XXI

Þaȝ Arþer þe hende kyng at hert hade wonder,

He let no semblaunt be sene, bot sayde ful hyȝe

To þe comlych quene, wyth cortays speche,

"Dere dame, to day demay yow neuer;

Wel by-commes such craft vpon cristmasse,

Laykyng of enterludeȝ, to laȝe & to syng.

Among þise, kynde caroles of knyȝteȝ & ladyeȝ;

Neuer-þe-lece to my mete I may me wel dres,

For I haf sen a selly, I may not for-sake."

He glent vpon sir Gawen, & gaynly he sayde,

"Now sir, heng vp þyn ax, þat hatȝ in-nogh hewen."

& hit watȝ don abof þe dece, on doser to henge,

Þer alle men for meruayl myȝt on hit loke,

& bi trwe tytel þer-of to telle þe wonder.

Þenne þay boȝed to a borde þise burnes to-geder,

Þe kyng & þe gode knyȝt, & kene men hem serued

Of alle dayntyeȝ double, as derrest myȝt falle,

Wyth alle maner of mete & mynstralcie boþe;

Wyth wele walt þay þat day, til worþed an ende,

in londe.
Now þenk wel, sir Gawan,
For woþe þat þou ne wonde,
Þis auenture forto frayn,
Þat þou hatȝ tan on honde.