Job 41

1 Can you draw out leviathan (sea serpent) with an hook? or his tongue with a cord which you let down?

2 Can you put an hook into his nose? or bore his jaw through with a thorn?

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

4 Will he make a covenant with you? will you take him for a servant for ever?

5 Will you play with him as with a bird? or will you bind him for your maidens?

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

7 Can you fill his skin with barbed irons? or his head with fish spears?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

21 His breath kindles coals, and a flame goes out of his mouth.

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

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

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

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

26 The sword of him that lays at him cannot hold: the spear, the dart, nor the armour of jacket.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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