by W. S. Merwin
For you have surely deserved, many times over,
More than anything I might have given you.
But a token of love would not amount to much.
It would afford you no honor, now, to have
A glove to treasure, as a gift from Gawain,
And I am here on an errand in an unknown land
And have no porters with packs full of precious things,
Which I regret at this moment, lady, because of your love.
Each man can do only so much, and it is no use complaining.”
“No, most honored knight,”
Said she of the fair body,
“Though I have nothing from you yet,
You should have something from me.”
She held out to him a handsome ring wrought of red gold
With a shining stone standing up out of it,
Its radiant beams like the bright sun.
You can be sure it was worth a great fortune.
But the knight refused it at once, saying,
“Before God, lady, I want no gifts at this time.
I haf none yow to norne, ne noзt wyl I take.’
Ho bede hit hym ful bysily, and he hir bode wernes,
And swere swyfte by his sothe þat he hit sese nolde, 1825
And ho soré þat he forsoke, and sayde þerafter,
‘If зe renay my rynk, to ryche for hit semez,
Зe wolde not so hyзly halden be to me,
I schal gif yow my girdel, þat gaynes yow lasse.’
Ho laзt a lace lyзtly þat leke vmbe hir sydez, 1830
Knit vpon hir kyrtel vnder þe clere mantyle,
Gered hit watz with grene sylke and with golde schaped,
Noзt bot arounde brayden, beten with fyngrez;
And þat ho bede to þe burne, and blyþely bisoзt,
Þaз hit vnworþi were, þat he hit take wolde. 1835
And he nay þat he nolde neghe in no wyse
Nauþer golde ne garysoun, er God hym grace sende
To acheue to þe chaunce þat he hade chosen þere.
‘And þerfore, I pray yow, displese yow noзt,
And lettez be your bisinesse, for I bayþe hit yow neuer to graunte; 1840
I am derely to yow biholde
Bicause of your sembelaunt,
And euer in hot and colde
To be your trwe seruaunt.' 1845
‘Now forsake зe þis silke,’ sayde þe burde þenne,
‘For hit is symple in hitself? And so hit wel semez.
Lo! so hit is littel, and lasse hit is worþy;
Bot who-so knew þe costes þat knit ar þerinne,
He wolde hit prayse at more prys, parauenture; 1850
For quat gome so is gorde with þis grene lace,
While he hit hade hemely halched aboute,
Þer is no haþel vnder heuen tohewe hym þat myзt,
I have none to offer you and I will take none.”
She pressed him further but he would not accept it,
Swearing upon his honor that he would not have it.
And she was sad that he refused it, and finally said,
“If you will not take my ring because it seems too costly
And you do not want to be so deeply indebted to me,
I will give you my belt, which may not seem so precious to you.”
With a flick she undid a knot fastened at her waist,
Tied around her tunic under the bright mantle.
It was covered with green silk and embroidered with gold
All around the edges, and with gold fringes,
And with all her graces she offered that to the knight,
Urging him to take it, unworthy though it was,
But he insisted that he would not, for any reason,
Accept gold or gift until God had given him
The grace to achieve the mission he had followed that far.
“And therefore I beg you not to be offended
But give up your offers, for I can never accept them.
I am deeply indebted to you
For the graces you have shown me,
And will be a true servant to you
Whatever season it may be.”
“Do you refuse this silk now,” the lady said then,
“Because it seems such a slight thing, in itself?
It is true, it is little, and does not look like much,
But anyone who knew the powers bound up in it
Perhaps would hold it in higher esteem.
For if a man has this green belt fastened around him,
As long as it is knotted about his waist
There is no knight under heaven who can cut him down,
For he myзt not be slayn for slyзt vpon erþe.’
Þen kest þe knyзt, and hit come to his hert 1855
Hit were a juel for þe jopardé þat hym iugged were:
When he acheued to þe chapel his chek for to fech,
Myзt he haf slypped to be vnslayn, þe sleзt were noble.
Þenne he þulged with hir þrepe and þoled hir to speke,
And ho bere on hym þe belt and bede hit hym swyþe— 1860
And he granted and hym gafe with a goud wylle—
And bisoзt hym, for hir sake, disceuer hit neuer,
Bot to lelly layne fro hir lorde; þe leude hym acordez
Þat neuer wyзe schulde hit wyt, iwysse, bot þay twayne for noзte; 1865
He þonkked hir oft ful swyþe,
Ful þro with hert and þoзt.
Bi þat on þrynne syþe
Ho hatz kyst þe knyзt so toзt.
Thenne lachchez ho hir leue, and leuez hym þere, 1870
For more myrþe of þat mon moзt ho not gete.
When ho watz gon, Sir Gawayn gerez hym sone,
Rises and riches hym in araye noble,
Lays vp þe luf-lace þe lady hym raзt,
Hid hit ful holdely, þer he hit eft fonde. 1875
Syþen cheuely to þe chapel choses he þe waye,
Preuély aproched to a prest, and prayed hym þere
Þat he wolde lyste his lyf and lern hym better
How his sawle schulde be saued when he schuld seye heþen.
