How splendid he looked, this knight in the green apparel,
And his horse’s hair was as lovely as his own.
Fair waving locks tumbled around his shoulders,
A beard big as a bush flowing over his breast,
And the full length of the noble hair of his head
Had been cut in a circle above his elbows
So that his arms were half hidden under it
As by the tunic that covers a king’s neck.
The mane of that mighty horse looked much like that,
Its curls well combed and caught into many knots
With gold cord wound around the bright green,
For every strand of hair another of gold.
His tail and his forelocks were enwound the same way,
And both were bound with a band of bright green
And precious stones adorning them to the tip of his tail,
Then laced up tightly in a twirled knot.
There many bright shining bells of fine gold were ringing.
No knight rides a horse like that anywhere on earth.
Never before had one been seen in that hall
by anyone.
Bright as lightning he shone,
So they all said who saw him.
It seemed that no man
Could stand against him.
Yet he wore no helmet and no chain mail either,
Nor any breastplate, nor brassarts on his arms,
He had no spear and no shield for thrusting and striking,
But in his hand he held a branch of holly
That is greenest of all when the groves are bare,
And an ax in the other hand, huge and monstrous,
A fearsome battle-ax to find words to tell of.
The length of its head was at least a yard and a half,
The point all hammered out of green steel and gold,
The blade brightly burnished, with a broad edge,
Shaped for shearing as well as sharp razors.
The grim knight gripped the stout handle of the weapon.
It was wrapped with iron to the shaft’s end
And all engraved with green in graceful designs.
A lace was wound around it, fastened at the head,
Twining in many turns around the handle
With a fringe of fine tassels attached to it,
Rich embroidery above buttons of bright green.
This knight rides straight ahead into the hall,
Making for the high dais, undaunted by anything,
With no greeting to anyone, but his eyes high above them.
The first sound from him: “Where,” he asked, “is
The head of this gathering? I would be glad
To set eyes on that knight, and I have something
to say to him.”
Over the knights he cast his eye
Riding up and down,
Stopping and looking hard to see
Who might have most renown.
They went on staring at the knight for some time,
Everyone wondering what it might mean
For a man and a horse to acquire such a color,
As green as the grass grows, and greener still, it seemed,
The green enamel glowing brighter on the gold.
All of them standing there stared and crept closer to him
With all the wonder in the world, to see what he would do.
For they had seen many marvels but never any like this,
So they all thought it might be a phantom or trick of magic,
So that many of the noble knights were afraid to answer,
And all were struck by his voice and stayed stone still,
And there was a silence like death through the great hall.
Not a sound rose out of them, as though they had all
fallen asleep.
Not, I think, from fear only,
But some waiting for
Their King, out of courtesy,
To let him answer.
