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The Woman's mad, quoth Soloman,
That thus doth taunt a King.
Not half so mad as you, she said,
I know in many a thing.
Thou haddest Seven Hundred Wives,
For whom thou did'st provide,
Yet for all this, three hundred Whores,
Thou did'st maintain beside.
And those made thee forsake thy God,
And worship stocks and stones;
Besides the charge they put thee too
In breeding of young bones.
Had'st thou not been besides thy Wits,
Thou would'st not thus have ventur'd;
And therefore I do marvel much
How thou this place hast enter'd.
I never heard, quoth Jonas then,
So vile a scold as this,
Thou Whore-son, runaway, quoth she
Thou diddest more amiss.