Þere he schrof hym schyrly and schewed his mysdedez, 1880
Of þe more and þe mynne, and merci besechez,
And of absolucioun he on þe segge calles;
And he asoyled hym surely and sette hym so clene
As domezday schulde haf ben diзt on þe morn.
And there is no cunning on earth that can kill him.”
This made the knight reflect, and went to his heart.
It would be a jewel for the jeopardy just ahead of him
When he arrived at the Green Chapel to be dealt his fate.
If it could keep him from being killed, it was a noble device.
Then he waited to hear what else she might say to him
And she pled with him to take the belt, urging it upon him
Until he accepted it, and she was glad to give it
And begged him for her sake to keep it secret,
And never let her lord learn of it, and the knight agreed
That no one should know of it, indeed, but the two of them, whatever might happen.
He thanked her warmly
With all his heart and thought.
And then three times she
Kissed that brave knight.
Then she turns from him and leaves him there
Since she would have no more pleasure with that man.
When she was gone, Gawain puts on his garments.
He gets up and arrays himself in noble attire,
Hides away the love-belt the lady had given him,
Carefully concealing it where he would find it later.
Then at once he made his way to the chapel,
Went to a priest privately and begged him there
To lift up his life and teach him to be better
So that his soul would be saved
when he saw heaven.
There he confessed completely and said what his sins were,
The great and the small, and pled for mercy,
Calling upon the priest to grant him absolution,
And the priest absolved him altogether so he would be clean
Though the next dawn revealed the day of judgment.
And syþen he mace hym as mery among þe fre ladyes, 1885
With comlych caroles and alle kynnes ioye,
As neuer he did bot þat daye, to þe derk nyзt, with blys.
Vche mon hade daynté þare
Of hym, and sayde, ‘Iwysse, 1890
Þus myry he watz neuer are,
Syn he com hider, er þis.’
Now hym lenge in þat lee, þer luf hym bityde!
Зet is þe lorde on þe launde ledande his gomnes.
He hatz forfaren þis fox þat he folзed longe; 1895
As he sprent ouer a spenne to spye þe schrewe,
Þer as he herd þe howndes þat hasted hym swyþe,
Renaud com richchande þurз a roзe greue,
And alle þe rabel in a res ryзt at his helez.
Þe wyзe watz war of þe wylde, and warly abides, 1900
And braydez out þe bryзt bronde, and at þe best castez.
And he schunt for þe scharp, and schulde haf arered;
A rach rapes hym to, ryзt er he myзt,
And ryзt bifore þe hors fete þay fel on hym alle,
And woried me þis wyly wyth a wroth noyse. 1905
Þe lorde lyзtez bilyue, and lachez hym sone,
Rased hym ful radly out of þe rach mouþes,
Haldez heзe ouer his hede, halowez faste,
And þer bayen hym mony braþ houndez.
Huntes hyзed hem þeder with hornez ful mony, 1910
Ay rechatande aryзt til þay þe renk seзen.
Bi þat watz comen his compeyny noble,
Alle þat euer ber bugle blowed at ones,
And alle þise oþer halowed þat hade no hornes;
Then he joined the amusements among the court ladie
With graceful dances and pleasures of all kinds,
And more than any day he had known, until the dark night, he was happy.
And he raised everyone's
Spirits so that they said
They had not seen him, since
He came there, in such a merry mood.
Now let him linger in that haven, and love be with him!
While the lord is still out in the field leading his men.
He has killed this fox that he followed for so long.
As he leapt over a thorn hedge, looking for the villain,
Hearing the hounds that were hard on his heels,
Reynard comes dashing out of a dense thicket
And all the rabble in a rush behind him.
The lord saw the wild creature and waited and was ready
And he draws the bright sword and slashes at the beast,
Who shies at the stroke and tries to turn back,
But a hound is before him and heads him off.
And right before the horse's hooves they all fell on him
With a roar of rage, mauling that cunning creature.
The lord leaps to the ground and seizes him,
Snatches him right up out of the hounds' mouths,
Holds him high over his head with a loud shout
Above all the hounds baying at him in fury.
The hunters rushed toward him, all sounding their horns,
Rallying the rest until they caught sight of him.
Then when that noble company was assembled,
All who had bugles blew them at once,
And the others all shouted, who had no horns.
Hit watz þe myriest mute þat euer men herde, 1915
Þe rich rurd þat þer watz raysed for Renaude saule with lote.
Hor houndez þay þer rewarde,
Her hedez þay fawne and frote,
And syþen þay tan Reynarde, 1920
And tyruen of his cote.
And þenne þay helden to home, for hit watz nieз nyзt,
Strakande ful stoutly in hor store hornez.
Þe lorde is lyзt at þe laste at hys lef home,
Fyndez fire vpon flet, þe freke þer-byside, 1925
Sir Gawayn þe gode, þat glad watz withalle,
Among þe ladies for luf he ladde much ioye;
He were a bleaunt of blwe þat bradde to þe erþe,
His surkot semed hym wel þat softe watz forred,
And his hode of þat ilke henged on his schulder, 1930
Blande al of blaunner were boþe al aboute.
