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 hat3 frayst, fynde þe be-houes;

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

Gif me now þy geserne, vpon gode3 halue,

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

Ly3tly lepe3 he hym to, & la3t at his honde;

Þen feersly þat oþer freke vpon fote ly3tis.

Now hat3 Arthure his axe, & þe halme grype3,

& sturnely sture3 hit aboute, þat stryke wyth hit þo3t.

Þe stif mon hym bifore stod vpon hy3t,

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

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

& wyth a countenaunce dry3e he dro3 doun his cote,

No more mate ne dismayd for hys mayn dinte3,

Þen any burne vpon bench hade bro3t hym to drynk

of wyne,

Gawan, þat sate bi þe quene,

To þe kyng he can enclyne,

"I be-seche now with sa3e3 sene,

Þis melly mot be myne."

¹ chere (?).