21
His breath kindleth coals, and a flame goeth out of his mouth.
22
In his neck remaineth strength, and sorrow is turned into joy before him.
23
The folds of his flesh are joined together; they are firm in themselves; they cannot be moved.
24
His heart is as firm as a stone, yea, as hard as a piece of the nether millstone.
25
When he raiseth up himself, the mighty are afraid; by reason of breakings they purify themselves.
26
The sword of him that layeth at him cannot hold the spear, the dart, nor the breastplate.
27
He esteemeth iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood.
28
The arrow cannot make him flee; slingstones are turned by him into stubble.
29
Darts are counted as stubble; he laugheth at the shaking of a spear.
30
Sharp potsherds are his undersides; he spreadeth sharp pointed things upon the mire.
31
He maketh the deep to boil like a pot; he maketh the sea like a pot of ointment.