Job 16

¹Forsothe Joob answeride, and seide, Y `herde ofte siche thingis;

²alle ye ben heuy coumfortouris.

³Whether wordis ful of wynd schulen haue an ende? ether ony thing is diseseful to thee, if thou spekist?

⁴Also Y myyte speke thingis lijk to you, and `Y wolde, that youre soule were for my soule;

⁵and Y wolde coumfort you by wordis, and Y wolde moue myn heed on you;

⁶Y wolde make you stronge bi my mouth, and Y wolde moue lippis as sparynge you.

⁷But what schal Y do? If Y speke, my sorewe restith not; and if Y am stille, it goith not awei fro me.

⁸But now my sorewe hath oppressid me, and alle my lymes ben dryuun in to nouyt.

⁹My ryuelyngis seien witnessyng ayens me, and a fals spekere is reisid ayens my face, and ayenseith me.

¹⁰He gaderide togidere his woodnesse in me, and he manaasside me, and gnastide ayens me with his teeth; myn enemye bihelde me with ferdful iyen.

¹¹Thei openyden her mouthis on me, and thei seiden schenschip, and smytiden my cheke; and thei ben fillid with my peynes.

¹²God hath closid me togidere at the wickid, and hath youe me to the hondis of wickid men.

¹³Y thilke riche man and famouse sum tyme, am al to brokun sudeynli; `he helde my nol; he hath broke me, and hath set me as in to a signe.

¹⁴He hath cumpasside me with hise speris, he woundide togidere my leendis; he sparide not, and schedde out myn entrails in to the erthe.

¹⁵He beet me with wounde on wounde; he as a giaunt felde in on me.

¹⁶Y sewide togidere a sak on my skyn; and Y hilide my fleisch with aische.

¹⁷My face bolnyde of wepynge, and myn iyeliddis wexiden derke.

¹⁸Y suffride these thingis with out wickidnesse of myn hond, `that is, werk, whanne Y hadde cleene preieris to God.

¹⁹Erthe, hile thou not my blood, and my cry fynde not in thee a place of hidyng.

²⁰`For, lo! my witnesse is in heuene; and the knowere of my consience is in hiye places.

²¹A! my frendis, ful of wordis, myn iye droppith to God.

²²And `Y wolde, that a man were demed so with God, as the sone of man is demed with his felowe.

²³`For lo! schorte yeeris passen, and Y go a path, bi which Y schal not turne ayen.

¹Then Job answered and said,

²I have heard many such things: miserable comforters are ye all.

³Shall vain words have an end? or what emboldeneth thee that thou answerest?

⁴I also could speak as ye do: if your soul were in my soul’s stead, I could heap up words against you, and shake mine head at you.

⁵But I would strengthen you with my mouth, and the moving of my lips should asswage your grief.

⁶Though I speak, my grief is not asswaged: and though I forbear, what am I eased?

⁷But now he hath made me weary: thou hast made desolate all my company.

⁸And thou hast filled me with wrinkles, which is a witness against me: and my leanness rising up in me beareth witness to my face.

⁹He teareth me in his wrath, who hateth me: he gnasheth upon me with his teeth; mine enemy sharpeneth his eyes upon me.

¹⁰They have gaped upon me with their mouth; they have smitten me upon the cheek reproachfully; they have gathered themselves together against me.

¹¹God hath delivered me to the ungodly, and turned me over into the hands of the wicked.

¹²I was at ease, but he hath broken me asunder: he hath also taken me by my neck, and shaken me to pieces, and set me up for his mark.

¹³His archers compass me round about, he cleaveth my reins asunder, and doth not spare; he poureth out my gall upon the ground.

¹⁴He breaketh me with breach upon breach, he runneth upon me like a giant.

¹⁵I have sewed sackcloth upon my skin, and defiled my horn in the dust.

¹⁶My face is foul with weeping, and on my eyelids is the shadow of death;

¹⁷Not for any injustice in mine hands: also my prayer is pure.

¹⁸O earth, cover not thou my blood, and let my cry have no place.

¹⁹Also now, behold, my witness is in heaven, and my record is on high.

²⁰My friends scorn me: but mine eye poureth out tears unto God.

²¹O that one might plead for a man with God, as a man pleadeth for his neighbour!

²²When a few years are come, then I shall go the way whence I shall not return.