_Jonas._ Prostrate I lie before the Lord of hosts, With humble ears intending[87] his behest: Ah, honour'd be Jehovah's great command! Then Jonas must to Nineveh repair, Commanded as the prophet of the Lord. Great dangers on this journey do await, But dangers none where heavens direct the course. What should I deem? I see, yea, sighing see, How Israel sins, yet knows the way of truth, And thereby grows the bye-word of the world. How, then, should God in judgment be so strict 'Gainst those who never heard or knew his power. To threaten utter ruin of them all? Should I report this judgment of my God, I should incite them more to follow sin, And publish to the world my country's blame. It may not be, my conscience tells me--no. Ah, Jonas, wilt thou prove rebellious then? Consider, ere thou fall, what error is. My mind misgives: to Joppa will I fly, And for a while to Tharsus shape my course, Until the Lord unfret his angry brows. _Enter certain_ Merchants _of_ Tharsus, _a_ Master, _and some_ Sailors. _Master._ Come on, brave merchants; now the wind doth serve, And sweetly blows a gale at west-south-west, Our yards across; our anchor's on the pike; What, shall we hence, and take this merry gale? _First Mer._ Sailors, convey our budgets straight aboard, And we will recompense your pains at last: If once in safety we may Tharsus see, Master, we'll feast these merry mates and thee. _Master._ Meanwhile content yourselves with silly cates; Our beds are boards, our feasts are full of mirth: We use no pomp, we are the lords of sea; When princes sweat in care, we swink[88] of glee. Orion's shoulders and the Pointers serve To be our loadstars in the lingering night; The beauties of Arcturus we behold; And though the sailor is no bookman held, He knows more art than ever bookmen read. _First Sai._ By heavens, well said in honour of our trade! Let's see the proudest scholar steer his course, Or shift his tides, as silly sailors do; Then will we yield them praise, else never none. _First Mer._ Well spoken, fellow, in thine own behalf. But let us hence: wind tarries none, you wot, And tide and time let slip is hardly got. _Master._ March to the haven, merchants; I follow you. [_Exeunt_ Merchants. _Jonas_ [_aside_]. Now doth occasion further my desires; I find companions fit to aid my flight.-- Stay, sir, I pray, and hear a word or two. _Master._ Say on, good friend, but briefly, if you please; My passengers by this time are aboard. _Jonas._ Whither pretend[89] you to embark yourselves? _Master._ To Tharsus, sir, and here in Joppa-haven Our ship is prest[90] and ready to depart. _Jonas._ May I have passage for my money, then?