Job 12

¹ For he woundith, and doith medicyn; he smytith, and hise hondis schulen make hool. ² In sixe tribulaciouns he schal delyuere thee, and in the seuenthe tribulacioun yuel schal not touche thee. ³ In hungur he schal delyuere thee fro deeth, and in batel fro the power of swerd. ⁴ Thou schalt be hid fro the scourge of tunge, and thou schalt not drede myseiste, ethir wretchidnesse, whanne it cometh. 5 In distriyng maad of enemyes and in hungur thou schalt leiye, and thou schalt not drede the beestis of erthe. 6 But thi couenaunt schal be with the stonys of erthe, and beestis of erthe schulen be pesible to thee. 7 And thou schalt wite, that thi tabernacle hath pees, and thou visitynge thi fairnesse schalt not do synne. 8 And thou schalt wite also, that thi seed schal be many fold, and thi generacioun schal be as an erbe of erthe. 9 In abundaunce thou schalt go in to the sepulcre, as an heep of wheete is borun in his tyme. 10 Lo! this is so, as we han souyt; which thing herd, trete thou in minde. 12 Forsothe Joob answeride, and seide, 13 Y wolde, that my synnes, bi whiche Y desseruede ire, and the wretchidnesse which Y suffre, weren peisid in a balaunce. ¹⁴ As the grauel of the see, this wretchidnesse schulde appere greuousere; wherfor and my wordis ben ful of sorewe. ¹⁵ For the arowis of the Lord ben in me, the indignacioun of whiche drynkith vp my spirit; and the dredis of the Lord fiyten ayens me. ¹⁶ Whether a feeld asse schal rore, whanne he hath gras? Ethir whether an oxe schal lowe, whanne he stondith byfor a ful cratche? 17 Ether whethir a thing vnsauery may be etun, which is not maad sauery bi salt? Ether whether ony man may taaste a thing, which tastid bryngith deeth? For whi to an hungri soule, yhe, bittir thingis semen to be swete; tho thingis whiche my soule nolde touche bifore, ben now my meetis for angwisch. 19 Who yyueth, that myn axyng come; and that God yyue to me that, that Y abide? 20 And he that bigan, al to-breke me; releesse he his hond, and kitte me doun? 21 And this be coumfort to me, that he turmente me with sorewe, and spare not, and that Y ayenseie not the wordis of the hooli. ²² For whi, what is my strengthe, that Y suffre? ethir which is myn ende, that Y do pacientli? ²³ Nethir my strengthe is the strengthe of stoonus, nether my fleisch is of bras. ²⁴ Lo! noon help is to me in me; also my meyneal frendis `yeden awey fro me. ²⁵ He that takith awei merci fro his frend, forsakith the drede of the Lord.