XII.
Then the man in green seizes his grim tool.
Then þe gome in þe grene grayþed hym swyþe,
Gedere3 yp hys grymme tole, Gawayn to smyte;
With alle þe bur in his body he ber hit on lofte,
Munt as ma3tyly, as marre hym he wolde;
Hade hit dryuen adoun, as dre3 as he atled,
Þer hade ben ded of his dynt, þat do3ty wat3 euer.
Bot Gawayn on þat giserne glyfte hym bysyde,
As hit com glydande adoun, on glode hym to schende,
& schranke a lytel with þe schulderes, for þe scharp yrne.
Þat oþer schalk wyth a schunt þe schene wythhalde3,
& þenne repreued he þe prynce with mony prowde worde3:
"Þou art not Gawayn," quod þe gome, "þat is so goud halden,
Þat neuer ar3ed for no here, by hylle ne be vale,
& now þou fles for ferde, er þou fele harme3;
Such cowardise of þat kny3t cowþe I neuer here.
Nawþer fyked I, ne fla3e, freke, quen þou myntest,
Ne kest no kauelacion, in kynge3 hous Arthor,
My hede fla3 to my fote, & 3et fla3 I neuer;
& þou, er any harme hent, ar3e3 in hert,
Wherfore þe better burne me burde be called
þer-fore."
Quod G:, "I schunt one3,
& so wyl I no more,
Bot pa3 my hede falle on þe stone3,
I con not hit restore.