¹⁰ It is sharpened for sore slaughter, it is furbished that it may glitter. Shall we then make mirth, [saying,] The sceptre of my son contemneth all wood?

²⁴ By thy servants thou hast reproached the Lord, and hast said, With the multitude of my chariots am I come up to the height of the mountains, to the recesses of Lebanon; and I will cut down its tall cedars, the choice of its cypresses; and I will enter into its furthest height, [into] the forest of its fruitful field.