestirs him Sir Gawain and steps to his mass,
And then dinner was dight, and daintily served.
He laik’d with the ladies the livelong day,
While the lord over laund launces full often
Pursuing his swine, that swung by the banks
And of the best of his bratches the backs bit in sunder
Where he bode at the bay, till the bowmen him shifted
And máde him máuger141 his héad to move to the open;
So many shafts flew, where the fólk him beset.
Yet the stoutest at whiles to start did he make,
Till so daunted and fordone, he could dree it no more,
But as hard as he might made off to a hole,
On a bank, by a rock, with the burn beside it;
There, the bank at his back, to scrape he began
With the froth at his chops foaming for fierceness,
And his white tusks whetted; they wounded him still,
Those bowmen so bold, about him that stood,
Till awearied they were, yet they would not him near,
so wroth.
For many his thrusts had borne,
Well seemèd all were loth
Be more with tusks betorn;
He was fierce and frenzied both.
LXIII
Came that
