And whan I seigh this, I sojourned noght, But shoop me to renne, And suwed that Samaritan That was so ful of pité, And graunted hym to ben his groom. "Graunt mercy!" he seide; "Ac thi frend and thi felawe," quod he, 11540 "Thow fyndest me at nede." And I thanked hym tho, And siththe I hym tolde How that Feith fleigh awey, And _Spes_ his felawe bothe, For sighte of that sorweful man That robbed was with theves. "Have hem excused," quod he, "Hir help may litel availle; May no medicyne on molde 11550 The man to heele brynge, Neither feith ne fyn hope, So festred be hise woundes, Withouten the blood of a barn Born of a mayde. And he be bathed in that blood, Baptised as it were, And thanne plastred with penaunce And passion of that baby, {354} He sholde stonde and steppe. 11560 Ac stalworthe worth he nevere. Til he have eten al the barn, And his blood y-dronke. For wente nevere wye in this world Thorugh that wildernesse, That he ne was robbed or rifled, Rood he there or yede, Save Feith and his felawe, _Spes_, and myselve, And thiself now, 11570 And swiche as suwen oure werkes. "For outlawes in the wode And under bank lotieth, And mowen ech man see, And good mark take Who is bihynde and who bifore, And who ben on horse For he halt hym hardier on horse Than he that is foote. For he seigh me that am Samaritan 11580 Suwen Feith and his felawe On my capul that highte _caro_, Of mankynde I took it; He was unhardy that harlot, And hidde hym _in Inferno_. Ac er this day thre daies, I dar undertaken, That he worth fettred, that feloun, Faste with cheynes, And nevere eft greve gome 11590 That gooth this ilke gate. "And thanne shal Feith be forster here, {355} And in this fryth walke, And kennen out comune men That knowen noght the contree Which is the wey that I wente, And wher forth to Jerusalem. And Hope the hostilers man shal be, Ther the man lith an helyng; And alle that feble and feynte be, 11600 That Feith may noght teche, Hope shal lede hem forth with love, As his lettre telleth, And hostele hem and heele Thorugh holy chirche bileve, Til I have salve for alle sike; And thanne shal I turne, And come ayein bi this contree, And conforten alle sike That craveth it and coveiteth it, 11610 Or crieth therafter. For the barn was born in Bethleem, That with his blood shal save Alle that lyven in feith And folwen his felawes techynge." "A! swete sire," I seide tho, "Wher I shal bileve, As Feith and his felawe Enformed me bothe, In thre persones departable, 11620 That perpetuele were evere, And alle thre but o God, Thus Abraham me taughte.