Job says that his eyes have seen all this and his ears have heard and understood it. What you know, I also know; I am not inferior to you. But I would speak to the Almighty and argue my case with God. You, on the other hand, whitewash with lies; worthless physicians are you all. Oh that you would keep silent altogether: that would be your wisdom. He invites them to hear his reasoning: will you speak falsely for God? Will you speak deceitfully for him? Will you show partiality toward him, as advocates for God? Will it be well when he searches you out? Their maxims are proverbs of ashes, their defenses defenses of clay.
Job asks them to be silent and let him speak, come what may. Why do I take my flesh in my teeth and put my life in my hand? Even if God kills him, Job says, he will go on waiting for him, while still defending his conduct before God's face. That, he believes, will be his deliverance, since the godless cannot stand before God at all. He asks them to listen closely: he has set out his case and is confident he will be shown to be in the right. Whoever wants to contend with him may try, for then he would fall silent and die.
Then he turns to God, of whom he asks only two things so as not to hide from his face: to withdraw his hand far from him and not let dread of him terrify him. After that, let God call and he will answer, or let him speak and God reply. How many are my iniquities and my sins? Make me know my transgression and my sin. