¹⁸ By the great force of my disease is my garment changed: it bindeth me about as the collar of my coat.

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.

⁵ My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; my skin is broken, and become loathsome.

²⁰ My bone cleaveth to my skin and to my flesh, and I am escaped with the skin of my teeth.

⁵ My wounds stink and are corrupt because of my foolishness.

⁵ Why should ye be stricken any more? ye will revolt more and more: the whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint.

⁶ From the sole of the foot even unto the head there is no soundness in it; but wounds, and bruises, and putrifying sores: they have not been closed, neither bound up, neither mollified with ointment.