Coverdale(i)
39 Then wente there one into the felde, to gather herbes, and founde a Cucumbers stalke, & gathered wylde Cucumbers therof his cotefull. And whan he came, he chopped it small for potage to the pott, for they knewe it not.
40 And wha they poured it forth for the me to eate, & they ate of ye potage, they cried and sayde: O thou man of God, death is in the pot: for they mighte not eate it.
41 Neuertheles he sayde: Brynge meel hither. And he put it in the pot, & sayde: Poure it out for the people, that they maye eate. And then was it not bytter in the pot.