[Sidenote A:  Fear kept all silent.] [Sidenote B:  The knight rolled his red eyes about,] [Sidenote C:  and bent his bristly green brows.] [Sidenote D:  Waving his beard awhile, he exclaimed:] [Sidenote E:  “What! is this Arthur’s court?] [Sidenote F:  Forsooth the renown of the Round Table is overturned ’with a
  word of one man’s speech.’”]
[Sidenote G:  Arthur blushes for shame.] [Sidenote H:  He waxes as wroth as the wind.]

XV.

[A] Ande sayde, “haþel, by heuen þyn askyng is nys,
324 & 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.”
328 Ly3tly lepe3 he hym to, & la3t at his honde; [Fol. 95b.]
Þen feersly þat oþer freke vpon fote ly3tis.
[B] Now hat3 Arthure his axe, & þe halme grype3,
& sturnely sture3 hit aboute, þat stryke wyth hit þo3t.
332 Þe stif mon hym bifore stod vpon hy3t,
Herre þen ani in þe hous by þe hede & more;
[C] Wyth sturne schere[1] þer he stod, he stroked his berde,
& wyth a countenaunce dry3e he dro3 doun his cote,
336 No more mate ne dismayd for hys mayn dinte3,
Þen any burne vpon bench hade bro3t hym to drynk
of wyne,
[D] Gawan, þat sate bi þe quene,
340 To þe kyng he can enclyne,
“I be-seche now with sa3e3 sene,
Þis melly mot be myne.”

[Sidenote A:  He assures the knight that no one is afraid of his great
  words.]
[Sidenote B:  Arthur seizes his axe.] [Sidenote C:  The knight, stroking his beard, awaits the blow, and with a
  “dry countenance” draws down his coat.]
[Sidenote D:  Sir Gawayne beseeches the king to let him undertake the blow.] [Footnote 1:  chere (?).]

XVI.

“Wolde 3e, worþilych lorde,” quod Gawan to þe kyng,
344 [A] “Bid me bo3e fro þis benche, & stonde by yow þere,
Þat I wyth-oute vylanye my3t voyde þis table,
& þat my legge lady lyked not ille,
I wolde com to your counseyl, bifore your cort ryche.
348 [B] For me þink hit not semly, as hit is soþ knawen,
Þer such an askyng is heuened so hy3e in your sale,
Þa33e 3our-self be talenttyf to take hit to your-seluen,
[C] Whil mony so bolde yow aboute vpon bench sytten,
352 Þat vnder heuen, I hope, non ha3er er of wylle,
Ne better bodyes on bent, þer baret is rered;
[D] I am þe wakkest, I wot, and of wyt feblest,
& lest lur of my lyf, quo laytes þe soþe,
356 Bot for as much as 3e ar myn em, I am only to prayse,
No bounte bot your blod I in my bode knowe;
& syþen þis note is so nys, þat no3t hit yow falles,
& I haue frayned hit at yow fyrst, folde3 hit to me,
360 & if I carp not comlyly, let alle þis cort rych,
bout blame.”
[E] Ryche to-geder con roun,
& syþen þay redden alle same,
364 To ryd þe kyng wyth croun,
& gif Gawan þe game.