XCVIII
“But your girdle!” said Gawain, “may God you reward! I shall wear it with a will, not for winsome gold, Or the ceinture of silk, or the swinging pendants, Nor for wealth or for worship, or the wondrous embroid’ries, But a symbol of my sinning I shall see in it oft When I ride in renown, and rue to myself Of the fault and the frailty of sinful flesh, How tender to take any touch of defilement! And if pride e’er prick me for prowess of arms, To heed to this lace will humble my heart. But one thing I pray you, an’t please you, Sir Knight, Since ye’re lord of this land, where I lodged at mine ease In your wone, with worship—and reward you may He That upholds the heavens and on hígh sìts!— By what name are ye known? and I shall nó more ask.” “I will say you the sooth,” then said the Green Knight, “Bercilac of Hígh-Desert I hight in my home. It was Morgan la Fay, in my meiny that lives, And the might of her magic that moved me to seek you. The mysteries of Merlin full many has she learnt; For once on a day she had dealing in druery With that wizardly clerk, and she knows all your knights: Dread dame! Morgan, the goddess high— Therefore it is her name; No knight so proud goes by But she his pride can tame.