Gawain and the Green Knight

This is my attempt at a form of poetry called ottava rima.

It was the sainted day of the New Year,

And reclining at the rounded table,

Lay lordly Arthur filled with wine and cheer,

Calling for a storied myth or fable;

Suddenly, from the halls there did appear,

A Goliath, naked from the navel,

His skin, his hair, his nails and all between,

Were cadaverous shades of pallid green.

 

"Good sir," he said, in a derisive tone.

"How is about we play a Christmas game?"

"Sir," said Arthur. "Thou art to us unknown.

How is about thee firstly shares thy name?"

The man replied with a short-winded groan,

Then said, "My aim today is not acclaim.

I simply seek to know the hearts of men.

Has Arthur not the heart to play me, then?"

 

Arthur started from the couch, on which he'd lain,

"Sir, I assure thee. I do have the heart."

At this, his gallant nephew, Sir Gawain,

Did from his own plush purple couch upstart,

"Goodly King, let thy hand from blood abstain,

On this sainted day; let my hand play the part!"

Then turning to the giant, the young man said,

"Thou wished to play the king. Play me instead!"

 

The giant hefted up his heavy axe.

"Sir," said he. "The rules of the game are plain.

Show unto me the best of thy attacks.

One blow is allowed, and do not constrain

Thy blow. Now show me how a good sir acts,

When challenged by another knightly thane!"

Said Gawain, "What would thee have in trade,

For me to take thy head with thy own blade?"

 

The man smiled grimly at Gawain and said,

"Precisely in a year and then a day,

Thou wilt seek me and offer thy own head;

Only in this one way canst thou repay,

This solitary chance to strike me dead.

Gallant knight, art thou ready now to play?"

For a minute, Gawain in silence stood,

Then reached and curled his hand about the wood.

As he lifted high the axe, the stranger knelt,

And pulling back his hair, exposed his nape.

The savage blow was sharp and swiftly dealt.

His leonine head tumbled to his cape,

Where it rolled, oozing blood onto the pelt.

Then, in a trice, before it could escape,

The green man bent down and retrieved his head.

Impossibly, the giant was not dead.

 

"Good sir," the giant's writhing lips intoned.

"Meet with me in a year and one day hence."

He placed his head upon his neck and moaned.

Then he departed. The stillness was immense.

The sharp edge of the axe, so finely honed,

Still dripped with blood, defying common sense.

Gawain stood, leaving many words unsaid,

Overwrought by a grim and ghastly dread.

 

Near a year to the day since first they met,

Gawain saddled up his charger by the stable,

Said he to Arthur, "I will pay my debt,

And I will return, if I am still able.

Be not hurried to fill my seat quite yet,

Keep for me my place at the round table."

Then good King Arthur bowed his brow and said,

"Go in haste, and return thee with thy head."

 

Gawain set forth with a countenance grim,

His heart more sullied with each pressing hour;

As he rode on the winter light grew dim,

And as it did his dogged mood turned dour;

Yet he rode on; his charger under him,

Did lend Gawain all his strength and power.

They would not quit, nor would they turn aside:

One for lack of reason and one for pride.

 

After many days of weary riding,

Upon Hutton's Hill, perilous and steep,

Gawain chanced upon a lake dividing,

The stony shoreline from a splendid keep;

He had slumped from his horse and was deciding,

On how he was to cross a lake so deep,

When, from the far side of the out-stretched moat,

Punted a good ferry-man with his boat.

 

"Sir, doest thou wish to go to yonder castle?

Tis the home of the good Lord Bertilak;

For many years have I been his vassal,

Ferrying the odd stranger to and back.

It is nary a burden, chore nor hassle,

To carry you, your beast and all you pack."

Said Gawain, "Take me there to meet the lord.

Now, kindly help me and my horse aboard."

 

Bertilak de Hautedesert was lord,

Of truly a magnificent abode;

He duly set a table and had wine poured;

The best of all his larder he bestowed,

On Gawain, as a hearty hearth-fire roared,

'Til the knight quite forgot the weary road.

Then Gawain, deep into his cups, did start.

"I seek the Green Chapel. I must depart!"

Then Lord Bertilak's friendly laughter rang,

Throughout the hall where they sat reclining,

"The church is but a mile from here, good man,

And you are filled with wine and goodly dining.

Take now a room. Enjoy it while you can,

For our fate is not for our divining."

Gawain acquiesced and was shown to his room,

And slept as if the room had been his tomb.

 

As dawn's light flirted with his chamber floor,

Gawain was roused from slumber by the sound,

Of someone opening his chamber door.

Lady Bertilak, in soft satin gowned,

Approached his bed and, abandoning her mores,

Did tumble free the golden hair that crowned

The pale perfection that she called her face,

And eased into the bed and his embrace.

 

Gawain's kindly heart sunk within his breast,

As her rude crimson lips locked with his own.

"Woman, who sent thee to be my temptress?

Surely naught will be gained. Leave me alone."

The mistress did look down upon her guest,

And said, "You are the first that I have known,

To turn aside from laying in these arms,

And indulging thy passion for my charms."

 

Gawain mused on his fate as he did pass,

Under the arches of the Chapel Green.

He bowed his head, but purpose held him fast;

He would brace his neck for an axe most keen,

For his future had like a die been cast,

Upon that day a year and one day been.

He was a man assenting to his fate,

Trusting the life hereafter did await.

 

The green ghastly giant stood by the altar,

To claim the grisly debt that he was owed,

Gawain neither stopped, nor stayed, nor faltered,

But walked up to where the giant stood, and bowed

His head upon the stone of the altar,

The fear eating through his mind never showed.

He was stoic while the green giant raised his axe,

And steeled himself to yield to the attack.

 

The axe fell, but barely grazed his neck.

Gawain looked up, and to his great surprise,

There stood his host, the good Lord Bertilak;

The green giant had been a magic guise.

"Until now," said he, "none has made it back,

From my test, for I hate deceit and lies.

You, and you alone, have passed the test.

Give my regards to Arthur and the rest."