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 Mind quoth ſhe thy latter days,

What fool gods thou didſt upset,

And was so lewd in Venus plays,

Thou did thy maker quite forget,

Then Jonas ſaid Fair maid content you.

If you intend to come to grace

You muſt dree pennance and repent you,

'Ere you can come into this place.

Jonas, quoth ſhe, how ſtands the caſe,

How came you here to be with Chriſt?

How dare you look him in the face,

Considering how you broke your tryſt,

To God's errand thou withſtood him,

And heldſt his counsel in diſdain,

The corby messenger thou plaid'ſt him,

And brought no message back again:

With mercy thou waſt not content,

When God the Ninevites did ſpare;

Although the city did repent,

It grieved thee, thy heart was ſore.

Let me alone and ſpeak no more,

Go back into the Whale,

But now my heart is alſo ſore.

But yet I hope I ſhall prevail,

Good Jonas ſaid. Crack on your fill,

For here I may no longer tarry ;

Yet kock as long as ever you will,

And go into a firry farry.

Jonas ſhe ſa s ye do miſcarry,

As I have done in former time.

Ye're not Saint Peter nor Saint Mary,

You're blots as blaokblack [sic] as ever mine.