FYTTE THE THIRD

 Full early before the day the folk arose; the guests that would go called their grooms, and these hastened to saddle the horses, arrange their gear, and truss their mails. The great ones arrayed themselves to ride, leaped up lightly and caught their bridles, each wight on his way where it well pleased him.

The dear lord of the land was not the last; arrayed for the riding, with retainers full many, he ate a sop hastily after he had heard mass, and took his way quickly with his bugle to the field. By the time that any daylight gleamed upon the earth, he with his heroes were mounted on their high horses. Then these hunters that understood it, coupled their hounds, unclosed the kennel doors and called them thereout, blew blithely on bugles three simple calls. At this the brachets43 bayed and made a wild noise, and the hunters chastised and turned back those that wandered off,Ña hundred hunters of the best there were, as I have heard tell. To their stations the trackers went; hunters cast off the couples; and then arose for the good blasts great uproar in that forest.

At the first noise of the quest the game quaked; the deer moved down into the dale, dazed for dread; hurried to the height; but quickly they were hindered by the beaters, who cried stoutly. They let the harts with the high head go their way, the wild bucks also with their broad palms,44 for the generous lord had forbidden that there should any man meddle with the male deer in the close season. But the hinds were held back with ÒHay!Ó and ÒHo!Ó and the does driven with great din to the deep glades. There might one see as they ran the flight of arrows; at each turn under the boughs out flew a shaft, that savagely bit on the brown hide with full broad heads. How they leaped and bled and died by the banks! And ever the hounds with a rush eagerly followed them; hunters with shrill horn hastened after with such a resounding cry as if cliffs had cracked. What game escaped the men who shot was all run down and torn at the stands. The deer 45 were pestered at the heights, and worried at the waters; the people were so alert at the low stations, and the greyhounds so great, that got them quickly and pulled them down as fast as a man could see. The lord, shouting for joy, shot and alighted full oft, and passed the day thus with joy till the dark night.

3. So this lord sports by the eaves of the linden wood, and Gawain the good man lies in his gay bed; reposes till the day light gleams on the walls, under the beautiful coverlets, curtained about. And as he fell into a doze, faintly he heard a little din at the door, then distinctly; and he heaved up his head out of the clothes, caught up a corner of his curtain a little, and watched warily in that direction to see what it might be. It was the lady, loveliest to behold, who drew the door to after her right slyly and quietly, and turned toward the bed. The hero grew bashful and laid himself down cunningly and pretended that he slept. And she stepped quietly, and stole to his bed, cast up the curtain, and crept within, and seated herself full softly on the bedside, and stayed there surprisingly long, to see when he should awake. The man lay pretending a full great while, bothered in his conscience what this affair might mean or amount to. Marvellous it seemed to him. But yet he said to himself, ÒMore seemly would it be to find out by asking what she would.Ó Then he waked, and stretched, and turned to her; unlocked his eyelids, and made believe he was amazed, and crossed himself with his hand, to be the safer for his prayer. With chin and cheek full sweet, of mingled white and red, right lovely she looked, with her small laughing lips.

4. ÒGood morrow, Sir Gawain!Ó said that fair lady. ÒYe are a careless sleeper when one can enter thus. Now ye are certainly taken; unless we can make a truce I shall bind you in your bed, ye may be sure of that!Ó All laughing the lady shot those jests.

