Sir Gawain and the Green Knight: "All I want for Christmas is...mass."
In this fourteenth-century poem, the famous Sir Gawain is searching the land for a strange and enormous Green Knight, for he promised last Christmas to allow him to strike his head off--and he always keeps his promises. He has said farewell to Arthur's Court at Camelot and is passing through the inhospitable wilderness as he searches for death. But he realizes it is approaching Christmas, and he becomes anxious that he will not be able to attend a Christmas Eve Mass. I begin my translation in the midst of a description of the monsters Gawain must fight in the wilderness, as well as the extreme cold of this time of year.
Somewhile with Worms* he wars and with wolves also,
Somewhile with woodwoses^ that dwelt in the rocks,
Both with bulls and bears, and boars elsewhile,
And trolls that tramped down from the high hill.
Had he not been steadfast and served the Savior,
Doubtless he would have been driven to his death.
For war worried him not so much as winter--far worse--
When the cold clear water from the clouds was shed
And froze 'ere it could fall to the faded earth.
Near slain with the sleet he slept in his armor
More nights than enough, between naked rocks
While once clamorous waters that ran from the crest
Now hung high over his head in hard icicles.
Thus in peril and pain and plights full hard
Through country comes this knight until Christmas Eve,
Alone.
The knight well at that tide
To Mary made his moan
That she would kindly guide
And bring him to some home.
By a mount on that morning the man rides
Into a deep wood that was wild and weird,
High hills on each side, and under woods
Of hoary oaks full huge, a hundred together;
The hazel and the hawthorne were all thus entwined,
With rough ragged moss that ran everywhere,
With many cheerless birds upon bare twigs,
That piteously piped there for pain of the cold.
The hero on horseback hurries beneath them
Through much marshland and mire, remaining alone,
Fretting o'er his fate, lest he should fail
To see the service of that Sire that on that same night
Of a girl was given our guilt to destroy.
And therefore sighing he said: 'I beseech Thee, Lord,
And Mary, who is mildest mother so dear,
Of some harbor where highly I might hear mass
And Thy Matins tomorrow, meekly I ask,
And thereto priestly I pray my Pater and Ave
And Creed.'
He rode in his prayer
And cried for each misdeed.
He crossed himself with care
And said: 'Christ's Cross me speed.'
He'd not signed himself so but thrice
Before seeing through the sedge a stronghold secure,
Above a green, on high ground, garnished by boughs
Of many thickset trunks attending the moat,
A castle the comlookest that ever knight saw
Perched on a plain, a park all about... (lines 720-768)
Sir Gawain has found a human dwelling in which to celebrate Christmas. But his challenges are, it turns out, just beginning.
*that is, dragons. I've kept the original “Worms” to preserve the alliteration.
^There isn't a very good translation for "woodwose." These are wild men who live in the forest.
Somewhile with Worms* he wars and with wolves also,
Somewhile with woodwoses^ that dwelt in the rocks,
Both with bulls and bears, and boars elsewhile,
And trolls that tramped down from the high hill.
Had he not been steadfast and served the Savior,
Doubtless he would have been driven to his death.
For war worried him not so much as winter--far worse--
When the cold clear water from the clouds was shed
And froze 'ere it could fall to the faded earth.
Near slain with the sleet he slept in his armor
More nights than enough, between naked rocks
While once clamorous waters that ran from the crest
Now hung high over his head in hard icicles.
Thus in peril and pain and plights full hard
Through country comes this knight until Christmas Eve,
Alone.
The knight well at that tide
To Mary made his moan
That she would kindly guide
And bring him to some home.
By a mount on that morning the man rides
Into a deep wood that was wild and weird,
High hills on each side, and under woods
Of hoary oaks full huge, a hundred together;
The hazel and the hawthorne were all thus entwined,
With rough ragged moss that ran everywhere,
With many cheerless birds upon bare twigs,
That piteously piped there for pain of the cold.
The hero on horseback hurries beneath them
Through much marshland and mire, remaining alone,
Fretting o'er his fate, lest he should fail
To see the service of that Sire that on that same night
Of a girl was given our guilt to destroy.
And therefore sighing he said: 'I beseech Thee, Lord,
And Mary, who is mildest mother so dear,
Of some harbor where highly I might hear mass
And Thy Matins tomorrow, meekly I ask,
And thereto priestly I pray my Pater and Ave
And Creed.'
He rode in his prayer
And cried for each misdeed.
He crossed himself with care
And said: 'Christ's Cross me speed.'
He'd not signed himself so but thrice
Before seeing through the sedge a stronghold secure,
Above a green, on high ground, garnished by boughs
Of many thickset trunks attending the moat,
A castle the comlookest that ever knight saw
Perched on a plain, a park all about... (lines 720-768)
Sir Gawain has found a human dwelling in which to celebrate Christmas. But his challenges are, it turns out, just beginning.
*that is, dragons. I've kept the original “Worms” to preserve the alliteration.
^There isn't a very good translation for "woodwose." These are wild men who live in the forest.
