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¹ And Jonas was turmentid with greet turment, and was wrooth.² And he preiede the Lord, and seide, Lord, Y biseche, whether this is not my word, whanne Y was yit in my lond? For this thing Y purposide, for to fle in to Tharsis; for Y woot, that thou, God, art meke and merciful, pacient, and of merciful doyng, and foryyuynge on malice.³ And now, Lord, Y preie, take my soule fro me; for deth is betere to me than lijf.⁴ And the Lord seide, Gessist thou, whether thou art wel wrooth?

⁵ And Jonas wente out of the citee, and sat ayens the eest of the citee, and made to hym a schadewyng place there; and sat vndur it in schadewe, til he sai what bifelle to the citee.⁶ And the Lord God made redy an yuy, and it stiede vp on the heed of Jonas, that schadewe were on his heed, and kyueride hym; for he hadde trauelid. And Jonas was glad on the yuy, with greet gladnesse.⁷ And God made redi a worm, in stiyng up of grei dai on the morewe; and it smoot the yuy, and it driede up.⁸ And whanne the sunne was risun, the Lord comaundide to the hoot wynd and brennyng; and the sunne smoot on the heed of Jonas, and he swalide. And he axide to his soule that he schulde die, and seide, It is betere to me for to die, than for to lyue.⁹ And the Lord seide to Jonas, Gessist thou, whether thou art wel wrooth on the yuy? And he seide, Y am wel wrooth, til to the deth.¹⁰ And the Lord seide, Thou art sori on the yuy, in which thou trauelidist not, nether madist that it wexide, which was growun vndur o nyyt, and perischide in o nyyt.¹¹ And schal Y not spare the grete citee Nynyue, in which ben more than sixe score thousynde of men, which witen not what is betwixe her riyt half and left, and many beestis?