Biþ{a}t hit was middai hiȝ, Floriz was þe brigge niȝ. 152 Þe he com to þe gate Þe port{er} he fond anon þ{er}ate, Sittinde one a marbelston, Suþe fair {and} hende mon, 156 And so him sede child floriz, “Rest þe m{ur}ie, sire daris,” . . . . . . ondarne heyȝ . . . . . [bru]gge suiþe neyȝ . . . . . þane brugge icome . . . . . bruggere ate frome . . . . . . . a Marbreston . . . . . mon he was on . . . . . was of Muchel p{ri}s . . . . . . him sulf iwis . . . . . ys was i hote doyre . . . . . s him grette wel fayre . . . . . him þane ri{n}g arauht . . . [d] ayre hine him bi tauht [Headnote: _Floris presents his ring of introduction to Daris._] [Sidenote: Floris presents the ring, and is hospitably received.] Þrouȝ þe token of þ{a}t ilk~ ryng~ Florys had ful faire gestnyng~ Off~ Fyssħ and flessh and tender breed~, Of~ wyn~, both white and reed~: 520 And tok him to tokne þis ring; And þ{er}fore he hauede wel fair gestni{n}g. 160 Glade {and} bliþe hi weren alle, So fele so weren in þe halle, . . . . þe tockne of þe ringe . hadde þ{er} aniht wel gode gistinge . . . . b of fles of tendre bred . . . . t win {and} eke of red [Sidenote: Floris sits mourning.] And eu{er} Florys sate ful colde, And Dares bygan þe Childe beholde: Ac floriz net ne dronk noȝt; On blau{n}cheflur was al his þoȝt 164 Sire daris vnderȝet Þ{a}t floriz m{ur}ni{n}ge set. . . . . re floyres sike {and} colde . . . . gon þ{a}t chil by holde [Sidenote: Daris asks if he is not pleased with his entertainment.] [Sidenote: [104 _b_]] “Leue Child, what may þis be, Þus þouȝtful as y the see? 524 And þ{o}u nouȝt al in feere, Þat þ{o}u makist þus sory chere, Or þ{o}u lykkest noȝt þis yn~?” “Floriz,” he sede, “what mai þe beo, So þoȝtful ase ihc þe seo? 168 Me þincheþ bi þine chire, Þu nert noȝt glad of þi sop{er}e, Oþ{er} þe ne likeþ noȝt þis in.” . . . . wat may þe be . . . . . þe i see . . . . . . . uoice al fere . . . . . . . . ele chere. [Sidenote: [_leaf 7, col. 2_]] . . . . . . . . þin in.” Þan Floreys answered him~: 528 “Ȝis, s{ir}, by goddes ore, So good ne had y mony day ȝore: God let me abyde þat daye Þat y þe quyte wel may: 532 Þo floriz ansuerede him: 172 “Sire,” he sede, “bi godes ore, So god in nauede ihc wel ȝore, Vre lou{er}d me lete ibide þe day Þ{a}t ihc hit þe ȝulde may. 176