Great(i)
7 So went Satan forth from the presence of the Lord, and smote Iob with maruelous sore byles, from the sole of hys fote vnto hys crowne:
8 so that he sat vpon the ground in the asshes, and scraped of the fylth of hys sores with a potsherde.
9 Then sayde hys wyfe vnto hym: Dost thou contynue yet in thy perfectnesse? curse God & dye.
10 But Iob sayde vnto her: Thou speakest lyke a folysh woman. Shal we receaue prosperite at the hand of God, and not receaue aduersite? In all these thinges, did not Iob synne with his lyppes.