Then was Gringalet ready, that was great and strong, and had been well
cared for and tended in every wise; in fair condition was that proud
steed, and fit for a journey. Then Gawain went to him, and looked on his
coat, and said by his sooth, “There is a folk in this place that
thinketh on honour; much joy may they have, and the lord who maintains
them, and may all good betide that lovely lady all her life long. Since
they for charity cherish a guest, and hold honour in their hands, may He
who holds the heaven on high requite them, and also ye all. And if I
might live anywhile on earth, I would give ye full reward, readily, if
so I might.” Then he set foot in the stirrup and bestrode his steed, and
his squire gave him his shield, which he laid on his shoulder. Then he
smote Gringalet with his golden spurs, and the steed pranced on the
stones and would stand no longer.
By that his man was mounted, who bare his spear and lance, and Gawain
quoth, “I commend this castle to Christ, may He give it ever good
fortune.” Then the drawbridge was let down, and the broad gates unbarred
and opened on both sides; the knight crossed himself, and passed through
the gateway, and praised the porter, who knelt before the prince, and
gave him good-day, and commended him to God. Thus the knight went on his
way with the one man who should guide him to that dread place where he
should receive rueful payment.
The two went by hedges where the boughs were bare, and climbed the
cliffs where the cold clings. Naught fell from the heavens, but ’twas
ill beneath them; mist brooded over the moor and hung on the mountains;
each hill had a cap, a great cloak, of mist. The streams foamed and
bubbled between their banks, dashing sparkling on the shores where they
shelved downwards. Rugged and dangerous was the way through the woods,
till it was time for the sun-rising. Then were they on a high hill; the
snow lay white beside them, and the man who rode with Gawain drew rein
by his master.