Job 19

Matthew(i) 1 Iob answered, and sayde: 2 howe longe wil ye vexe my mynde, & trouble me wyth wordes? 3 Lo, ten tymes haue ye reproued me: are ye not ashamed, for to laugh me so to scorne? 4 yf I go wronge, I go wronge to my selfe. 5 But yf ye will enhaunce your selues againste me, & accuse me to be a wicked persone, because of the shame that is come vpon me: 6 knowe thys then, that it is God, whiche hath handled me so violently & hath compased me aboute with his scourges. 7 Beholde, though I crye, yet violence is done vnto me, I can not be herde: Though I complane, there is none to geue sentence with me. 8 He had hedged vp my payth, I can not get awaye, he hath set darckenesse in my gate. 9 He hath spoyled my of myne honoure, and taken the croune awaye from my head. 10 He hath destroyed my on euery syde, & I am vndone: My hope hath he taken awaye from me, as it were a tre plucte vp by the rote. 11 Hys wrath is kyndled agaynste me, he taketh me, as though I were hys enemy. 12 His men of warre came together, whyche made their waye ouer me, and beseged my dwellinge roundeaboute. 13 He hath put my brethren farre awaye from me, and suche as were of myne acquauntaunce, are become straungers vnto me. 14 Mine owne kynsfolkes haue forsaken me, and my frendes haue put me out of remembraunce. 15 The seruauntes & maydens of myne owne house take me for a straunger, and I am be come as an aleaunt in theyr syght. 16 When I call vpon my seruaunt, he geueth me no answere: no though I praye him wyth my mouth. 17 Myne owne wyfe may not abide my breth, I am faynt to speake fayre vnto the childeen of myne owne body. 18 Ye the very deserte fooles despyse me, and when I am gone from them, they speake euell vpon me. 19 Al suche as were my most familiers, abhorre me: and they whom I loued best, are turned against me. 20 My bone hangeth to my skynne, & my flesh is awaye, only there is left me the skynne aboute my teth. 21 Haue pyte vpon me, haue pite vpon me (O ye my frendes) for the hande of the Lorde hath touched me. 22 Why do ye persecute me as God, and are not satisfied of my fleshe? 23 O that my wordes were written, O that they were put in a boke: 24 woulde God they were grauen with an yron penne in leade or in stone. 25 For I am sure, that my redemer liueth & that I shal ryse out of the earth in the latter day: 26 that I shal be clothed againe wyth thys skynne, & se God in my fleshe. 27 Ye I my selfe shal beholde hym, not wyth other but wyth these same eyes. My reynes are consumed within me, 28 when ye saye: Why do not we persecute him? we haue founde an occasyon against hym. 29 But beware of the swearde, for the swearde wylbe auenged of wickednesse, and be sure, that there is a iudgement.