Job 13
1 Lo! myn iye siy alle thingis, and myn eere herde; and Y vndurstood alle thingis.
Lo, mine eye hath seen all this, mine ear hath heard and understood it.
2 Euene with youre kunnyng also Y kan, and Y am not lowere than ye.
What ye know, do I know also; I am not inferior unto you.
3 But netheles Y schal speke to Almyyti God, and Y coueite to dispute with God;
Notwithstanding I would speak to the Almighty, and I desire to reason with God.
4 and firste Y schewe you makeris of leesyng, and louyeris of weyward techyngis.
But ye are plasterers of lies, ye are all physicians of no value.
5 And `Y wolde that ye weren stille, that ye weren gessid to be wise men.
Oh that ye would altogether hold your peace! and it would be your wisdom.
6 Therfor here ye my chastisyngis; and perseyue ye the doom of my lippis.
Hear now my reasoning, and hearken to the pleadings of my lips.
7 Whether God hath nede to youre leesyng, that ye speke gilis for hym?
Will ye speak unrighteously for God, and talk deceitfully for Him?
8 Whether ye taken his face, and enforsen to deme for God?
Will ye show Him favour? Will ye contend for God?
9 Ethir it schal plese hym, fro whom no thing mai be hid? Whether he as a man schal be disseyued with youre falsnessis?
Would it be good that He should search you out? Or as one mocketh a man, will ye mock Him?
10 He schal repreue you; for ye taken his face in hiddlis.
He will surely reprove you, if ye do secretly show favour.
11 Anoon as he schal stire hym, he schal disturble you; and his drede schal falle on you.
Shall not His majesty terrify you, and His dread fall upon you?
12 Youre mynde schal be comparisound to aische; and youre nollis schulen be dryuun in to clei.
Your memorials shall be like unto ashes, your eminences to eminences of clay.
13 Be ye stille a litil, that Y speke, what euer thing the mynde hath schewid to me.
Hold your peace, let me alone, that I may speak, and let come on me what will.
14 Whi to-rende Y my fleischis with my teeth, and bere my lijf in myn hondis?
Wherefore? I will take my flesh in my teeth, and put my life in my hand.
15 Yhe, thouy God sleeth me, Y schal hope in hym; netheles Y schal preue my weies in his siyt.
Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him; but I will argue my ways before Him.
16 And he schal be my sauyour; for whi ech ypocrite schal not come in his siyt.
This also shall be my salvation, that a hypocrite cannot come before Him.
17 Here ye my word, and perseyue ye with eeris derke and harde figuratif spechis.
Hear diligently my speech, and let my declaration be in your ears.
18 Yf Y schal be demed, Y woot that Y schal be foundun iust.
Behold now, I have ordered my cause; I know that I shall be justified.
19 Who is he that is demed with me? Come he; whi am Y stille, and am wastid?
Who is he that will contend with me? For then would I hold my peace and die.
20 Do thou not to me twei thingis oneli; and thanne Y schal not be hid fro thi face.
Only do not two things unto me, then will I not hide myself from Thee:
21 Make thin hond fer fro me; and thi drede make not me aferd.
Withdraw Thy hand far from me; and let not Thy terror make me afraid.
22 Clepe thou me, and Y schal answere thee; ethir certis Y schal speke, and thou schalt answere me.
Then call Thou, and I will answer; or let me speak, and answer Thou me.
23 Hou grete synnes and wickidnessis haue Y? Schewe thou to me my felonyes, and trespassis.
How many are mine iniquities and sins? Make me to know my transgression and my sin.
24 Whi hidist thou thi face, and demest me thin enemy?
Wherefore hidest Thou Thy face, and holdest me for Thine enemy?
25 Thou schewist thi myyt ayens a leef, which is rauyschid with the wynd; and thou pursuest drye stobil.
Wilt Thou harass a driven leaf? And wilt Thou pursue the dry stubble?
26 For thou writist bitternessis ayens me; and wolt waste me with the synnes of my yong wexynge age.
That Thou shouldest write bitter things against me, and make me to inherit the iniquities of my youth.
27 Thou hast set my foot in a stok, and thou hast kept alle my pathis; and thou hast biholde the steppis of my feet.
Thou puttest my feet also in the stocks, and lookest narrowly unto all my paths; Thou drawest Thee a line about the soles of my feet;
28 And Y schal be wastid as rot, and as a cloth, which is etun of a mouyte.
Though I am like a wine-skin that consumeth, like a garment that is moth-eaten.
