¶ Iob answered, and said: I have oft times heard such things. Miserable givers of comfort are ye, all the sort of you. Shall not thy vain words come yet to an end? Or, hast thou yet any more to say? I could speak as ye do also. But would God, that your soul were in my soul's stead: then should I heap up words against you, and shake my head at you. I should comfort you with my mouth, and release your pain with the talking of my lips.
¶ But what shall I do? For all my words, my sorrow will not cease: and though I hold my tongue, yet will it not depart from me. And now that I am full of pain, and all that I have destroyed (whereof my wrinkles bear witness) there stondeth up a dissembler to make me answer with lies to my face. He is angry at me, he hateth me, and gnasheth upon me with his teeth. Mine enemy scowleth upon me with his eyes. They have opened their mouths wide upon me, and smitten me upon the cheek despitefully, they have eased themselves thorow mine adversity. God hath given me over to the ungodly, and delivered me in to the hands of the wicked. I was some time in wealth, but suddenly hath he brought me to naught. He hath taken me by the neck, he hath rent me, and set me, as it were a mark for him to shoot at. He hath compassed me round about with his darts, he hath wounded my loins, and not spared. My bowels hath he poured upon the ground. He hath given me one wound upon another, and is fallen upon me like a giant. I have sowed a sack cloth upon my skin, and lie with my strength in the dust. My face is swollen with weeping, and mine eyes are waxen dim.
¶ Howbeit there is no wickedness in my hands, and my prayer is clean. O earth, cover not my blood, and let my crying find no room. For lo, my witness is in heaven, and he that knoweth me, is above in the height. My friends laugh me to scorn, but mine eye poureth out tears unto God. Though a body might plead with God, as one man doth with another, yet the number of my years are come, and I must go the way, from whence I shall not turn again.