When the dinner was done, and the dais risen,
It was near to the night that the time drew nigh,
Chaplains to the chapel chose them the gate,
Rung a festal peal at that festal season,
For the high evensong of the holy tide.
Then the lord his lady led to the service,
(Into a comely closet queenly she enter’d,)
And Gawain full gay graithly them follow’d.
By the lap the lord took him, and led him to seat,
Accosted him couthly and call’d him by name,
And said he was the welcomest wight in the world;
From his heart he thank’d him, and they halchèd each other,
And full soberly sat while the service lasted.
Then list that lady to look on the knight
And she came from her closet with dames of the court;
She was the fairest of feature, and freshest of teint,
And the finest of figure of all women on fold;
More lovely than Gwenore she looks to Gawain,
As he goes through the chancel his greeting to give.
Anóther lády her léd by the left hand,
Who of age was the older, an ancient it seem’d,
Escorted by squires with a courtly respect.
But unlike to look on those ladies appear’d,
Fair of youth was the younger, but yellow the other,
In complexion of rose was the younger array’d,
Rough cheeks and wrinkled hung on the ancient;
Kerchiefs on the one, with clear-white pearls,
(Her breast and her bright throat all bare display’d,)
Like the sheen snow shone, that is shed upon hills;
The elder had a gorget gear’d o’er her throat,
A chin full swart, in a chalk-white chimble,
Fórehead fólden in sílk, her front all muffled,
Turreted and trick’d with trifles and gauds,
So that nothing was bare but the bláck bròws,
The nose and the eyes and the naked lips,
That were unsightly with sores and sorrily blear’d;
A worshipful wight you might wéll call her
fore God!
Her body was short and stout,
Her buttocks round and broad:
A tastier thing, no doubt,
Was she that by her strode.