Far from that haunt all other chearefull fowle; When as the gentle Redcrosse Knight did vew, And all about it wandring ghostes did wayle With firie zeale he burnt in courage bold, Him to avenge, before his blood were cold; And to the villein sayd: 'Thou damned and howle. XXXIV wight, The authour of this fact we here behold, What justice can but judge against thee right, With thine owne blood to price his blood, here shed in sight? XXXVIII 'What franticke fit,' quoth he, 'hath thus distraught Thee, foolish man, so rash a doome to give? What justice ever other judgement taught, But he should dye, who merites not to live? None els to death this man despayring drive, But his owne guiltie mind deserving death. XXXIX 'Who travailes by the wearie wandring way, To come unto his wished home in haste, And meetes a flood, that doth his passage stay, Is not great grace to helpe him over past, Or free his feet, that in the myre sticke fast? Most envious man, that grieves at neighbours good, And fond, that joyest in the woe thou hast ! Why wilt not let him passe, that long hath stood Upon the bancke, yet wilt thy selfe not pas the flood? XL 'He there does now enjoy eternall rest And happy ease, which thou doest want and crave, And further from it daily wanderest: Is not short payne well borne, that bringes long ease, And layes the soule to sleepe in quiet grave? |