Chapter 4

As for Jonas, he took it sore amiss, and was an angry man that day.

And thus he made his prayer to the Lord: See if this be not the very thought I had, far away in my own country! Good cause had I to seek refuge at Tharsis from such an errand as this. I knew from the first what manner of God thou art, how kind and merciful, how slow to punish, how rich in pardon, vengeance ever ready to forgo.

A boon of thee, Lord! Take away this life of mine; I had rather die than live.

Why, the Lord said, what anger is this?

Jonas had left the city, and sat now under a little arbour he had made for himself on the east of it, waiting there in the shade to see what doom would fall on Nineve.

And now, at the Lord God’s bidding, an ivy-plant grew up over Jonas’ head, to give him shade and shelter after his toiling; and great joy he had of his ivy-plant.

But when the morrow dawned, came at God’s bidding a worm, that struck at the plant’s root and killed it.

Up rose the sun, and at the Lord’s bidding the sirocco came; here was Jonas with the sun’s rays beating on his head, and all of a sweat. Now indeed his heart’s prayer was, he might die; Better death than life, said he.

Why, said the Lord, what anger is this over an ivy-plant? Deadly angry am I, Jonas answered, and no marvel either.

Great pity thou hast, the Lord said, for yonder ivy-plant, that was not of thy growing, and no toil cost thee; a plant that springs in a night, and in a night must wither!

And what of Nineve? Here is a great city, with a hundred and twenty thousand folk in it, and none of them can tell right from left, all these cattle, too; and may I not spare Nineve?