¶ þo sir Eufemian was y-war
þat his sone lay þar,
His armes he to-spradde,
Line 465
He tar his her, he tar his cloþ,
And fel a-swoȝe opon þe cors,
So moche sorwe he hadde.
Line 468
¶ By a stounde he gan op-stonde,
To-tar his her & wrang his honde,
þat alle folk miȝte rewe;
Line 471
[folio 76b] He wep and made reuful cry;
ffor him hy were wel sory,
þat he him er ne knewe.
Line 474
