1
As for Jonas, he took it sore amiss, and was an angry man that day.
2
And thus he made his prayer to the Lord: See if this be not the very thought I had, far away in my own country! Good cause had I to seek refuge at Tharsis from such an errand as this. I knew from the first what manner of God thou art, how kind and merciful, how slow to punish, how rich in pardon, vengeance ever ready to forgo.
3
A boon of thee, Lord! Take away this life of mine; I had rather die than live.
4
Why, the Lord said, what anger is this?✻
5
Jonas had left the city, and sat now under a little arbour he had made for himself on the east of it, waiting there in the shade to see what doom would fall on Nineve.
6
And now, at the Lord God’s bidding, an ivy-plant grew up over Jonas’ head, to give him shade and shelter after his toiling; and great joy he had of his ivy-plant.
7
But when the morrow dawned, came at God’s bidding a worm, that struck at the plant’s root and killed it.
8
Up rose the sun, and at the Lord’s bidding the sirocco came; here was Jonas with the sun’s rays beating on his head, and all of a sweat. Now indeed his heart’s prayer was, he might die; Better death than life, said he.
9
Why, said the Lord, what anger is this over an ivy-plant? Deadly angry am I, Jonas answered, and no marvel either.
10
Great pity thou hast, the Lord said, for yonder ivy-plant, that was not of thy growing, and no toil cost thee; a plant that springs in a night, and in a night must wither!
11
And what of Nineve? Here is a great city, with a hundred and twenty thousand folk in it, and none of them can tell right from left, all these cattle, too; and may I not spare Nineve?