He metez me þis godmon inmyddez þe flore,
And al with gomen he hym gret, and goudly he sayde,
‘I schal fylle vpon fyrst oure forwardez nouþe,
Þat we spedly han spoken, þer spared watz no drynk.’
Þen acoles he þe knyзt and kysses hym þryes, 1936
As sauerly and sadly as he hem sette couþe.
‘Bi Kryst,’ quoþ þat oþer knyзt, ‘Зe cach much sele
In cheuisaunce of þis chaffer, зif зe hade goud chepez.’
‘Зe, of þe chepe no charg,’ quoþ chefly þat oþer, 1940
‘As is pertly payed þe chepez þat I aзte.’
‘Mary,’ quoþ þat oþer mon, ‘myn is bihynde,
For I haf hunted al þis day, and noзt haf I geten
Bot þis foule fox felle—þe fende haf þe godez!—
It was the merriest uproar that ever man heard,
The resounding din they raised, the racket for Reynard's soul.
They give the hounds their reward,
Pet them and praise them,
And then they take Reynard
And strip his coat from him.
And then they start home, for it is nearly night,
Blowing loudly on their horns as they go.
The lord alights at last, happy to be home
With a fire in the hall and the knight waiting beside it,
The good Sir Gawain, who was in high spirits
Among the ladies, and their loving entertainments.
He was wearing a rich blue mantle that reached to the ground.
His outer cloak lined with soft fur suited him perfectly,
And his hood which was like it hung over his shoulders,
Both trimmed all around with borders of white fur.
He meets this good man in the middle of the floor
And greets him and the others, and says to him, smiling,
“I shall begin by fulfilling our agreement
That we sealed, to suit us both, when the drink was not spared,”
Then he embraces the knight and kisses him three times
As sweetly and earnestly as he could manage.
“By Christ,” said the other knight, “you have done well
In the prize you have taken, if the price was right.”
“Never mind the price,” the other said,
“As long as I paid the earnings I owed.”
“Mary,” the other man said, “mine is far short of yours,
For I have hunted all day and taken nothing
But this foul fox pelt—the devil take it!—
And þat is ful pore for to pay for suche prys þinges 1945
As зe haf þryзt me here þro, suche þre cosses so gode.’
‘Inoз,’ quoþ Sir Gawayn
‘I þonk yow, bi þe rode',
And how þe fox watz slayn 1950
He tolde hym as þay stode.
With merþe and mynstralsye, wyth metez at hor wylle,
Þay maden as mery as any men moзten—
With laзyng of ladies, with lotez of bordes
Gawayn and þe godemon so glad were þay boþe— 1955
Bot if þe douthe had doted, oþer dronken ben oþer.
Boþe þe mon and þe meyny maden mony iapez,
Til þe sesoun watz seзen þat þay seuer moste;
Burnez to hor bedde behoued at þe laste.
Þenne loзly his leue at þe lorde fyrst 1960
Fochchez þis fre mon, and fayre he hym þonkkez:
‘Of such a selly soiorne as I haf hade here,
Your honour at þis hyзe fest, þe hyзe fest, þ hyзe yow зelde!
I зef yow me for on of yourez, if yowreself lykez,
For I mot nedes, as зe wot, meue to-morne, 1965
And зe me take sum tolke to teche, as зe hyзt,
Þe gate to þe grene chapel, as God wyl me suffer
To dele on Nw Зerez day þe dome of my wyrdes.’
‘In god fayþe,’ quoþ þe godmon, ‘wyth a goud wylle
Al þat euer I yow hyзt halde schal I redé.' 1970
Þer asyngnes he a seruaunt to sett hym in þe waye,
And coundue hym by þe downez, þat he no drechch had,
For to ferk þurз þe fryth and fare at þe gaynest bi greue.
Which is pitiful repayment for such precious things
As you have pressed on me so warmly here, three such good kisses.”
“Enough,” said Sir Gawain,
“I thank you, by the Rood.”
And how the fox was slain
He told him, there as they stood.
With amusements and minstrelsy and as much asthey could eat
They celebrated as merrily as ever men might—
Unless they were dunces or hopelessly drunk—
With the laughter of ladies, and turns of wit.
Gawain and the good man were both in high humor.
The knight and all of them joined in the merrymaking
Until it was time for them to separate,
And for all of them to be off to their own beds.
Then this noble knight humbly takes his leave, first,
Of the lord there, thanking him gracefully,
“For the lavish visit that I have had here
And your courtesy at this high feast, may the high king reward you.
I offer myself as one of your own, if that would please you,
But as you know, I must be gone by tomorrow,
And I ask you for a knight to show me, as you promised,
The way to the Green Chapel, so that God may let me
Fulfill my fate there on New Year's Day.”
“In good faith,” the good man said, “with a good will,
All that ever I promised you I will have ready.”
At that he assigns a servant to put him on the path
And lead him over the hills so that he would have no trouble
Riding in the woods and finding the right way through the thickets.
Þe lorde Gawayn con þonk, 1975
