Great(i)
6 With that sayde the Lorde God on thys maner. Wo be vnto the bloudy cytie of the pot, wherupon the rustynes hangeth, & is not yet scoured awaye. Take out the peces that are in it, one after another: there neade not lottes be cast therfore,
7 for the bloude is yet in it. Upon a playne drye stone hath she powred it, & not vpon the grounde, that it myght be couered wt dust.
8 And therfore haue I letten her powre her bloude vpon a playne drye stony rocke, because it shulde not be hyd, and that I myght brynge my wrothfull indignacyon & vengeaunce vpon her.
9 Wherfore, thus sayth the Lord God: O, wo be vnto the bloud thurstye cyte, for whom euen I my selfe will make a grett fyre and sett moche woode,