¶ Out of his mouþ þer stoed a leom
Brighter þan þe sonne beom,
þat al þe stede atende.
Line 441
Adoun þei fellen all on kneo,
to thanke god þat is so freo
Of wonder þat he sende.
Line 444
Toward god he gan his hondes holde,
A writ betwene þei seye folde,
þei þat wer þer-inne.
Line 447
Eufemian adoun beyȝ,
þat writ he drow & ȝerne tey
he ne myght it out-winne.
Line 450
