Job 13

1 Lo! myn iye siy alle thingis, and myn eere herde; and Y vndurstood alle thingis.

2 Euene with youre kunnyng also Y kan, and Y am not lowere than ye.

3 But netheles Y schal speke to Almyyti God, and Y coueite to dispute with God;

4 and firste Y schewe you makeris of leesyng, and louyeris of weyward techyngis.

5 And `Y wolde that ye weren stille, that ye weren gessid to be wise men.

6 Therfor here ye my chastisyngis; and perseyue ye the doom of my lippis.

7 Whether God hath nede to youre leesyng, that ye speke gilis for hym?

8 Whether ye taken his face, and enforsen to deme 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?

10 He schal repreue you; for ye taken his face in hiddlis.

11 Anoon as he schal stire hym, he schal disturble you; and his drede schal falle on you.

12 Youre mynde schal be comparisound to aische; and youre nollis schulen be dryuun in to clei.

13 Be ye stille a litil, that Y speke, what euer thing the mynde hath schewid to me.

14 Whi to-rende Y my fleischis with my teeth, and bere my lijf in myn hondis?

15 Yhe, thouy God sleeth me, Y schal hope in hym; netheles Y schal preue my weies in his siyt.

16 And he schal be my sauyour; for whi ech ypocrite schal not come in his siyt.

17 Here ye my word, and perseyue ye with eeris derke and harde figuratif spechis.

18 Yf Y schal be demed, Y woot that Y schal be foundun iust.

19 Who is he that is demed with me? Come he; whi am Y stille, and am wastid?

20 Do thou not to me twei thingis oneli; and thanne Y schal not be hid fro thi face.

21 Make thin hond fer fro me; and thi drede make not me aferd.

22 Clepe thou me, and Y schal answere thee; ethir certis Y schal speke, and thou schalt answere me.

23 Hou grete synnes and wickidnessis haue Y? Schewe thou to me my felonyes, and trespassis.

24 Whi hidist thou thi face, and demest me thin enemy?

25 Thou schewist thi myyt ayens a leef, which is rauyschid with the wynd; and thou pursuest drye stobil.

26 For thou writist bitternessis ayens me; and wolt waste me with the synnes of my yong wexynge age.

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.

28 And Y schal be wastid as rot, and as a cloth, which is etun of a mouyte.