is known by the name of the endless knot. 630

So it suits this soldier in his spotless armour,

fully faithful in five ways five times over.

For Gawain was as good as the purest gold –

devoid of vices but virtuous, loyal

and kind,

so bore that badge on both

his shawl and shield alike.

A prince who talked the truth.

A notable. A knight.

First he was deemed flawless in his five senses; 640

and secondly his five fingers were never at fault;

and thirdly his faith was founded in the five wounds

Christ received on the cross, as the creed recalls.

And fourthly, if that soldier struggled in skirmish

one thought pulled him through above all other things:

the fortitude he found in the five joys

which Mary had conceived in her son, our Saviour.

For precisely that reason the princely rider

had the shape of her image inside his shield,

so by catching her eye his courage would not crack. 650

The fifth set of five which I heard the knight followed

included friendship and fraternity with fellow men,

purity and politeness that impressed at all times,

and pity, which surpassed all pointedness. Five things

which meant more to Gawain than to most other men.

So these five sets of five were fixed in this knight,

each linked to the last through the endless line,

a five-pointed form which never failed,

never stronger to one side or slack at the other,

but unbroken in its being from beginning to end 660

however its trail is tracked and traced.

So the star on the spangling shield he sported

shone royally, in gold, on a ruby-red background,

the pure pentangle as people have called it

for years.

Then, lance in hand, held high,

and got up in his gear

he bids them all goodbye

one final time, he fears.

Spiked with the spurs the steed sped away 670

with such force that the fire-stones sparked underfoot.

All sighed at the sight, and with sinking hearts

they whispered their worries to one another,

concerned for their comrade. ‘A pity, by Christ,

if a lord so noble should lose his life.

To find his equal on earth would be far from easy.

Cleverer to have acted with caution and care,

deemed him a duke – a title he was due –

a leader of men, lord of many lands;

better that than being battered into oblivion, 680

beheaded by an ogre through headstrong pride.

How unknown for a king to take counsel of a knight

in the grip of an engrossing Christmas game.’

Warm tears welled up in their weepy eyes

as gallant Sir Gawain galloped from court

that day.

He sped from home and hearth

and went his winding way

on steep and snaking paths,

just as the story says. 690

Now through England’s realm he rides and rides,

Sir Gawain, God’s servant, on his grim quest,

passing long dark nights unloved and alone,

foraging to feed, finding little to call food,