Book XI · ARNIVE, part 4 of 6

¶Then stilled for a space the clamour--The couch stood within the hall, And an equal space had they measured from its station to either wall. Yet now waxed his peril greater, for five hundred missiles, swung 255 With craft from hands yet hidden, were against Sir Gawain flung. And they fell on the couch as he lay there; but the shield it was hard and new, And it sheltered him well, and I think me of the blows did he feel but few. And the stones were as river pebbles, so heavy, and hard, and round, And in many a place on the surface of the shield might their trace be found. 260

¶At length was the stone-shower ended, and never before he knew Such sharp and such heavy missiles as those which toward him flew. For now full five hundred cross-bows were bended, their bolts they sped, And each one was aimed at the hero as he lay on the Wonder-Bed. (And he who hath faced such peril in sooth he of darts may tell:) 265 Yet their wrath was soon spent, and silence for awhile on the chamber fell. And he who would seek for comfort he ne'er on such couch should lie! Little solace or rest may he find there, but peace from his face shall fly! And youth would wax grey and agèd, if such comfort should be its share As fell to the lot of Gawain, when he lay on that couch so fair. 270 Yet nor weariness nor terror had weakened or hand or heart, Tho' the stones and the bolts of the cross-bow had done on his limbs their part, And spite of both shield and corslet, sore bruisèd and cut was he: And he thought that, this peril ended, the venture should ended be-- But yet with his hand must he battle, and the prize of the victor win, 275 For a doorway e'en now flew open, and one trode the hall within; And the man was a mighty peasant, and fearful of face, and grim, And the hide of the grey sea-otter was his covering on head and limb, And his hosen were wide, and he carried a club in his strong right hand, And 'twas thicker I ween than a pitcher that round-bellied doth firmly stand. 280

¶So came he unto Sir Gawain, (and his coming it pleased him ill,) Yet he thought, 'He doth bear no harness, mine arms shall withstand him still,' Upright on the couch he sat him, as nor terror nor pain he knew, And the peasant, as he would flee him, a space from the bed withdrew, And he cried in a voice so wrathful, 'From me hast thou naught to fear, 285 Yet such peril I'll loose upon thee that thy life must thou buy full dear; The devil himself doth aid thee, else wert thou not still in life, Bethink thee, for death cometh swiftly, and the ending of all thy strife, No more can the devil shield thee, that I tell thee ere hence I pass!' Then he gat him once more thro' the doorway, and Gawain gripped his sword-hilt fast, 290 And the shafts did he smite asunder of the arrows that thro' his shield Had passed, and had pierced his armour, nor yet to his hand would yield.

¶Then a roar, as of mighty thunder, on the ear of Gawain did fall, As when twenty drums were sounding to dance in the castle hall. Then the hero, so firm and dauntless, whose courage ne'er felt the smart 295 Of the wounds that cowardice pierceth, thought thus in his steadfast heart: 'What evil shall now befall me? Must I yet more sorrow know? For sorrow enow have I seen here, yet here will I face my foe!' He looked toward the peasant's doorway, and a mighty lion sprang thro', And its size was e'en that of a warhorse, and straight on Gawain it flew. 300 But Gawain he was loth to fly here, and his shield he held fast before, As best for defence should serve him, and he sprang down upon the floor. And the lion was hunger-ravening, yet little should find for food, Tho' raging it sprang on the hero, who bravely its rush withstood.

¶The shield it had near torn from him, with the first grip its talons fierce 305 It drave thro' the wood, such hardness but seldom a beast may pierce. Yet Gawain did right well defend him, his sword-blade aloft he swung, And on three feet the beast must hold him, while the fourth from the shield yet hung. And the blood gushed forth on the pavement, and Gawain he firmer stood, And the fight raged hither and thither, as the lion, on the hero good, 310 Sprang ever with snorting nostrils, and gleaming fangs and white-- And if on such food they had reared it, that its meat was a gallant knight, I had cared not to sit beside it! Nor such custom pleased Gawain well, Who for life or for death must fight it--and the strife ever fiercer fell.

¶So sorely the beast was wounded, the chamber with blood ran o'er; 315 Fierce sprang the lion upon Gawain, and would bear him unto the floor, But Gawain a sword-thrust dealt him, thro' the heart the swift blade sped Till his hand smote full on the breast-bone, and the lion at his feet fell dead. And now all the deadly peril and the conflict was over-past-- In the same hour Gawain bethought him, 'Where now shall my lot be cast? 320 Since to sit in this blood I like not, and I must of the couch beware, For it runneth a race so frantic 'twere foolish to sit me there!'

¶But yet was his head so deafened with the blows that upon him fell, And many his wounds, and the life-blood did forth from its fountains well, And his strength waxed faint, and it left him, and he fell on the chamber floor; 325 His head lay on the lion's body, and the shield might he hold no more. And if wisdom and power were his portion, of the twain was he reft I ween, And tho' fair was the Burg, yet within it full rough had his handling been.

¶His senses forsook him wholly--no such pillow I ween was his As that which on Mount Ribbelé Gymele gave to Kahenis; 330 Both fair and wise was the maiden--and his honour he slept away-- But here honour ran swift-footed to Gawain as he prostrate lay. For in sooth ye shall well have hearkened, and shall know how such chance befell, That thus lay the hero lifeless, from the first have ye heard it well.