XVIII.
"It pleases me well, Sir Gawayne," says the Green Knight, "that I shall receive a blow from thy fist; but thou must swear that thou wilt seek me,
"Bigog," quod þe grene kny3t, "sir Gawan, melykes,
Þat I schal fange at þy fust þat I haf frayst here;
& þou hat3 redily rehersed, bi resoun ful trwe,
Clanly al þe couenaunt þat I þe kynge asked,
Saf þat þou schal siker me, segge, bi þi trawþe,
Þat þou schal seche me þi-self, where-so þou hopes
I may be funde vpon folde, & foch þe such wages
As þou deles me to day, bifore þis douþe ryche."
"Where schulde I wale þe," quod Gauan, "where is þy place?
I wot neuer where þou wonyes, bi hym þat me wro3t,
Ne I know not þe, kny3t, þy cort, ne þi name.
Bot teche me truly þer-to, & telle me howe þou hattes,
& I schal ware alle my wyt to wynne me þeder,
& þat I swere þe for soþe, & by my seker traweþ."
"Þat is in-nogh in nwe 3er, hit nedes no more,"
Quod þe gome in þe grene to Gawan þe hende,
"3if I þe telle trwly, quen I þe tape haue,
& þou me smoþely hat3 smyten, smartly I þe teche
Of my hous, & my home, & myn owen nome,
Þen may þou frayst my fare, & forwarde3 holde,
& if I spende no speche, þenne spede3 þou þe better,
For þou may leng in þy londe, & layt no fyrre,
bot slokes;
Ta now þy grymme tole to þe,
& let se how þou cnoke3."
"Gladly sir, for soþe,"
Quod Gawan; his ax he strokes.