Who, as he journeyed, met a gentle maid,
With whom he, light of heart and light of tongue,
Conversed in playful strain. The maid was fair,
And he, in jest, spake loving words to her,
Believing that she knew them to be feigned. (At this point it begins to dawn upon Vavir that Florian is referring to her.)
She, pure as Faith—having no thought of guile
Tender and trustful in her innocence—
Believed the madcap knight’s unworthy words,
And nursed them in her heart. He, smit with shame,
For he was plighted to her sister (Vavir, finding her fears confirmed, rises, shrinking from Florian, expressing extreme pain. He rises after her) whom