Then the man in the green graith’d him anon, + 

And gather’d his grim tool, Gawain to smite; + 

With all the bir of his body he bore it aloft, + 

And feinted as fierce as though he would fell him. + 

Had he driv’n it adown as dree as he ettled, + 

There had been dead of that dint the doughty Gawain! + 

But he glent on the gisarm with a sideling glance + 

As down it came gliding, on ground to destroy him, + 

And shránk a líttle his shóulders at the sharp iron. + 

The other swerv’d in his swing and the swift blade withheld, + 

And with proud words many that prince he reproved: + 

“Thou art not Gawain,” quoth he, “that so good is holden, + 

That ne’er host overawed by hill or by valley. + 

Thou that flinchest for fear ere thou feel any hurt! + 

Of that knight such cowardice cóuld I ne’er hear! + 

Neither flinch’d I nor fled, when the fell tool thou swungest, + 

Nor argument held, in the house of King Arthur; + 

My head flew to my foot, yet flee did I never, + 

And thou quailest at heart, ere any harm happen! + 

The better man on bent behoves me be call’d + 

therefore.” + 

Quoth Gawain, “I flinchèd once, + 

But so will I no more; + 

Yet if my head hit the stones + 

I can it not restore. + 