Yet had he no helmet nor hawberk either,
No pisan nor plate, not a piece of armour,
No shield nor no shaft to shove with or strike;
But he held in one hand a cluster of holly
That is greatest in green when groves are bare,
And an axe in the other, huge beyond measure,
A terrible tool to tell of in speech:
The head of this axe had an ellyard’s length,
The grain of green steel with gold was enchasèd,
The bit burnisht bright, with a broad edge on it
As well shapen to sheer as a sharp razor.
The stale to this steel was a timber full stout
That with iron was wound to the wánd’s ènd
And engravèd in green with gracious devices:
A lace round it lapp’d that lock’d at the head,
And was halchèd full often the handle about,
With many a choice tassel attachèd thereto
On buttons of bright green broider’d full rich.
This áthel híes him ín and the hall enters,
Driving to the dais: no danger he fear’d.
He gave none greeting but gazed ay before him,
And no word did he utter, but “where is” (quoth he)
“The governor of this gyng? full glad should I be
Of that same to have sight, and with him would speak
reasón.”
On knights he cast his e’en
And swagger’d up and down,
Then stopp’d, and studied keen
Who there had most renown.