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 declare that they
have never seen "any man of such hues of green."

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