The knight thence pursues his journey by strange paths, over hill and moor, encountering on his way not only serpents, wolves, bulls, bears, and boars, but wood satyrs and giants.  But worse than all those, however, was the sharp winter, “when the cold clear water shed from the clouds, and froze ere it might fall to the earth.  Nearly slain with the sleet he slept in his armour, more nights than enough, in naked rocks” (ll. 701-729).

Thus in peril and plight the knight travels on until Christmas-eve, and to Mary he makes his moan that she may direct him to some abode.  On the morn he arrives at an immense forest, wondrously wild, surrounded by high hills on every side, where he found hoary oaks full huge, a hundred together.  The hazel and the hawthorn intermingled were all overgrown with moss, and upon their boughs sat many sad birds that piteously piped for pain of the cold.  Gawayne besought the Lord and Mary to guide him to some habitation where he might hear mass (ll. 730-762).  Scarcely had he crossed himself thrice, when he perceived a dwelling in the wood set upon a hill.  It was the loveliest castle he had ever beheld.  It was pitched on a prairie, with a park all about it, enclosing many a tree for more than two miles.  It shone as the sun through the bright oaks (ll. 763-772).

    Gawayne urges on his steed Gringolet, and finds himself at the “chief
    gate.”  He called aloud, and soon there appeared a “porter” on the wall,
    who demanded his errand.

    “Good sir,” quoth Gawayne, “wouldst thou go to the high lord of this
    house, and crave a lodging for me?”

    “Yea, by Peter!” replied the porter, “well I know that thou art welcome
    to dwell here as long as thou likest.”

The drawbridge is soon let down, and the gates opened wide to receive the knight.  Many noble ones hasten to bid him welcome (ll. 773-825).  They take away his helmet, sword, and shield, and many a proud one presses forward to do him honour.  They bring him into the hall, where a fire was brightly burning upon the hearth.  Then the lord of the land[1] comes from his chamber and welcomes Sir Gawayne, telling him that he is to consider the place as his own.  Our knight is next conducted to a bright bower, where was noble bedding—­curtains of pure silk, with golden hems, and Tarsic tapestries upon the walls and the floors (ll. 826-859).  Here the knight doffed his armour and put on rich robes, which so well became him, that all declared that a more comely knight Christ had never made (ll. 860-883).

      [Footnote 1:  Gawayne is now in the castle of the Green Knight, who,
      divested of his elvish or supernatural character, appears to our
      knight merely as a bold one with a beaver-hued beard.]