A table is soon raised, and Gawayne, having washed, proceeds to meat.  Many dishes are set before him—­“sews” of various kinds, fish of all kinds, some baked in bread, others broiled on the embers, some boiled, and others seasoned with spices.  The knight expresses himself well pleased, and calls it a most noble and princely feast.

After dinner, in reply to numerous questions, he tells his host that he is Gawayne, one of the Knights of the Round Table.  When this was made known great was the joy in the hall.  Each one said softly to his companion, “Now we shall see courteous behaviour and learn the terms of noble discourse, since we have amongst us ’that fine father of nurture.’  Truly God has highly favoured us in sending us such a noble guest as Sir Gawayne” (ll. 884-927).  At the end of the Christmas festival Gawayne desires to take his departure from the castle, but his host persuades him to stay, promising to direct him to the Green Chapel (about two miles from the castle), that he may be there by the appointed time (ll. 1029-1082).

A covenant is made between them, the terms of which were that the lord of the castle should go out early to the chase, that Gawayne meanwhile should lie in his loft at his ease, then rise at his usual hour, and afterwards sit at table with his hostess, and that at the end of the day they should make an exchange of whatever they might obtain in the interim.  “Whatever I win in the wood,” says the lord, “shall be yours, and what thou gettest shall be mine” (ll. 1083-1125).

Full early before daybreak the folk uprise, saddle their horses, and truss their mails.  The noble lord of the land, arrayed for riding, eats hastily a sop, and having heard mass, proceeds with a hundred hunters to hunt the wild deer (ll. 1126-1177).

All this time Gawayne lies in his gay bed.  His nap is disturbed by a little noise at the door, which is softly opened.  He heaves up his head out of the clothes, and, peeping through the curtains, beholds a most lovely lady (the wife of his host).  She came towards the bed, and the knight laid himself down quickly, pretending to be asleep.  The lady stole to the bed, cast up the curtains, crept within, sat her softly on the bed-side, and waited some time till the knight should awake.  After lurking awhile under the clothes considering what it all meant, Gawayne unlocked his eyelids, and put on a look of surprise, at the same time making the sign of the cross, as if afraid of some hidden danger (ll. 1178-1207).  “Good morrow, sir,” said that fair lady, “ye are a careless sleeper to let one enter thus.  I shall bind you in your bed, of that be ye sure.”  “Good morrow,” quoth Gawayne, “I shall act according to your will with great pleasure, but permit me to rise that I may the more comfortably converse with you.”  “Nay, beau sir,” said that sweet one, “ye shall not rise from your bed, for since I have caught my knight I shall