XLI
On the morrow, as men remember the tide When God for our destiny to die was born, In ev’ry wone in the world waxes weal for His sake; So the folk at the court had their festive fare, Both at mess and at meal-time men full doughty Daintiest dishes dress’d on the dais. That ancient of eld at the end of the board, With the lord at her side, full seemlily sat; Gawain and the gay burd, together they ate, Highest in honour, e’en as was meet; And the rest by rank, as the rule orders, Were seated on settle and served at table. There was meat, there was mirth, there was measureless joy Whereof for to tell were trouble o’ermuch, Though I pain’d me perchance to point you the tale; Yet I guess that Gawain and the gay lady Of their company caught such comfort together Through the dear dalliance of whisperèd words, In careless converse, courteous and chaste. That their play surpass’d any prince’s game, I trow. Some the loud trumpet wind, Some on the shrill pipe blow; Each man his note did mind And they two theirs also.