Chapter 41

  Wilt thou draw out the leviathan with the hook, and press down his tongue with a cord?  

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  Wilt thou put a rush-rope into his nose, and pierce his jaw with a spike?  

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  Will he make many supplications unto thee? or will he speak softly unto thee?  

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  Will he make a covenant with thee? wilt thou take him as a bondman for ever?  

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  Wilt thou play with him as with a bird, and wilt thou bind him for thy maidens?  

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  Shall partners make traffic of him, will they divide him among merchants?  

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  Wilt thou fill his skin with darts, and his head with fish-spears?  

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  Lay thy hand upon him; remember the battle, -- do no more!  

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  Lo, hope as to him is belied: is not one cast down even at the sight of him?  

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  None is so bold as to stir him up; and who is he that will stand before me?  

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  Who hath first given to me, that I should repay [him]? [Whatsoever is] under the whole heaven is mine.  

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  I will not be silent as to his parts, the story of his power, and the beauty of his structure.  

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  Who can uncover the surface of his garment? who can come within his double jaws?  

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  Who can open the doors of his face? Round about his teeth is terror.  

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  The rows of his shields are a pride, shut up together [as with] a close seal.  

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  One is so near to another that no air can come between them;  

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  They are joined each to its fellow; they stick together, and cannot be sundered.  

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  His sneezings flash light, and his eyes are like the eyelids of the morning.  

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  Out of his mouth go forth flames; sparks of fire leap out:  

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  Out of his nostrils goeth smoke, as out of a boiling pot and cauldron.  

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  His breath kindleth coals, and a flame goeth out of his mouth.  

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  In his neck lodgeth strength, and terror danceth before him.  

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  The flakes of his flesh are joined together: they are fused upon him, they cannot be moved.  

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  His heart is firm as a stone, yea, firm as the nether [millstone].  

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  When he raiseth himself up, the mighty are afraid: they are beside themselves with consternation.  

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  If any reach him with a sword, it cannot hold; neither spear, nor dart, nor harpoon.  

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  He esteemeth iron as straw, bronze as rotten wood.  

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  The arrow will not make him flee; slingstones are turned with him into stubble.  

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  Clubs are counted as stubble; he laugheth at the shaking of a javelin.  

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  His under parts are sharp potsherds: he spreadeth a threshing-sledge upon the mire.  

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  He maketh the deep to boil like a pot; he maketh the sea like a pot of ointment;  

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  He maketh the path to shine after him: one would think the deep to be hoary.  

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  Upon earth there is not his like, who is made without fear.  

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  He beholdeth all high things; he is king over all the proud beasts.  

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