And þine cupe hol {and} sund. 364 Wha{n}ne þu lest lest him þe cupe iseo, Wel angussus he wile beo. He wile beo wel coveitus, And hire to bigge suþe fus. 368 Muchel he þe wule beode If him miȝte þe bet{er}e spede. Ihc wot he wille þilke day Hon{ur}e þe so muche so he may. 372 [Sidenote: At length give him the cup.] Þ{o}u shalt it blethly ȝeue him Ȝif it be of~ gold fyne; And he wol ful moche loue þe, And to þe bowe also, p{ar}de, 700 He wule þe lede to his i{n}ne Þe cupe of þe to biwi{n}ne. Ȝerne he wule þe bidde and p{re}ie Þ{a}t þu legge þe cupe to pleie. 376 Þu hi{m} ansuere atte furste, Þ{a}t no leng pleie þe ne luste. Ansuere hi{m} wel he{n}deliche, ‘Þin beo þe cupe,’ seie bluþeliche. 380 For his gode co{m}paygnie A wu{n}ne he haþ þi druerie. [_No gap in MS._] Ihc wot þ{a}t he mai alrebest Of þine neode helpe þe mest. 384 Þu miȝt segge, ‘þe ne faileþ non Gold ne selu{er} ne riche won.’ Seie þu wilt p{ar}te wiþ him of þan, Þ{a}t he schal eure beo riche man. 388 Whanne he hereþ þe speke so richeliche, And ansuerie so hendeliche, Þa{n}ne he wile beo wel bliþe, And bigi{n}ne to luuie þe suiþe, 392 [Sidenote: Promise him unlimited gold and silver if he will aid you. He will then fall at your feet and be your man.] Þat he wyl falle to þy foote, And become þyn~, ȝif~ he moote. And homage þ{o}u shalt fonge, And þe trouþ of his honde.” 704 And falle he wile to þi fote, And bicome þi man, if he mote. His ma{n}rede þu schalt fonge, And his truþe of his ho{n}de, 396 Þ{a}t he þe bere al þe helde Þ{a}t man schal to his lou{er}d ȝelde. And þus þureȝ þe cupe and his gi{n}ne Þu miȝt þi le{m}man best awi{n}ne. 400 Þa{n}ne þu miȝt beon iknewe, And þi cu{n}sail to hi{m} schewe.” [Headnote: _By this plan Floris wins over the ‘porter.’_] As he seide, he dide ywys; And as he ordeynd, so it is: Þe Porter ys Florys man bycom{e}, For his gold~ and his waryson{e}. 708 And alþus floris hath iwroȝt, As daris hi{m} haþ itaȝt. 404 Ac þureþ (_sic_) þe cupe {and} þureȝ g{er}sume, Þe port{er} is his man bicume. [Sidenote: Then reveal to him your wishes.] Florys seide, “now art þ{o}u my moon~, Al my trust is þe vppon~; Now my consel y wyl þe shewe; Rede me ryȝt, ȝif~ þ{o}u be trew.” 712 ¶ Nu quaþ floriz, “þu art mi man; Al mi trest is þe vpon. 408 Þ{er}uore þu most me helpe nede; Biþute þe ne mai me spede.” [Sidenote: Floris acts as advised, and discloses his identity.]