ÒGood morrow, fair one,Ó quoth Gawain the blithe. ÒI shall be at your disposal, and that pleases me well, for I yield me outright and pray for grace,Ñand that is the best course, I judge, for I am in straits.Ó And thus he returned the jests with many a blithe laugh. ÒBut would ye, lovely lady, grant me leave, free your prisoner and bid him rise, I would leave this bed and dress myself better. Then I could talk with you in more comfort.Ó

ÒNay, forsooth, fair sir,Ó said that sweet one, Òye shall not rise from your bed; I shall manage you better. I shall tie you up securely,46 and afterwards talk with my knight that I have caught; for I ween well, ye are indeed Sir Gawain, whom all the world worships whereso ye ride. Your honour, your courtesy, is heartily praised, by lords, by ladies, by all alive; and now ye are here, forsooth, and we all alone. My lord and his people are gone far away; the other men in their beds, and my maidens also; the door shut and closed with a strong hasp; and since I have in this house him whom all like, I shall make good use of my time while it lasts. Ye are welcome to my person, to do whatever you wish; I am perforce, and must remain, your servant.Ó

5. ÒIn good faith,Ó quoth Gawain, Òa great privilege it seems to meÑthough I be not now he that ye speak of. To reach such reverence as ye rehearse here, I am a man unworthy, I know well. By God, I should be gladÑif it seemed good to youÑto do what I might in speech or in service to enhance your worship;47Ñit were a pure joy.Ó

ÒIn good faith, Sir Gawain,Ó quoth the gay lady, Òif I should speak ill of the fame and the prowess that pleases all others, or esteem it light, it would show but small discernment.48 But there are ladies enough who were liefer have this courteous one in their powerÑas I have thee here,Ñto dally dearly with your dainty words, to comfort themselves and dispel their cares,Ñthan much of the treasure and gold that they have. But I praise the Lord who rules the skies that through his grace I have wholly in my hand that which all desire.Ó

Great cheer she that was so fair of face made him; the knight with discreet speeches answered her every proposal.

6. ÒMadame,Ó quoth the merry man, ÒMary reward you, for in good faith I have found your generosity noble. People judge a personÕs deeds largely from the accounts of others;49 but the praise that they accord my deserts is but idle. It is simply your own nobility, who know nothing but good.Ó

ÒBy Mary,Ó quoth the gracious one, Òmethinks it is otherwise; for were I worth all the store of women alive, and all the wealth of the world were in my hands, and I should bargain and choose to get me a Lord, then for the good traits that I have found in the knight here, of beauty and graciousness and gay seeming, and from what I have heard before and hold in this case to be true, there should no hero in the world be chosen before you.Ó

ÒIndeed, worthy one,Ó quoth the hero, Òye might50 have chosen much better; but I am proud of the estimation that ye put upon me; and as your devoted servant I hold you my sovereign, and your knight I become; and Christ pay you for it.Ó

Thus they spoke of various things till past the midmorn; and ever the lady behaved as if she loved him much. But the hero fared with caution and made courteous pretences. ÒThough I were the fairest of women,Ó mused the lady, Òlittle love would he show, because of the danger that he seeks without reproachÑthe blow that may slay him, but must needs be undergone.Ó The lady then asked leave, and he granted her full soon.

Then she gave him good day, and of a sudden laughed; and as she stood there she astonished him with right sharp words; ÒNow may he that speeds each speech, pay you for this entertainment; but that ye are Gawain, it goes not in my mind.Ó51

ÒWherefore?Ó quoth the hero; and eagerly he asks, afraid lest he had failed in the performance of his design.52 But the lady blessed him and spake in this wise: ÒA man as good as Gawain is properly heldÑand courtesy is closed so entirely in himÑcould not easily have lingered so long with a lady but he had on some trifling excuse or other53 courteously craved a kiss.Ó

Then said Gawain, ÒIndeed, be it as you like; I shall kiss at your commandment as becomes a knight, and fear54 lest he displease you; so urge that plea no more.Ó She comes nearer at that and takes him in her arms; stoops graciously down and kisses the man. They courteously entrust each other to Christ. She goes forth at the door without more ado, and he prepares to rise, and hurries amain; calls to his chamberlain, chooses his weeds, steps forth blithely to mass when he is ready; and then he goes to his meat, behaving always courteously, and makes merry all day till the bright moon rises. Never was a hero fairer entertained by two such worthy dames, the other and the younger. Much disport they make together.