“ Vndernyme þee shal þi malice, and þi turnyng away shal blame þee; wite and see, for euel and bitter it is þee to han forsaken þe Lord þi God, and his drede not to ben anent þee, seiþ þe Lord God of ostes. From þe world þou hast al to-broste my ȝoc, to-broke my bondis, and seidist, I shal not serue. In eche forsoþe hyȝ hil, and vnder eche braunchy tree þou were þrowe doun a strumpet. I forsoþe plauntede þee a chosen vyneȝerd, al verre sed; what maner þanne þou art turned to me in to a shreude þing, an aliene vyne? ”

“ I vsurede not, ne to me vsurede any man; alle cursen to me. Seiþ þe Lord, if not þi relikes in to good, if Y aȝen cam not to þee in tyme of affliccioun, and in tyme of tribulacioun and of anguysh, aȝen þe enemye. Wheþer shal be ioyned iren to iren fro þe norþ, and bras? Þi richesses and þi tresores in to taking awei Y shal ȝyue freely, in alle þi synnes, and in alle þi termes. And I shal bringe þin enemys fro þe lond þat þou knowist not; for fyer tend vp is in my wodnesse, vp on ȝou it shal brenne. Þou wost, Lord, recorde þou of me, and visite me, and delyuere me fro þem þat pursuen me ”

“ To þis puple forsoþe is mad an herte mystrowende and oute sharpende; þei wente bacward, and ȝiden awei, and seiden not in þer herte, Drede wee þe Lord oure God, þat ȝyueþ to vs tymeli rein, and late comende in his cesoun, plentenesse of ȝeres rip comende to vs. Oure wickenesses boweden doun þese þingus, and oure synnes defendeden good fro vs. For þer ben founden in my puple vnpitous men, waitende as fouleres, grenes puttende, and feet gynnes, to ben caȝt men. As a pit falle ful of briddes, so þe hous of hem ful of treccherie. ”

“ And confoundid shal be Moab fro Camos, as confoundid is þe hous of Irael of Beþel, in whiche it hadde trost. What maner sey ȝee, Stronge men wee ben, and stalwrþe men to fiȝte? Wastid is Moab, and his cites þei brenden vp, and hys chosen ȝunge men wente doun in to slaȝter, seiþ þe king, Lord of ostus his name. Nyȝ is þe deþ of Moab, þat it come, and his euel swiftli comeþ nyȝ ful myche. Coumforteþ hym, alle ȝee þat ben in his cumpas; alle ȝee þat witen his name, seiþ, What maner is to-broke þe stronge ȝerde, þe glorious staf? ”