XV.

He assures the knight that no one is afraid of his great words.

Ande sayde, "haþel, by heuen þyn askyng is nys,

& as þou foly hatȝ frayst, fynde þe be-houes;

I know no gome þat is gast of þy grete wordes.

Gif me now þy geserne, vpon godeȝ halue,

& I schal bayþen þy bone, þat þou boden habbes."

Lyȝtly lepeȝ he hym to, & laȝt at his honde;

Þen feersly þat oþer freke vpon fote lyȝtis.

Now hatȝ Arthure his axe, & þe halme grypeȝ,

& sturnely stureȝ hit aboute, þat stryke wyth hit þoȝt.

Þe stif mon hym bifore stod vpon hyȝt,

Herre þen ani in þe hous by þe hede & more;

Wyth sturne schere¹ þer he stod, he stroked his berde,

& wyth a countenaunce dryȝe he droȝ doun his cote,

No more mate ne dismayd for hys mayn dinteȝ,

Þen any burne vpon bench hade broȝt hym to drynk

of wyne,

Gawan, þat sate bi þe quene,

To þe kyng he can enclyne,

"I be-seche now with saȝeȝ sene,

Þis melly mot be myne."

¹ chere (?).