Job 19

Wycliffe(i) 1 Forsothe Joob answeride, and seide, Hou long turmente ye my soule, 2 and al to-breken me with wordis? 3 Lo! ten sithis ye schenden me, and ye ben not aschamed, oppressynge me. 4 Forsothe and if Y `koude not, myn vnkynnyng schal be with me. 5 And ye ben reisid ayens me, and repreuen me with my schenschipis. 6 Nameli now vndurstonde ye, that God hath turmentid me not bi euene doom, and hath cumpassid me with hise betyngis. 7 Lo! Y suffrynge violence schal crye, and no man schal here; Y schal crye loude, and `noon is that demeth. 8 He bisette aboute my path, and Y may not go; and he settide derknessis in my weie. 9 He hath spuylid me of my glorye, and hath take awey the coroun fro myn heed. 10 He hath distried me on ech side, and Y perischide; and he hath take awei myn hope, as fro a tre pullid vp bi the roote. 11 His stronge veniaunce was wrooth ayens me; and he hadde me so as his enemye. 12 Hise theues camen togidere, and `maden to hem a wei bi me; and bisegiden my tabernacle in cumpas. 13 He made fer my britheren fro me; and my knowun as aliens yeden awei fro me. 14 My neiyboris forsoken me; and thei that knewen me han foryete me. 15 The tenauntis of myn hows, and myn handmaydis hadden me as a straunger; and Y was as a pilgrym bifor her iyen. 16 Y clepide my seruaunt, and he answeride not to me; with myn owne mouth Y preiede hym. 17 My wijf wlatide my breeth; and Y preiede the sones of my wombe. 18 Also foolis dispisiden me; and whanne Y was goon awei fro hem, thei bacbitiden me. 19 Thei, that weren my counselouris sum tyme, hadden abhomynacioun of me; and he, whom Y louede moost, was aduersarie to me. 20 Whanne fleischis weren wastid, my boon cleuyde to my skyn; and `oneli lippis ben left aboute my teeth. 21 Haue ye merci on me, haue ye merci on me, nameli, ye my frendis; for the hond of the Lord hath touchid me. 22 Whi pursuen ye me, as God pursueth; and ben fillid with my fleischis? 23 Who yyueth to me, that my wordis be writun? Who yyueth to me, 24 that tho be writun in a book with an yrun poyntil, ethir with a plate of leed; ethir with a chisel be grauun in a flynt? 25 For Y woot, that myn ayenbiere lyueth, and in the laste dai Y schal rise fro the erthe; 26 and eft Y schal be cumpassid with my skyn, and in my fleisch Y schal se God, my sauyour. 27 Whom Y my silf schal se, and myn iyen schulen biholde, and not an other man. This myn hope is kept in my bosum. 28 Whi therfor seien ye now, Pursue we hym, and fynde we the roote of a word ayens hym? 29 Therfor fle ye fro the face of the swerd; for the swerd is the vengere of wickidnessis, and wite ye, that doom schal be.