Matthew(i)
7 So went Sathan forth from the Lorde, and smote Iob with maruelous sore byles, from the sole of the fote vnto hys crowne:
8 so that he sat vpon the grounde in the asshes and scraped of the fylth of hys sores wyth potsherde.
9 Then sayd his wyfe vnto him: Doest thou contynue in thy perfectnes? curse God, and dye.
10 But Iob sayde vnto her: Thou speakest lyke a folysh woman. Seynge we haue receyued prosperite at the hand of God, wherfore shuld we not be content with aduersyte also? In all these thynges, dyd not Iob synne with his lyppes.