Great(i)
4 No man regardeth ryghteousnes, and no man iudgeth truly. Euery man hopeth in vayne thynges, and ymagineth disceate conceaueth weerynesse, and bryngeth forth euell.
5 They brede cockatrice egges, and weaue the spyders webb: Who so eateth of their egges, dyeth. But yf one treade vpon them, there commeth vp a serpent.
6 Theyr webbe maketh no clothe, and they maye not couer them wyth their labours. Their dedes are the dedes of wyckednes, and the worcke of robbery is in their handes.
7 Theyr fete runne to euell, and they make haste to shed innocent bloude. Theyr councels are wicked councels, harme and destruccyon are in their wayes.
8 But the waye of peace they knowe not. In theyr goinges is no equyte: their wayes are so croked, that whosoeuer goeth theryn, knoweth of no peace.