Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight - Camelot Xmas Games

A Seasonal Play in Verse

With Medieval
Christmas Songs and Music

suitable for small theatres, or even barns, halls, churches with good acoustics...

Recent performances:  Feb 12th to 15th, 2014 at the O'Reilly Theatre, Keeble College, Oxford, traverse staging -  read the most GLOWING review, (also quoted from below) click:-

Bertilak and the Boar's Head Carol

"Inspiration obviously dropped on Simon Corble like manna…a delightful mix of hearty modern idiom and extremely pleasing verse, that captures the rhythm and dialect of the original with great cheer and sensitivity."

The Guardian - Francesca Turner

Originally written for The Midsommer Actors' Company in 1992, the text has undergone substantial revision to produce a piece of intelligent Christmas or Seasonal theatre with real atmosphere.

"At last! A brilliant and beautiful production of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight which fully embraces all its subtleties and complexities, without losing its sense of humour!"  Andrea Hopkins, (reviewer and author of books on medieval romance)
Oxford Daily Info. Feb 2014.


Short Extract

(from the penultimate scene at the Green Chapel.  Sir Gawain stands on the ancient burial mound, having announced his presence.  The Green Knight speaks in a broad rural Lancashire accent.)



Sir Gawin! How good it is to greet again!

Yea, Iwis, thou art welcome, Wawen, to mi place.

And thou hast timed thy travel as true man should;

At this time, back twelve months, thou tookst on’t challenge.

Twelve month and a day and thou didst come

Yay, so yeply to meet me, this young New Year.

 Thou knowest the covenant cast us between;

 Haf thy helm off thy head and haf here thy pay.

 Busk me no more debate, than I bore thee then,

When thou whipped off mi head with one whap!


Nay, by God, I'll bear thee no grudge, Green Knight,

But stand still for thee; strictly, one stroke.



Thou art not the great Gawin, that so good is holden;

That never flinched for fear, by hill nor vale,

For, such cowardice of that knight, I caught not a word.

I can't recall; did I cringe in the court, at Arthur's?...

My head flew to my feet, but flinched I not on

That floor!


Alright, I winced once;

But shrink shall I no more -

Though when my head falls to the stones

I cannot it restore.

Deal me to my destiny - do it out of hand;

I shall stand for thee still, for one stroke of thy steel;

Have here my troth.


Have at thee then!

[end of extract]