⁷ So went Satan forth from the presence of the Lord, and smote Job with sore boils from the sole of his foot unto his crown.

⁸ And he took him a potsherd to scrape himself withal; and he sat down among the ashes.

⁹ Then said his wife unto him, Dost thou still retain thine integrity? curse God, and die.

¹⁰ But he said unto her, Thou speakest as one of the foolish women speaketh. What? shall we receive good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive evil? In all this did not Job sin with his lips.

² For thine arrows stick fast in me, and thy hand presseth me sore.

⁷ For my loins are filled with a loathsome disease: and there is no soundness in my flesh.