He fond Reymild sitte{n}de, Sore wepende, 692 Whit so eny sonne, Wit teres albi ronne. He seyde, “le{m}man, þin ore, Wy wepes þou so sore?” 696 he fond rymenild sittynde {ant} wel sore wepynde, 692 so whyt so þe sonne, mid terres al byronne. Horn seide, “luef, þyn ore, why wepest þou so sore?” 696 [Headnote: _Rymenhild tells Horn her Dream._] [Sidenote: She tells him her dream, how a great fish broke her net.] Heo sede, “noȝt ine wepe; Bute ase ilay aslepe, [_No gap in MS._ . . . . . . . . . . . . . .] To þe se my net icaste, {And} hit nolde noȝt ilaste. Hye seyde, “ich nawt ne wepe, Bote ich schal her ich slepe. Me þoute in my metynge, Þat ich rod on fischinge. 700 To se my net ich keste; Ne Mict ich nowt lache. Hue seide, “ich nout ne wepe, ah y shal er y slepe. me þohte o my metyng, þat ich rod ofysshyng. 700 to see my net ycaste, ant wel fer hit laste. A gret fiss at þe furste, Mi net he gan to berste. 704 [_No gap in MS._ . . . . . . . . . . . . . .] Ihc wene þ{a}t ihc schal leose Þe fiss þat ihc wolde cheose.” 708 A gret fys ate furste Mi net he makede berste. 704 Þe fys me so by laucte, Þat ich nawt ne kaucte. Ich wene ich schal forlese Þe fys þat ich wolde chese.” 708 a gret fyssħ at þe ferste my net made berste. 704 þ{a}t fyssħ me so bycahte, þ{a}t y nout ne lahte. y wene y shal forleose þe fyssħ þ{a}t y wolde cheose.” 708 [Sidenote: Horn comforts her.] ¶ “Crist,” q{ua}þ horn, “{and} seint steuene, Turne þine sweuene. Ne schal iþe biswike, Ne do þ{a}t þe mislike. 712 “God and seynte steuene,” Qwad horn, “terne þi sweuene. Ne shal ich neu{er}e swike, Ne do þat þe mis like. 712 ¶ “C{ri}st {ant} seinte steuene,” quoþ horn, “areche þy sweuene. no shal y þe byswyke, ne do þat þe mis lyke. 712 [Sidenote: Horn plights his troth to Rymenhild, but both weep and forebode evil from the dream.] I schal me make þinowe, To holden {and} to knowe, For eurech oþ{er}e wiȝte; {And} þarto mi treuþe iþe pliȝte.” 716 Muchel was þe ruþe Þ{a}t was at þare truþe, For Rymenhild weop ille, {And} horn let þe tires stille. 720