Great(i)
2 Wolde God, that I had a cotage some where farre from folcke, that I myght leaue my people, and goo from them: for they be all aduoutrers & a shrynckynge sorte.
3 They bende theyr tunges lyke bowes, to shote out lyes. They wax stronge vpon erthe. As for the trueth, they maye nothynge awaye with all in the worlde. For they go from one wyckednes to another, and wyll not knowe me, sayeth the Lorde.
4 Yee, one must kepe hym selfe from another, no man may safely trust his awne brother: for one brother vndermyndeth another, one neyghboure begileth another.
5 Yee one dissembleh wt another, and they deale wt no trueth. They haue practysed theyr tunges to lye, & taken great paynes to do mischefe.
6 Thou syttest in the myddes of a dysceatfull people, which for very dissemblyng falshede, wyll not knowe me, sayeth the Lord.
7 Therfore, thus sayeth the Lorde of Hostes: beholde, I wyll melte them, and trye them, for what shuld I els do to my people.