feared him no whit yet he deemed his end was come. He knew well that the
folk were evil-disposed and bare malice and rancour towards him for the
sake of the dead man who lay there, in that they had seen his wounds
bleed afresh, and had thereby known his slayer. Thus was his heart
sorely troubled.

Now leave we speaking of Sir Gawain. The host was within the hall, with
his folk until daylight; with sorrow and lamentation did they pass the
night, bemoaning their bitter loss. For though the knight had well
deserved his death yet had he there many friends who lamented the loss
that they had thereby suffered. They were loth to own that he was evil
and cruel of heart.

So soon as they saw the fair day light the host took counsel with his
folk that they might advise him well by what means, and in what way,
they might avenge themselves for their heavy loss. Said the host, their
lord, did he let the guest, whom he held there captive, and who had
smitten his son to death, depart in safety, "Men would say I were but
a coward, and durst not avenge myself, and would speak scorn of me;
so many have seen how the matter fell out that it may not well remain
hidden. Yet should I slay my guest then from henceforward would they cry
shame upon me in every land where the tale be told."

Thus was he of two minds, and thought in his heart that to save himself
from shame 'twere best to let his guest depart so soon as he arose,
armed in all points as he came thither, and harm him in no wise, but
bring him, unhurt by any man, without the borders of his land and his
safe conduct, and there bid him farewell and return hither; while that
his friends, who would fain see him avenged, waylaid Sir Gawain, and
wrought their will upon him, and, if they would, slew him. Or if they