were too tedious to tell of the meat, the mirth, and the joy that abounded everywhere. Trumpets and horns give forth their merry notes, and great was the joy for three days.

St John’s Day was the last day of the Christmas festival, and on the morrow many of the guests took their departure from the castle. Its lord thanked Sir Gawayne for the honour and pleasure of his visit, and endeavoured to keep him at his court. He desired also to know what had driven Sir Gawayne from Arthur’s Court before the end of the Christmas holidays?

Sir Gawayne replied that “a high errand and a hasty one” had forced him to leave the Court. Then he asked his host whether he had ever heard of the Green Chapel? For there he had to be on New Year’s Day, and he would as lief die as fail in his errand. The prince tells Sir Gawayne he will teach him the way, and that the Green Chapel is not more than two miles from the castle. Then was Gawayne glad, and he consented to tarry awhile at the castle; and its lord and castellan rejoiced too, and sent to ask the ladies to come and entertain their guest. And he asked Sir Gawayne to grant him one request that he would keep his chamber on the morrow’s morn, as he must be tired after his far travel. Meanwhile his host and the other men of the castle were to rise very early, and go a-hunting.

“Whatsoever,” said his host, “I win in the wood shall be yours; and whatever hap be yours at home, I will as freely count as mine.” And he gave Sir Gawayne in token a ring, which he was not to yield, no, not though it was thrice required of him by the fairest lady under heaven! To all this Sir Gawayne gladly agreed, and so with much cheer, a bargain was made between them; and as night drew on, each went early to his bed.

III

Next morn, full early before the day, all the folk of the castle up-rise, and saddle their horses, and truss their saddlebags. The noble lord of the castle too arrays himself for riding, eats a sop hastily, and goes to mass. Before daylight, he and his men are on their horses; then the hounds are called out and coupled; three short notes are blown by the bugles, and a hundred hunters join in the chase. To their stations the deer- stalkers go, and the hounds are cast off, and joyously the chase begins.

Roused by the clamour the deer rush to the heights, but are soon driven back; the harts and bucks are allowed to pass, but the hinds and does are driven back to the shade. As they fly they are shot by the bowmen: the hounds and the hunters, with a loud cry, follow in pursuit, and those that escape the arrows are killed by the hounds. The lord waxes joyful in the chase, which lasted till the approach of night.

All this time, Sir Gawayne lay abed—and woke only to hear afar the baying of the hounds, and so to doze again. But at length there befell a knock at his door, and a damsel entered to bid him rise, and come to meat with her mistress. Straight-way he arose, attired himself, put the fair ring on his finger, that his host had given him and descended to greet the lady of the castle.

“Good-morrow, fair sir,” says she, “you are a late sleeper, I see!” She tells him, with a laughing glance, that she doubts if he really be Sir Gawayne that all the world worships: for he cares better to sleep than to hunt with the knights in the wood, or talk with the ladies in their bower.

“In good faith,” quoth Sir Gawayne, “save this ring on my finger, there is nought I would not yield thee in token of my service and thy courtesy.”

The lady told him that if true courtesy were enclosed in himself, he would keep back nothing—no, not so much as a ring! But Sir Gawayne bethought him of his word to the lord of the castle; of his promise also to the Green Knight. He may not, he says, yield up his ring; but he will be forever her true servant.

We leave now the lady and Sir Gawayne, and turn to tell how the lord of the land and his men end their hunt in wood and heath. Of the killed a “quarry” they make; and set about ‘breaking” the deer, and take