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Or will he speak soft words unto thee?

²⁸Will he make a covenant with thee,

That thou shouldest take him for a servant for ever?

²⁹Wilt thou play with him as with a bird?

Or wilt thou bind him for thy maidens?

³⁰Will the bands of fishermen make a banquet of him?

Will they part him among the merchants?

³¹Canst thou fill his skin with barbed irons?

Or his head with fish-spears?

³²Lay thy hand upon him;

Think upon the battle, thou wilt do so no more.

 

41 Behold, the hope of him is in vain;

Shall not one be cast down even at the sight of him?

²None is so fierce that dare stir him up;

Who then is able to stand before Me?

³Who hath given Me anything beforehand, that I should repay him?

Whatsoever is under the whole heaven is Mine.

⁴Would I keep silence concerning his boastings,

Or his proud talk, or his fair array of words?

 

⁵Who can uncover the face of his garment?

Who shall come within his double bridle?

⁶Who can open the doors of his face?

Round about his teeth is terror.

⁷His scales are his pride,

Shut up together as with a close seal.

⁸One is so near to another,

That no air can come between them.

⁹They are joined one to another;

They stick together, that they cannot be sundered.

¹⁰His sneezings flash forth light,

And his eyes are like the eyelids of the morning.

¹¹Out of his mouth go burning torches,

And sparks of fire leap forth.

¹²Out of his nostrils goeth smoke,

As out of a seething pot and burning rushes.

¹³His breath kindleth coals,

And a flame goeth out of his mouth.

¹⁴In his neck abideth strength,

And dismay danceth before him.

¹⁵The flakes of his flesh are joined together;

They are firm upon him; they cannot be moved.

¹⁶His heart is as firm as a stone;

Yea, firm as the nether millstone.

¹⁷When he raiseth himself up, the mighty are afraid;

By reason of despair they are beside themselves.

¹⁸If one lay at him with the sword, it will not hold;

Nor the spear, the dart, nor the pointed shaft.

¹⁹He esteemeth iron as straw,

And brass as rotten wood.

²⁰The arrow cannot make him flee;

Slingstones are turned with him into stubble.

²¹Clubs are accounted as stubble;

He laugheth at the rattling of the javelin.

²²Sharpest potsherds are under him;

He spreadeth a threshing-sledge upon the mire.

²³He maketh the deep to boil like a pot;

He maketh the sea like a seething mixture.

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