(229)
f. 119a.
So it ffell̴ vppon a day,
The kyng of Ierusalem) gan say:
‘Sir, thy sonne I ffound
Lying in a libertes mouth, 2635
And no good he ne couth,
Dede he was nere hond:
Wold thou, that he dwellid with me,
Till̴ that I dede be,
And sith reioyse my lond?’...... 2640