Job 16
1 Forsothe Joob answeride, and seide, Y `herde ofte siche thingis;
Then Job answered,
2 alle ye ben heuy coumfortouris.
"I have heard many such things. You are all miserable comforters.
3 Whether wordis ful of wynd schulen haue an ende? ether ony thing is diseseful to thee, if thou spekist?
Shall vain words have an end? Or what provokes you that you answer?
4 Also Y myyte speke thingis lijk to you, and `Y wolde, that youre soule were for my soule; and Y wolde coumfort you by wordis, and Y wolde moue myn heed on you;
I also could speak as you do. If your soul were in my soul's place, I could join words together against you, and shake my head at you,
5 Y wolde make you stronge bi my mouth, and Y wolde moue lippis as sparynge you.
but I would strengthen you with my mouth. The solace of my lips would relieve you.
6 But what schal Y do? If Y speke, my sorewe restith not; and if Y am stille, it goith not awei fro me.
"Though I speak, my grief is not subsided. Though I forbear, what am I eased?
7 But now my sorewe hath oppressid me, and alle my lymes ben dryuun in to nouyt.
But now he has worn me out. You have laid waste all my company.
8 My ryuelyngis seien witnessyng ayens me, and a fals spekere is reisid ayens my face, and ayenseith me.
You have shriveled me up. This is a witness against me. My leanness rises up against me. It testifies to my face.
9 He gaderide togidere his woodnesse in me, and he manaasside me, and gnastide ayens me with his teeth; myn enemye bihelde me with ferdful iyen.
He has torn me in his wrath, and persecuted me. He has gnashed on me with his teeth. My adversary sharpens his eyes on me.
10 Thei openyden her mouthis on me, and thei seiden schenschip, and smytiden my cheke; and thei ben fillid with my peynes.
They have gaped on me with their mouth. They have struck me on the cheek reproachfully. They gather themselves together against me.
11 God hath closid me togidere at the wickid, and hath youe me to the hondis of wickid men.
God delivers me to the ungodly, and casts me into the hands of the wicked.
12 Y thilke riche man and famouse sum tyme, am al to brokun sudeynli; `he helde my nol; he hath broke me, and hath set me as in to a signe.
I was at ease, and he broke me apart. Yes, he has taken me by the neck, and dashed me to pieces. He has also set me up for his target.
13 He hath cumpasside me with hise speris, he woundide togidere my leendis; he sparide not, and schedde out myn entrails in to the erthe.
His archers surround me. He splits my kidneys apart, and does not spare. He pours out my gall on the ground.
14 He beet me with wounde on wounde; he as a giaunt felde in on me.
He breaks me with breach on breach. He runs on me like a giant.
15 Y sewide togidere a sak on my skyn; and Y hilide my fleisch with aische.
I have sewed sackcloth on my skin, and have thrust my horn in the dust.
16 My face bolnyde of wepynge, and myn iyeliddis wexiden derke.
My face is red with weeping. Deep darkness is on my eyelids.
17 Y suffride these thingis with out wickidnesse of myn hond, `that is, werk, whanne Y hadde cleene preieris to God.
Although there is no violence in my hands, and my prayer is pure.
18 Erthe, hile thou not my blood, and my cry fynde not in thee a place of hidyng.
"Earth, do not cover my blood. Let my cry have no place to rest.
19 `For, lo! my witnesse is in heuene; and the knowere of my consience is in hiye places.
Even now, look, my witness is in heaven. He who vouches for me is on high.
20 A! my frendis, ful of wordis, myn iye droppith to God.
My friends scoff at me. My eyes pour out tears to God,
21 And `Y wolde, that a man were demed so with God, as the sone of man is demed with his felowe.
that he would maintain the right of a man with God, of a son of man with his neighbor.
22 `For lo! schorte yeeris passen, and Y go a path, bi which Y schal not turne ayen.
For when a few years have come, I shall go the way from where I shall not return.
