⁹ But now I am turned into the song of them, and I am made a proverb to them.

¹⁰ They hold me abominable, and they flee far from me, and dread not to spit on my face (and do not fear to spit in my face).

¹¹ For God hath opened his arrow case, and he hath tormented me, and he hath put a bridle into my mouth.