Canst thou draw outleviathanwith a hook? or his tonguewith a cord which thou lettest down? Canst thou puta hookinto his nose? or borehis jawthrough with a thorn? Will he make manysupplicationsuntothee? will he speaksoft words untothee? Will he makea covenantwiththee? wilt thou takehim for a servantforever? Wilt thou playwith him as with a bird? or wilt thou bindhim for thy maidens? Shall the companionsmake a banquetofhim? shall they parthim amongthe merchants? Canst thou fillhis skinwith barbed irons? or his headwith fishspears? Laythine handuponhim, rememberthe battle, do nomore. Behold, the hopeof him is in vain: shall not one be cast downevenatthe sightof him? None is so fiercethatdare stir him up: whothen is able to standbeforeme? Whohath preventedme, that I should repay him? whatsoever is underthe wholeheavenis mine. I will notconcealhis parts, norhis power, nor his comelyproportion. Whocan discoverthe faceof his garment? or whocan come to him with his doublebridle? Whocan openthe doorsof his face? his teeth are terribleround about. His scales are his pride, shut up together as with a closeseal. Oneis so nearto another, that noaircan comebetweenthem. They are joinedoneto another, they stick together, that they cannotbe sundered. By his sneezesa lightdoth shine, and his eyes are like the eyelidsof the morning. Out of his mouthgoburning lamps, and sparksof fireleap out. Out of his nostrilsgoethsmoke, as out of a seethingpotor caldron. His breathkindlethcoals, and a flamegoeth outof his mouth. In his neckremainethstrength, and sorrowis turned into joybeforehim. The flakesof his fleshare joined together: they are firminthemselves; they cannotbe moved. His heartis as firmasa stone; yea, as hardas a pieceof the nether millstone . When he raiseth uphimself, the mightyare afraid: by reason of breakingsthey purify themselves. The swordof him that layethat him cannothold: the spear, the dart, nor the habergeon. He esteemethironas straw, and brassas rottenwood. The arrowcannotmake him flee: slingstonesare turnedwith him into stubble. Dartsare countedas stubble: he laughethat the shakingof a spear. Sharpstones are underhim: he spreadethsharp pointed thingsuponthe mire. He maketh the deepto boillike a pot: he makeththe sealike a pot of ointment. He maketh a pathto shineafterhim; one would thinkthe deep to be hoary. Uponearththere is nothis like, who is madewithoutfear. He beholdethallhigh things : he is a kingoverallthe childrenof pride.