Yea, but, mast[er] Parson! think ye it were right,
That, if I desired you to make my black ox white;
And you say, "It is done!" and still is black in sight;
Ye might me deem a fool, for to believe so light?
Parson.
I marvel much, ye will reason so far!
I fear if ye use it, it will ye mar!
John.
No, no, sir! I trust of that I shall be 'ware,
I pray you, with your matter again forth to fare!
Parson.
And then we go forth, and Christ's body receive;
Even the very same that Mary did conceive.
John.
The devil it is! Ye have a great grace
To eat GOD and Man in so short a space.