called.”  With a fierce start the reins he turns, rushes out of the hall-door, his head in his hand, so that the fire of the flint flew from the hoofs of his foal.  To what kingdom he belonged knew none there, nor knew they from whence he had come.  What then?

      “The king and Gawayne there
      At that green (one) they laugh and grin.”

    Though Arthur wondered much at the marvel, he let no one see that he
    was at all troubled about it, but full loudly thus spake to his comely
    queen with courteous speech: 

    “Dear dame, to-day be never dismayed, well happens such craft at
    Christmas time.  I may now proceed to meat, for I cannot deny that I
    have witnessed a wondrous adventure this day” (ll. 440-475).

He looked upon Sir Gawayne and said, “Now, sir, hang up thine axe, for enough has it hewn.”  So the weapon was hung up on high that all might look upon it, and “by true title thereof tell the wonder.”  Then all the knights hastened to their seats at the table, so did the king and our good knight, and they were there served with all dainties, “with all manner of meat and minstrelsy.”

Though words were wanting when they first to seat went, now are their hands full of stern work, and the marvel affords them good subject for conversation.  But a year passes full quickly and never returns,—­the beginning is seldom like the end; wherefore this Christmas passed away and the year after, and each season in turn followed after another (ll. 476-520).  Thus winter winds round again, and then Gawayne thinks of his wearisome journey (ll. 521-535).  On All-hallows day Arthur entertains right nobly the lords and ladies of his court in honour of his nephew, for whom all courteous knights and lovely ladies were in great grief.  Nevertheless they spoke only of mirth, and, though joyless themselves, made many a joke to cheer the good Sir Gawayne (ll. 536-565).  Early on the morrow Sir Gawayne, with great ceremony, is arrayed in his armour (ll. 566-589), and thus completely equipped for his adventure he first hears mass, and afterwards takes leave of Arthur, the knights of the Round Table, and the lords and ladies of the court, who kiss him and commend him to Christ.  He bids them all good day, as he thought, for evermore (ll. 590-669);

      “Very much was the warm water that poured from eyes that day.”

Now rides our knight through the realms of England with no companion but his foal, and no one to hold converse with save God alone.  From Camelot, in Somersetshire, he proceeds through Gloucestershire and the adjoining counties into Montgomeryshire, and thence through North Wales to Holyhead, adjoining the Isle of Anglesea (ll. 670-700), from which he passes into the very narrow peninsula of Wirral, in Cheshire, where dwelt but few that loved God or man.  Gawayne enquires after the Green Knight of the Green Chapel, but all the inhabitants