Gawain was enraged because
The battle had lasted so long.
In his anger he made a direct attack,
Wounding and weakening him badly.
He struck with such force
On the edge of his shield
That the blow slid all the way down:
The icy blade descended down
To the first with which he held the blade.
The thumb and two other fingers
Were cut through cleanly,
But the sword stopped in time
So that they were held on by a thread.
The trusty sword of the king
Flew out of his hand far from him.
He was very angry and upset
When he saw how he was wounded;
In his anger he made one more effort
And ran toward his sword,
Turned the strap around,
And picked it up in the other hand,
Just as necessity dictated,
And launched a fierce attack.

The Perilous Graveyard