Job 13
1 Lo! myn iye siy alle thingis, and myn eere herde; and Y vndurstood alle thingis.
"Look, my eye has seen all this. My ear has heard and understood it.
2 Euene with youre kunnyng also Y kan, and Y am not lowere than ye.
What you know, I know also. I am not inferior to you.
3 But netheles Y schal speke to Almyyti God, and Y coueite to dispute with God;
"Surely I would speak to Shaddai. I desire to reason with God.
4 and firste Y schewe you makeris of leesyng, and louyeris of weyward techyngis.
But you are forgers of lies. You are all physicians of no value.
5 And `Y wolde that ye weren stille, that ye weren gessid to be wise men.
Oh that you would be completely silent. Then you would be wise.
6 Therfor here ye my chastisyngis; and perseyue ye the doom of my lippis.
Hear now my reasoning. Listen to the pleadings of my lips.
7 Whether God hath nede to youre leesyng, that ye speke gilis for hym?
Will you speak unrighteously for God, and talk deceitfully for him?
8 Whether ye taken his face, and enforsen to deme for God?
Will you show partiality to him? Will you 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?
Is it good that he should search you out? Or as one deceives a man, will you deceive him?
10 He schal repreue you; for ye taken his face in hiddlis.
He will surely reprove you if you secretly show partiality.
11 Anoon as he schal stire hym, he schal disturble you; and his drede schal falle on you.
Shall not his majesty make you afraid, And his dread fall on you?
12 Youre mynde schal be comparisound to aische; and youre nollis schulen be dryuun in to clei.
Your memorable sayings are proverbs of ashes, Your defenses are defenses of clay.
13 Be ye stille a litil, that Y speke, what euer thing the mynde hath schewid to me.
"Be silent, leave me alone, that I may speak. Let come on me what will.
14 Whi to-rende Y my fleischis with my teeth, and bere my lijf in myn hondis?
Why should I 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.
Look, he will kill me. I have no hope. Nevertheless, I will maintain 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 godless man shall not come before him.
17 Here ye my word, and perseyue ye with eeris derke and harde figuratif spechis.
Hear diligently my speech. Let my declaration be in your ears.
18 Yf Y schal be demed, Y woot that Y schal be foundun iust.
See now, I have set my cause in order. I know that I am righteous.
19 Who is he that is demed with me? Come he; whi am Y stille, and am wastid?
Who is he who will contend with me? For then would I hold my peace and give up the spirit.
20 Do thou not to me twei thingis oneli; and thanne Y schal not be hid fro thi face.
"Only do not do two things to me; then I will not hide myself from your face:
21 Make thin hond fer fro me; and thi drede make not me aferd.
withdraw your hand far from me; and do not let your 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, and I will answer; or let me speak, and you answer me.
23 Hou grete synnes and wickidnessis haue Y? Schewe thou to me my felonyes, and trespassis.
How many are my iniquities and sins? Make me know my disobedience and my sin.
24 Whi hidist thou thi face, and demest me thin enemy?
Why hide you your face, and hold me for your enemy?
25 Thou schewist thi myyt ayens a leef, which is rauyschid with the wynd; and thou pursuest drye stobil.
Will you harass a driven leaf? Will you pursue the dry stubble?
26 For thou writist bitternessis ayens me; and wolt waste me with the synnes of my yong wexynge age.
For you write bitter things against me, and make me 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.
You also put my feet in the stocks, and mark all my paths. You set a bound to 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 decaying like a rotten thing, like a garment that is moth-eaten.
