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Scavenger: You rest your bones I'll finish your quest for you.


Green Knight: One year hence


Green Knight: Oh greatest of Kings let one of your Knights try to land a blow against me. Indulge me in this game


Green Knight, Queen: (as the Queen's voice overlaps with the Green Knight's while she reads his letter) Oh, greatest of kings, indulge me in this friendly Christmas game. Let whichever of your knights is boldest of blood and wildest of hearts step forth, take up arms and try with honor to land a blow against me. Whomsoever nicks me shall lay claim to this my arm. Its glory and riches shall be thine. But... thy champ must bind himself to this: should he land a blow, then one year and Yuletide hence, he must seek me out yonder to the Green Chapel six nights to the north. He shall find me there and bend a knee and let me strike him in return, be it a scratch on the cheek or a cut in the throat. I will return what was given me, and then in trust and friendship, we shall part. Who, then, who is willing to engage with me?


Scavenger: You rest your bones, my brave little knight. I'll finish your quest for you. I'll finish it good.


A woman in the brothel: You a knight yet? Gawain: What? A woman in the brothel: You a knight yet ? Gawain: Not yet. A woman in the brothel: Better hurry up ! Gawain: I've got time, I've got lots of time.


Gawain: Honor. That is why a knight does what he does.


The Lady: (to Gawain) When you go, your footprints will fill with grass. Moss shall cover your tombstone, and as the sun rises, green shall spread over all, in all its shades and hues. This verdigris will overtake your swords and your coins and your battlements and, try as you might, all you hold dear will succumb to it. Your skin, your bones. Your virtue.


King: Is it wrong to want greatness for you?


Gawain: I fear I am not meant for greatness.


Gawain: My lady, Are you real ? or are you a spirit? Winifred: What is the difference? I just need my head. Gawain: As well i before the year is up!


The Lady: Red is the color of lust, but green is what lust leaves behind, in heart, in womb. Green is what is left when ardor fades, when passion dies, when we die, too.


(last lines) Green Knight: Well done, my brave knight. Now, off with your head!


King: Now it's Christmas. I wish to build bridges.


The Lord: This house is full of strange things. But then again, I see things everywhere that bear no logic.


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