47
At že fyrst quethe of že quest quaked že wylde;
Der drof in že dale, doted for drede,
Hi3ed to že hy3e, bot heterly žay were
Restayed with že stablye, žat stoutly ascryed.
Žay let že herttez haf že gate, with že hy3e hedes,
Že breme bukkez also with hor brode paumez;
For že fre lorde hade defende in fermysoun tyme
Žat žer schulde no mon meue to že male dere.
Že hindez were halden in with hay! and war!
Že does dryuen with gret dyn to že depe sladez;
Žer my3t mon se, as žay slypte, slentyng of arwes--
At vche wende vnder wande wapped a flone--
Žat bigly bote on že broun with ful brode hedez.
What! žay brayen, and bleden, bi bonkkez žay de3en,
And ay rachches in a res radly hem fol3es,
Hunterez wyth hy3e horne hasted hem after
Wyth such a crakkande kry as klyffes haden brusten.
What wylde so atwaped wy3es žat schotten
Watz al toraced and rent at že resayt,
Bi žay were tened at že hy3e and taysed to že wattrez;
Že ledez were so lerned at že lo3e trysteres,
And že grehoundez so grete, žat geten hem bylyue
And hem tofylched, as fast as frekez my3t loke,

48
Žus laykez žis lorde by lynde-wodez euez,
And Gawayn že god mon in gay bed lygez,
Lurkkez quyl že dayly3t lemed on že wowes,
Vnder couertour ful clere, cortyned aboute;
And as in slomeryng he slode, sle3ly he herde
A littel dyn at his dor, and dernly vpon;
And he heuez vp his hed out of že cložes,
A corner of že cortyn he ca3t vp a lyttel,
And waytez warly židerwarde quat hit be my3t.
Hit watz že ladi, loflyest to beholde,
Žat dro3 že dor after hir ful dernly and stylle,
And bo3ed towarde že bed; and že burne schamed,
And layde hym doun lystyly, and let as he slepte;
And ho stepped stilly and stel to his bedde,
Kest vp že cortyn and creped withinne,
And set hir ful softly on že bed-syde,
And lenged žere selly longe to loke quen he wakened.
Že lede lay lurked a ful longe quyle,
Compast in his concience to quat žat cace my3t
Meue ožer amount--to meruayle hym žo3t,
Bot 3et he sayde in hymself, 'More semly hit were
To aspye wyth my spelle in space quat ho wolde.'
Žen he wakenede, and wroth, and to hir warde torned,
And vnlouked his y3e-lyddez, and let as hym wondered,
And sayned hym, as bi his sa3e že sauer to worthe,

mauler's (non-verse) translation:

46
Early before dawn the household arose,
Guests that were going sent for their grooms,
Who bustled briskly about to saddle their horses.
Prepare their possessions and pack their bags.
The nobles dressed themselves to ride in rich array,
Mounted up swiftly and seized hold of the reins,
Each man taking the path that appealed to him most.
The beloved lord of that land was not the last
To be ready to ride with the numerous knights;
He had a quick bite to eat after hearing the Mass,
And then blowing his horn, to the hunting-fields he hurried.
By the first hint of daylight in the sky,
He and the others were already on their horses.
Then the handlers capably coupled the hounds,
Unclasped the kennels, and called them out,
By blowing three loud notes on their bugles,
At which the dogs bayed and raised a ruckus,
And they whipped and wheeled any hounds that strayed,
A hundred huntsmen, I heard there were,

47
At the first sound of the hunt, nature trembled.
The deer in the dale, dazed with dread,
Made for the high ground, but fiercely they were
Turned back by the line of beaters, who shouted at them bravely.
They let the harts have the gate, with their tall antlers,
As well as the beautiful young bucks with their broad horns,
For the noble lord had declared it forbidden during that season
For any man to lay hand on a male deer.
The hounds were restrained with cries of `hey' and `whoa'!
The does driven with great din to the deeps of the valley.
There one could see, as they were loosed, arrows flying
Through each turn in the trees twanged a shaft
And deeply bit into the hide with their barbed heads.
Lo! How they brayed and bled and died on the banks,
And always, the hounds rushed forward to follow them closely,
With the hunters, blowing horns, hastening thereafter,
With such a crackling cry like as if cliffs were collapsing.
Those beasts that escaped the men shooting arrows,
Were pulled down and killed by men waiting below,
As they were harassed at the high ground and driven down to the waters.
The men at the lower stations were so well-trained,
And the greyhounds so large, that they seized them quickly
And dragged them down, as fast as the eye could see

48
Thus the lord played under the boughs of the linden-woods,
While Gawain lay in his fine bed,
Snuggled up while the daylight shone on the walls,
Under a splendid coverlet, and surrounded by curtains.
As he lazily dozed, he heard a sly noise,
A small creak at his door, as it stealthily opened.
So he lifted his head from his pillow,
Lifted up a corner of the curtain a little,
And gazed warily to see what it could be.
It was the lady, loveliest to behold,
That drew the door shut behind her, stealthily and silently,
And moved toward the bed. The knight pretended,
And lay down carefully, as if he still slept,
And she tiptoed silently and stole up to his bed,
Lifted up the curtain and crept inside,
And seating herself softly on the bedside,
Lingered there an amazingly long time to see when he would awaken.
The knight lay still for a very long while,
Mulling in his mind what this matter could possibly
Mean or amount to. "How amazing!" he thought,
Yet he said to himself, "It would be more seemly,
To discover her intentions by asking her directly."
So he sat up and stretched and turned toward her,
Opened his eyes, and as if surprised,
Crossed himself, as if by his prayer, to save himself

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