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Updated: May 24, 2025
Chaucer tells us: "... There was no joye ne feste at alle; There n' as but hevinesse and mochel sorwe, For prively he wed her on the morwe, And all day after hid him as an owle, So wo was him his wife loked so foule!" When night came, and they were alone together, Sir Gawain could not conceal his aversion; and the lady asked him why he sighed so heavily, and turned away his face.
"And of himselfe imaginid he ofte To ben defaitid, pale and woxin lesse Than he was wonte, and that men saidin softe, What may it be? who can the sothe gesse, Why Troilus hath al this hevinesse? And al this n' as but his melancolie, That he had of himselfe suche fantasie.
Chaucer tells us: "... There was no joye ne feste at alle; There n' as but hevinesse and mochel sorwe, For prively he wed her on the morwe, And all day after hid him as an owle, So wo was him his wife loked so foule!" When night came, and they were alone together, Sir Gawain could not conceal his aversion; and the lady asked him why he sighed so heavily, and turned away his face.
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