Look at them! Are they not beautiful? Had cinnamon been ground and rubbed into their skin, they could not have been more brown, more fragrant, more beloved of the wine-bright sky.
This is the third of four columns on magic in "Sir Gawain and the Green Knight," everybody's favorite raunchy, sexy, blood-soaked Middle English poem. The previous two columns discussed monsters, pentacles, and what it takes to shake up a Knight of the Round Table. This one gets into castles, hunting, chivalry, gender relations, and seduction—medieval style!
We bow, you walk me off into the wings / and treat my question as rhetorical.
