{Middle English Version}

Wyle Nw 3er watz so 3ep žat hit watz nwe cummen,
Žat day doubble on že dece watz že douth serued.
Fro že kyng watz cummen with kny3tes into že halle,
Že chauntré of že chapel cheued to an ende,
Loude crye watz žer kest of clerkez and ožer,
1Nowel nayted onewe, neuened ful ofte;
And syžen riche forth runnen to reche hondeselle,
3e3ed 3eres-3iftes on hi3, 3elde hem bi hond,
Debated busyly aboute žo giftes;
Ladies la3ed ful loude, žo3 žay lost haden,
And he žat wan watz not wrothe, žat may 3e wel trawe.
Alle žis mirže žay maden to že mete tyme;
When žay had waschen woržyly žay wenten to sete,
Že best burne ay abof, as hit best semed,
Whene Guenore, ful gay, grayžed in že myddes,
Dressed on že dere des, dubbed al aboute,
Smal sendal bisides, a selure hir ouer
Of tryed tolouse, and tars tapites innoghe,
Žat were enbrawded and beten wyth že best gemmes
Žat my3t be preued of prys wyth penyes to bye,

in daye.

Že comlokest to discrye
Žer glent with y3en gray,
A semloker žat euer he sy3e
Soth mo3t no mon say.

Bot Arthure wolde not ete til al were serued,
He watz so joly of his joyfnes, and sumquat childgered:
His lif liked hym ly3t, he louied že lasse
Aužer to longe lye or to longe sitte,
So bisied him his 3onge blod and his brayn wylde.
And also an ožer maner meued him eke
Žat he žur3 nobelay had nomen, he wolde neuer ete
Vpon such a dere day er hym deuised were
Of sum auenturus žyng an vncouže tale,
Of sum mayn meruayle, žat he my3t trawe,
Of alderes, of armes, of ožer auenturus,
Ožer sum segg hym biso3t of sum siker kny3t
To joyne wyth hym in iustyng, in jopardé to lay,
Lede, lif for lyf, leue vchon ožer,
As fortune wolde fulsun hom, že fayrer to haue.
Žis watz že kynges countenaunce where he in court were,
At vch farand fest among his fre meny

in halle.

Žerfore of face so fere
He sti3tlez stif in stalle,
Ful 3ep in žat Nw 3ere
Much mirthe he mas withalle.

Thus žer stondes in stale že stif kyng hisseluen,
Talkkande bifore že hy3e table of trifles ful hende.
There gode Gawan watz grayžed Gwenore bisyde,
And Agrauayn a la dure mayn on žat ožer syde sittes,
Bože že kynges sistersunes and ful siker kni3tes;
Bischop Bawdewyn abof biginez že table,
And Ywan, Vryn son, ette with hymseluen.
Žise were di3t on že des and derworžly serued,
And sižen mony siker segge at že sidbordez.
Žen že first cors come with crakkyng of trumpes,
Wyth mony baner ful bry3t žat žerbi henged;
Nwe nakryn noyse with že noble pipes,
Wylde werbles and wy3t wakned lote,
Žat mony hert ful hi3e hef at her towches.
Dayntés dryuen žerwyth of ful dere metes,
Foysoun of že fresche, and on so fele disches
Žat pine to fynde že place že peple biforne
For to sette že sylueren žat sere sewes halden

on clothe.

Iche lede as he loued hymselue
Žer laght withouten lože;
Ay two had disches twelue,
Good ber and bry3t wyn bože.

mauler's (non-verse) translation:

4
When New Years was so young that it had barely come,
That day double the feast was doled out on the dais.
When the king came with knights into the hall,
The chants of the chapel achieved their end.
Loud was the cry of the clergymen and all the others,
"Noel" sung anew, and named repeatedly.
And then the royals rushed to retrieve their presents,
Held their gifts high and handed them around,
And debated animatedly about those gifts;
Ladies laughed out loud, though they lost a game,
And he that won was not at all wrathful at this, as you may well understand!
All this mirth they made until it was time for meat;
Once they had washed as was worthy they went to dine.
The best bred sat above the rest, as befitting,
While Guinevere, quite gaily graced the middle,
Seated on the splendid dais, adorned all about
With fine silk on all sides and a canopy overhead
Of costly Toulouse and Turkish tapestries
That were embroidered and beset with the best of gems
Prized beyond price even by those with pennies enough to pay

5
But Arthur would not eat till all were served,
He was so jolly in his joyfulness, and somewhat childlike:
He liked to live life lightly, but little loved
To lie or sit still for very long
Thus did his young blood and restless mind urge him to action,
And also a certain custom governed him,
That, as he so nobly declared, he would never eat
Upon such a special occasion, unless he were told
An unusual tale of something adventurous,
Of some great marvel, that he could believe,
Of princes, of prowess, and other perils,
Or else some stranger beseeched him for a worthy knight
To join with in jousting, in jeopardy to lay
Life against life, to leave one or the other,
As fortune would favor him, the fairer to stand.
This was the king's custom when he was in court
At such a festive feast among his noble company

6
There stolidly stands the sturdy king himself,
Talking before the high table of pleasant trifles.
There Good Gawain was arrayed beside Guinevere,
And Agravain of the Heavy Hand sits on her other side,
Both the king's nephews and right noble knights.
Bishop Baldwin at the far end, heads the table,
And Ywain, son of Urien, eats with him.
Such knights sat on the dais and were sumptuously served,
With many a faithful fellow at their sides.
The first course came with a cracking of trumpets
Many bright banners hanging from them;
The novel noise of kettledrums and noble pipes,
Wild warbles and loud echos redounded,
Such that many a heart heaved high at the sound.
Delicacies were brought in, filled with flavor,
Freshest of the fresh, and on dishes so full,
That it was hard to find space in front of the people
To set the silverware that held the savory stews

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