Robert Greene: [Six Plays]

SCENE II.--_The Seashore near Nineveh.

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JONAS _is cast out of the Whale's belly upon the Stage._

_Jonas._ Lord of the light, thou maker of the world, Behold, thy hands of mercy rear me up! Lo, from the hideous bowels of this fish Thou hast return'd me to the wishèd air! Lo, here, apparent witness of thy power, The proud leviathan that scours the seas, And from his nostrils showers out stormy floods, Whose back resists the tempest of the wind, Whose presence makes the scaly troops to shake, With humble stress of his broad-open'd chaps, Hath lent me harbour in the raging floods! Thus, though my sin hath drawn me down to death, Thy mercy hath restorèd me to life. Bow ye, my knees; and you, my bashful eyes, Weep so for grief as you to water would. In trouble, Lord, I callèd unto thee; Out of the belly of the deepest hell I cried, and thou didst hear my voice, O God! 'Tis thou hadst cast me down into the deep: The seas and floods did compass me about; I thought I had been cast from out thy sight; The weeds were wrapt about my wretched head; I went unto the bottom of the hills: But thou, O Lord my God, hast brought me up! On thee I thought whenas my soul did faint My prayers did prease[107] before thy mercy-seat. Then will I pay my vows unto the Lord, For why salvation cometh from his throne.

_The_ Angel _appears._

_Angel._ Jonas, arise, get thee to Nineveh, And preach to them the preachings that I bade; Haste thee to see the will of heaven perform'd. [_The_ Angel _departs._

_Jonas._ Jehovah, I am prest[108] to do thy will.-- What coast is this, and where am I arriv'd? Behold sweet Lycus streaming in his bounds, Bearing the walls of haughty Nineveh, Whereas three hundred towers do tempt the heaven. Fair are thy walls, pride of Assyria; But, lo, thy sins have piercèd through the clouds! Here will I enter boldly, since I know My God commands, whose power no power resists. [_Exit._

_Oseas._ You prophets, learn by Jonas how to live; Repent your sins, whilst he doth warning give. Who knows his master's will, and doth it not, Shall suffer many stripes, full well I wot.