Now eu{er}y word he haþ him tolde, How þe mayde was fro him sholde, And how he was of~ Spayn~ a kynges soon~, For grete loue þeder ycoom~ 716 To fonden, w{i}t{h} som{e} gynne, Þat feire mayde for to wynne. Ord {and} ende he haþ him told, Hu þ{a}t maide was isold, 412 And hu he was of spaygne a kinges sune, For hire luue he was þider icume, To fo{n}de mid sume ku{n}nes ginne, Hu he miȝte hire awinne. 416 [Headnote: _The porter covers Floris in a basket of flowers._] [Sidenote: The porter at first reproaches himself, but presently promises his aid.] Þe Porter þat herde, and sore syȝt, And seide, “y am betrayde aryȝt; 720 Þrouȝ þy Catel, y am dismayde; Þerfore y am wel euyl a-payde [Sidenote: [107 _a_]] Now y woot how it gooþ; For þe shal y suffre deth; 724 I shal þe faile neuer moo, Þe while y may ryde and goo; Þy forwardes shal y holde alle, What-so-eu{er} may befalle. 728 I-wend nu, floriz, to þin i{n}ne, While i biþenche of sume gi{n}ne. 428 Ihc wulle fonde what ido may Bituene þis {and} þe þ{ri}dde day.” Floriz siȝte {and} weop among Þulke t{er}me him þuȝte long. 432 ++ÞE port{er} þoȝte what to rede; He let flures gadere on þe mede. Cupen he let fulle of flures, To strawe{n} in þe maidenes bures. 436 Wynde now hoom~ to þyn~) ynne While y beþenke me of su{m} gynne; Bytwene þis and þe þrydde day. Fonde y shal, what y do may. 732 Flores spake and wept among{e} And þouȝt þe terme al to long{e}. Þe Porter þouȝt þe best reed, And let geder floures in a meed~; 736 He wist it was þe maydons wylle. To lepes he lete of floures fylle: Þo þe port{er} iherde þis, he siȝte, “Ihc am,” he sede, “bitraid wiþ riȝte, Þ{a}t þureȝ þis cupe {and} þis g{er}sume Ihc am nu þi man bicume. 420 Nu ihc seo hu hit geþ; For þe ihc drede þolien deþ. Noȝt for þan while ihc mai go, I ne schal þe failli neure mo. 424 What me bitide oþ{er} bifalle, Ihc schal þe foreward holde{n} alle. [Sidenote: He covers Floris in a basket of flowers, which is borne above.] Þat was þe best reed, as him þouȝt þoo, Floures in þat oon~ lep to doo. 740 Twoo maydens þe lepe bore; So heuy charged neuer þey wore, And bade god ȝeue hem euyl fyn{e}; To mony floures he dide þ{er}ynne. 744 Þ{a}t was his red to helpe him so; He let floriz on þ{a}t on cupe go. Tuei gegges þe cupe bere, And for heuie wroþ hi were. 440 Hi bede{n} God ȝiue hi{m} vuel fin, Þ{a}t so manie flures dude þ{er}in.