Though he arrayed himself in his richest clothing – his coat bearing his crest exquisitely stitched, vivid against velvet, a vision of jewels embodying the bright virtues, with embroidered seams, and a fine fur lining sewn from the finest pelts – still he did not neglect the lady’s gift, the girdle she supplied. For his own good, Sir Gawain could not forgo that token. He belted his blade upon his broad hips, wrapped the lace in a ring around himself twice, then swiftly cinched it snug at his waist. That girdle of green silk suited Gawain well. Against his royal red clothing it made a rich display. But it was not his purpose to display such treasure, nor was it for pride in its pendants, polished though they were, with glittering gold glistening from their tips. He sought only to save himself from harm when he must bow his head to the bite of knife or sword. By then his mind was set on the road that lay before. The servants bowed, and yet he thanked them even more.

Here's stanza #81 in my ongoing online translation of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. This was a hard stanza to translate, but I'm fairly happy with what I ended up with.

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