516 [A] After þe sesoun of somer wyth þe soft wynde3, Quen 3eferus syfle3 hym-self on sede3 & erbe3, [B] Wela-wynne is þe wort þat woxes þer-oute. When þe donkande dewe drope3 of þe leue3, 520 To bide a blysful blusch of þe bry3t sunne. [C] Bot þen hy3es heruest, & hardenes hym sone. Warne3 hym for þe wynter to wax ful rype; [D] He dryues wyth dro3t þe dust for to ryse. 524 Fro þe face of þe folde to fly3e ful hy3e; Wroþe wynde of þe welkyn wrastele3 with þe sunne, [E] Þe leue3 lancen fro þe lynde, & ly3ten on þe grounde, [F] & al grayes þe gres, þat grene wat3 ere; 528 Þenne al rype3 & rote3 þat ros vpon fyrst, & þus 3irne3 þe 3ere in 3isterdaye3 mony, [G] & wynter wynde3 a3ayn, as þe worlde aske3 no sage. 532 Til me3el-mas mone, Wat3 cumen wyth wynter wage; [H] Þen þenkke3 Gawan ful sone, Of his anious uyage. [Sidenote A: Then the soft winds of summer,] [Sidenote B: beautiful are the flowers wet with dew-drops.] [Sidenote C: But harvest approaches soon,] [Sidenote D: and drives the dust about.] [Sidenote E: The leaves drop off the trees,] [Sidenote F: the grass becomes gray, and all ripens and rots.] [Sidenote G: Winter winds round again,] [Sidenote H: and then Sir Gawayne thinks of his dread journey.] III. 536 [A] 3et quyl al-hal-day with Arþer he lenges, & he made a fare on þat fest, for þe freke3 sake, With much reuel & ryche of þe rounde table; Kny3te3 ful cortays & comlych ladies, 540 Al for luf of þat lede in longynge þay were, Bot neuer-þe-lece ne þe later þay neuened bot merþe, Mony ioyle3 for þat ientyle iape3 þer maden. [B] For aftter mete, with mournyng he mele3 to his eme, 544 & speke3 of his passage, & pertly he sayde, [C] "Now, lege lorde of my lyf, leue I yow ask; 3e knowe þe cost of þis cace, kepe I no more To telle yow tene3 þer-of neuer bot trifel; 548 [D] Bot I am boun to þe bur barely to morne, To sech þe gome of þe grene, as god wyl me wysse." Þenne þe best of þe bur3 bo3ed to-geder, Aywan, & Errik, & oþer ful mony, 552 Sir Doddinaual de Sauage, þe duk of Clarence, [Fol. 98b.] Launcelot, & Lyonel, & Lucan þe gode, Sir Boos, & sir Byduer, big men boþe, [E] & mony oþer menskful, with Mador de la Port. 556 Alle þis compayny of court com þe kyng nerre, For to counseyl þe kny3t, with care at her hert; [F] Þere wat3 much derue[1] doel driuen in þe sale, Þat so worthe as Wawan schulde wende on þat ernde, 560 To dry3e a delful dynt, & dele no more wyth bronde. Þe kny3t mad ay god chere, & sayde, "quat schuld I wonde, 564 [G] Of destines derf & dere, What may mon do bot fonde?"