His ſtrenth, nore was of powar to withſtond;
[3116] So mych of armys dyde he with his honde,
Every wight wonders at his deeds.
That euery wight ferleit of his deid,
And al his fois ſtondith ful of dreid.
So beſely he can his tyme diſpend,
[3120] That of the ſperis wich ſir gawan ſend,
He uses up all Gawane’s spears.
Holl of them all thar was not lewit oñe;
Throw wich but mercy to the deyth is gon