X.
Then cried he aloud, 2212
Thenne þe kny3t con calle ful hy3e,
"Who sti3tle3 in þis sted, me steuen to holde?
For now is gode Gawayn goande ry3t here,
If any wy3e o3t wyl wynne hider fast,
Oþer now, oþer neuer, his nede3 to spede."
"Abyde," quod on on þe bonke, abouen ouer his hede,
"& þou schal haf al in hast, þat I þe hy3t ones."
3et he rusched on þat rurde, rapely a þrowe,
& wyth quettyng a-wharf, er he wolde ly3t;
& syþen he keuere3 bi a cragge, & come3 of a hole,
Whyrlande out of a wro, wyth a felle weppen,
A dene3 ax nwe dy3t, þe dynt with [t]o 3elde
With a borelych bytte, bende by þe halme,
Fyled in a fylor, fowre fote large,
Hit wat3 no lasse, bi þat lace þat lemed ful bry3t.
& þe gome in þe erene gered as fyrst,
Boþe þe lyre & þe legge3, lokke3, & berde,
Saue þat fayre on his fote he founde3 on þe erþe,
Sette þe stele to þe stone, & stalked bysyde.
When he wan to þe watter, þer he wade nolde,
He hypped ouer on hys ax, & orpedly stryde3,
Bremly broþe on a bent, þat brode wat3 a-boute,
on snawe.
Sir Gawayn þe kny3t con mete.
He ne lutte hym no þyng lowe,
Þat oþer sayde, "now, sir swete,
Of steuen mon may þe trowe."