XV
And said, “Athel, by heaven, thy asking is foolish; And as folly thou hast sought, befalls thee to find it. I know none that is abasht at thy boasting so big; Give me now thy gisarm, in God’s name, I pray thee, For gladly I grant thee the grace thou hast ask’d.” He leapt to him lightly, and lent him his hand, And fiercely the fell man alighted on foot. Now Arthur has his axe, and the haulm he grips, And sternly makes play, of his stroke thinking. The stalwart before him stands like a tower, Higher than ány in that hóuse by a head and far more; With stern cheer he stands, and his beard he strokes, Then with countenance dree he draws down his coat, No more daunted or dismay’d for the dread buffet Than if boy upon bench had brought him to drink of wine. Gawain from seat did rise And to the King incline, “I beseech you, Sir, (he cries) This mellay might be mine.”