Now arn~ in þat ilk~ Tour Twoo and fourty nobełł boure; 584 Wel were þat ilke man Þ{ a}t myȝt woon{ e} in þ{ a}t oon~! Ne durst him neu{ er} more ywys Couete after more blysse. 588
“Þer buþ in þe hiȝe tur Forti Maidenes { and} four. Wel were þ{ a}t ilke mon Þ{ a}t miȝte winne wiþ þ{ a}t on. 252 Ne þorte he neure ful iwis Wilne more of p{ ar}adis.
. . . . . beþ in þan . . Foure { and} fourti . . . . . [Þ]at wel were þ{ a}t ilke . . . . . Mihte wonie . . . . . [_About twenty lines illegible here._]
Naw arn~ þer Seriauntes in þ{ a}t stage Þ{ a}t s{ er}uen þe maydons of hyȝe p{ ar}age; But no s{ er}ieaunt may s{ er}ue þ{ er}ynne Þ{ a}t bereþ in his breche þat gynne 592 To s{ er}ue hem day and nyȝt, But he be as a Capou{ n} dyȝt. At þe gate is a ȝateward~; He is not a Coward~; 596 He is wonder proude w{ i}t{ h} alle; Eu{ er}y day he goþ in ryche palle.
Þ{ er} buþ seriau{ n}s in þe stage Þ{ a}t s{ er}ueþ þe maidenes of p{ ar}age. 256 Ac ne mot þ{ er} no{ n} ben inne Þ{ a}t one þe breche bereþ þe ginne, Noþ{ er} bi daie ne biniȝt, Bute he also capun beo idiȝt. 260
[Sidenote: The Admiral takes a new wife each year.]
And þe Amyral haþ a wonder woon~, Þ{ a}t he þ{ a}t is com{ e} of cristendom{ e}, 600 Euery ȝere to haue a new wyf~, Þen he loueþ his Queene as his lyf~.
And þe Admiral is such a gume, In al þe world nis such a sune. Ne bu his wife neure so schene, Bute o ȝer ne schal heo beon his q{ ue}ne. 264 Þeȝ heo luue him ase hire lif, Þ{ a}t he nele habbe anoþ{ er} wif. And, floriz, imai þe telle fore, Heo schal beon his quene icore. 268
Neuer . . [_leaf 7, back, col. 2_] To chesen hire . . . . . . Þeyȝ he louede is quene . . .
[Headnote: _Description of the wonderful orchard._]
[Sidenote: The maidens are brought down into a beautiful orchard in which is a marvellous spring and a wonderful tree.]
[Sidenote: [105 _b_]] Then shul men bryng{ e} doun~ of þe Toure Al þe Maidens of grete honour, 604 And bryng{ e} hem into an Orchard~, Þe feirest of al mydlerd~: Þeryn is mony fowles song~; Men myȝt leue þ{ er}yn ful long~: 608 About þe Orchard is a walle,-- Þe fowlest stone is Cristall{ e},--
Alle þe maidenes of p{ ar}age Me schal bringe adu{ n} of þe stage, And leden he{ m} in to on orchard, Þe faireste of al þe Middellerd. 272 Abute þe orchard is a wal; Þe eþelikeste ston is cristal. Ho so wonede a moneþ in þ{ a}t spray, Nolde him neure longe{ n} away. 276 So m{ er}ie is þ{ er}i{ n}ne þe foȝeles song, Þ{ a}t ioie { and} blisse is eure among.