XXI

Þa3 Arþer þe hende kyng at hert hade wonder,

He let no semblaunt be sene, bot sayde ful hy3e

To þe comlych quene, wyth cortays speche,

"Dere dame, to day demay yow neuer;

Wel by-commes such craft vpon cristmasse,

Laykyng of enterlude3, to la3e & to syng.

Among þise, kynde caroles of kny3te3 & ladye3;

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 hat3 in-nogh hewen."

& hit wat3 don abof þe dece, on doser to henge,

Þer alle men for meruayl my3t on hit loke,

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

Þenne þay bo3ed to a borde þise burnes to-geder,

Þe kyng & þe gode kny3t, & kene men hem serued

Of alle dayntye3 double, as derrest my3t 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 hat3 tan on honde.