And as we wenten in the way, thus wordyng of this matere,
Thenne saw we a Samaritan, cam sittynge on a muyle,
Rydynge ful raply the right way we yeden,
Comynge fram a contreye that men callide Jerico,
To joust in Jerusalem he jaced awey ful faste.
Bothe Abraham and Spes and he mette at ones
In a wilde wildernesse where theves hadde ybounde
A man, as me tho thouhte, to moche care they brouhte;
For he ne myhte stepe ne stande, ne stere fot ne handes,
Ne helpe hymsulve sothly, for semyvyf he semede,
And as naked as a nedle, and non helpe abouten.
 Fayth hadde furst of hym siht, ac he fleyh asyde,
And wolde nat neyhele hym by nyne londes lenghe.
 Hope cam huppynge aftur, that hadde so ybosted
How he with Moyses maundement hadde mony men yholpe;
Ac when he hadde sihte of this syke, asyde he gan hym drawe,
And dredfully withdrow hym tho and durste go no nerre hym.
 Ac so sone so the Samaritan hadde sihte of this careful,
Alihte anon of lyard and ladde hym in his handes
And to this wey he wente, his woundes to byholde.
He perseyvede by his pous he was in perel to deye,
And bote if he hadde recover the rather that ryse sholde he nevere,
And unbokelede his boteles and bothe he atamede;
With wyn and with oyle his woundes he can lithe,
Enbaumed hym and bond his heved and on bayard hym sette
And ladde hym forth to lavacrum-lex-dei , a grange,
Is syxe myle or sevene bisyde the newe market,
And lefte hym there a-lechyng, to lyve yf he myhte;
And tok two pans the hostiler to take kepe to hym,
‘And that more goth for his medicyne I make the good ageynward,
For I may nat lette,’ quod that lede, and lyard he bystrideth,
And rapede hym to ryde the rihte way to Jerusalem.
Bothe Fayth and his felawe Spes folewede faste aftur,
Ac I sewede the Samaritan and saide how they bothe
Were afered, and flowe fram the man ywounded.
 ‘Have hem excused,’ quod he, the Samaritan, ‘here helpe may nat availe,
Ne no medicyne under molde the man to hele brynge,
Nother Faith ne fyn Hope, so festred aren his woundes.
Withoute the blod of a barn he beth nat ysaved,
The whiche barn mote nedes be born of a mayde,
And with the blod of that barn enbaumed and ybaptised.
And thouh he stande and steppe, right stronge worth he nevere
Til he have eten al that barn and his blod dronken,
And yut be plastered with pacience when fondynges hym priketh,
(For wente nevere man this way that he ne was here yryfled,
Save mysulve sothly, and suche as I lovede),
And yut bote they leve lelly upon that litel baby,
That his lycame shal lechen at the laste us alle.’
 ‘Ah, sire,’ I saide, ‘shal nat we bileve,
As Faith and his felawe Spes enformede me bothe,
In thre persones, a parceles departable fram other,
And alle thre bote a god? Thus Abraham me tauhte.
And Hope afturward of o god more me tolde,
And lered me for his love to lovye al mankynde
And hym above alle and hem as mysulve;
Nother lacke ne alose, ne leve that ther were
Eny wikkedere in the worlde then I were mysulve,
And most imparfit of alle persones, and pacientliche soffre
Alle manere men, and thogh I myhte venge,
I sholde tholye and thonken hem that me evel wolden.’
 ‘He saide soth,’ quod the Samaritan, ‘and so I rede the also.
And as Abraham the olde of o god the taughte,
Loke thow lovye and bileve al thy lyf-tyme.
And yf Kynde Wit carpe here-agen, or eny kyne thouhtes,
Other eretikes with argumentis—thin hond that thow hem shewe!’