Chapter 40

And once more, from the midst of a whirlwind, the Lord gave Job his answer:

Strip, then, and enter the lists; it is my turn to ask questions, thine to impart knowledge.

My awards thou wouldst fain reverse; wouldst prove me unjust, to prove thyself innocent;

why then, let us see thee shew strength like the strength of God, let us hear thee thunder as God thunders.

Come, deck thyself with glory, up with thee to the heights; shew all thy splendours, robe thyself in dazzling array!

Scatter the proud in that indignation of thine, with thy frown abase the tyrant;

here is an oppressor for thee to thwart; here is one that defies thee, crush him!

Bury them in the dust, one and all, hide them from sight, deep in the abyss;

then I will acknowledge thee for one whose own strength can bring him victory.

Here is Behemoth,1 my creature as thou art, fed on the same grass the oxen eat;

yet what strength in his loins, what lustihood in the navel of his belly!

Stiff as cedar-wood his tail, close-knit the sinews of his groin,

bones like pipes of bronze, gristle like plates of steel!

None of God’s works can vie with him, the maker of such a beast has his sword ready for use;

whole mountain-sides, the playground of his fellow beasts, he will lay under tribute,

as he lies there under the close covert of the marsh-reeds,

thick boughs for his shadow, among the willows by the stream.

The flooded river he drinks unconcerned; Jordan itself would have no terrors for that gaping mouth.

Like a lure it would charm his eye, though it should pierce his nostrils with sharp stakes.

Or Leviathan, wilt thou find a hook that will draw him to land, a line that will hold his tongue fast?

Canst thou ring him, or pierce his jaw with a clasp?

Will he importune thee with entreaties, or cajole thee with blandishments,

till thou makest a covenant that binds him to be thy servant for ever?

Wilt thou make a plaything of him, as if he were a tame bird, chain him up to make sport for thy maid-servants?

Is he to be divided up among fellow fishermen, sold piece-meal to the merchants?

Is that skin a spoil for the net, that head for the fishermen’s cabins?

Do but try conclusions with him, and see if the memory of the combat does not keep thee dumb!

Fond hope, that must be dashed to the ground for all to see it!