when he grapples with the giant in the green chapel;

of how the strike of the axe must be suffered without struggle.

But sensing her presence there he surfaces from sleep,

drags himself out of his dreams to address her.

Laughing warmly she walks towards him

and finds his face with the friendliest kiss.

In a worthy style he welcomes the woman

and seeing her so lovely and alluringly dressed, 1760

every feature so faultless, her complexion so fine,

a passionate heat takes hold in his heart.

Speech tripped from their tongues and they traded smiles,

and a bond of friendship was forged there, all blissful

and bright.

They talk with tenderness

and pride, and yet their plight

is perilous unless

sweet Mary minds her knight.

For that noble princess pushed him and pressed him, 1770

nudged him ever nearer to a limit where he needed

to allow her love or impolitely reject it.

He was careful to be courteous and avoid uncouthness,

cautious that his conduct might be classed as sinful

and counted as betrayal by the keeper of the castle.

‘I shall not succumb,’ he swore to himself.

With affectionate laughter he fenced and deflected

all the loving phrases which leapt from her lips.

‘You shall bear the blame‚’ said the beautiful one,

‘if you feel no love for the female you lie with, 1780

and wound her, more than anyone on earth, to the heart.

Unless, of course, there is a lady in your life

to whom you are tied and so tightly attached

that you could not begin to break the bond.

So in honesty and trust now tell me the truth;

for the sake of all love, don’t be secretive or speak

with guile.’

‘You judge wrong, by Saint John,’

he said to her, and smiled.

‘There is no other one 1790

and won’t be for a while!’

‘Those words‚’ said the woman, ‘are the worst insult.

But I asked, and you answered, and now I ache.

Kiss me warmly and then I will walk in the world

in mourning like a lady who loved too much.’

Stooping and sighing she kisses him sweetly,

then withdraws from his side, saying as she stands,

‘But before we part will you find me some small favour?

Will you give me some gift – a glove at least,

that might leaven my loss when we meet in my memory?’ 1800

‘Well it were‚’ said Gawain. ‘I wish I had here

my most priceless possession as a present for your sweetness,

for over and over you deserve and are owed

the highest prize I could hope to offer.

But I would not wish on you a worthless token,

and it strikes me as unseemly that you should receive

nothing greater than a glove as a keepsake from Gawain.

I am here on an errand in an unknown land

without men bearing bags of beautiful gifts,

which I greatly regret through my regard for you; 1810

but man must live by his means, and neither mope