Job 41

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¹I not as cruel schal reise hym; for who may ayenstonde my face?

²And who `yaf to me bifore, that Y yelde to hym? Alle thingis, that ben vndur heuene, ben myne.

³Y schal not spare hym for myyti wordis, and maad faire to biseche.

⁴Who schal schewe the face of his clothing, and who schal entre in to the myddis of his mouth?

⁵Who schal opene the yatis of his cheer? ferdfulnesse is bi the cumpas of hise teeth.

⁶His bodi is as yotun scheldys of bras, and ioyned togidere with scalis ouerleiynge hem silf.

⁷Oon is ioyned to another; and sotheli brething goith not thorouy tho.

⁸Oon schal cleue to anothir, and tho holdynge hem silf schulen not be departid.

⁹His fnesynge is as schynynge of fier, and hise iyen ben as iyelidis of the morewtid.

¹⁰Laumpis comen forth of his mouth, as trees of fier, that ben kyndlid.

¹¹Smoke cometh forth of hise nosethirlis, as of a pot set on the fier `and boilynge.

¹²His breeth makith colis to brenne, and flawme goith out of his mouth.

¹³Strengthe schal dwelle in his necke, and nedynesse schal go bifor his face.

¹⁴The membris of hise fleischis ben cleuynge togidere to hem silf; God schal sende floodis ayens hym, and tho schulen not be borun to an other place.

¹⁵His herte schal be maad hard as a stoon; and it schal be streyned togidere as the anefeld of a smith.

¹⁶Whanne he schal be takun awei, aungels schulen drede; and thei aferd schulen be purgid.

¹⁷Whanne swerd takith hym, it may not stonde, nethir spere, nether haburioun.

¹⁸For he schal arette irun as chaffis, and bras as rotun tre.

¹⁹A man archere schal not dryue hym awei; stoonys of a slynge ben turned in to stobil to hym.

²⁰He schal arette an hamer as stobil; and he schal scorne a florischynge spere.

²¹The beemys of the sunne schulen be vndur hym; and he schal strewe to hym silf gold as cley.

²²He schal make the depe se to buyle as a pot; and he schal putte, as whanne oynementis buylen.

²³A path schal schyne aftir hym; he schal gesse the greet occian as wexynge eld.

²⁴No power is on erthe, that schal be comparisound to hym; which is maad, that he schulde drede noon.

²⁵He seeth al hiy thing; he is kyng ouer alle the sones of pride.

Job 41

¹Canst thou draw out leviathan with an hook? or his tongue with a cord which thou lettest down?

²Canst thou put an hook into his nose? or bore his jaw through with a thorn?

³Will he make many supplications unto thee? will he speak soft words unto thee?

⁴Will he make a covenant with thee? wilt thou take him for a servant for ever?

⁵Wilt thou play with him as with a bird? or wilt thou bind him for thy maidens?

⁶Shall the companions make a banquet of him? shall they part him among the merchants?

⁷Canst thou fill his skin with barbed irons? or his head with fish spears?

⁸Lay thine hand upon him, remember the battle, do no more.

⁹Behold, the hope of him is in vain: shall not one be cast down even at the sight of him?

¹⁰None is so fierce that dare stir him up: who then is able to stand before me?

¹¹Who hath prevented me, that I should repay him? whatsoever is under the whole heaven is mine.

¹²I will not conceal his parts, nor his power, nor his comely proportion.

¹³Who can discover the face of his garment? or who can come to him with his double bridle?

¹⁴Who can open the doors of his face? his teeth are terrible round about.

¹⁵His scales are his pride, shut up together as with a close seal.

¹⁶One is so near to another, that no air can come between them.

¹⁷They are joined one to another, they stick together, that they cannot be sundered.

¹⁸By his neesings a light doth shine, and his eyes are like the eyelids of the morning.

¹⁹Out of his mouth go burning lamps, and sparks of fire leap out.

²⁰Out of his nostrils goeth smoke, as out of a seething pot or caldron.

²¹His breath kindleth coals, and a flame goeth out of his mouth.

²²In his neck remaineth strength, and sorrow is turned into joy before him.

²³The flakes of his flesh are joined together: they are firm in themselves; they cannot be moved.

²⁴His heart is as firm as a stone; yea, as hard as a piece of the nether millstone.

²⁵When he raiseth up himself, the mighty are afraid: by reason of breakings they purify themselves.

²⁶The sword of him that layeth at him cannot hold: the spear, the dart, nor the habergeon.

²⁷He esteemeth iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood.

²⁸The arrow cannot make him flee: slingstones are turned with him into stubble.

²⁹Darts are counted as stubble: he laugheth at the shaking of a spear.

³⁰Sharp stones are under him: he spreadeth sharp pointed things upon the mire.

³¹He maketh the deep to boil like a pot: he maketh the sea like a pot of ointment.

³²He maketh a path to shine after him; one would think the deep to be hoary.

³³Upon earth there is not his like, who is made without fear.

³⁴He beholdeth all high things: he is a king over all the children of pride.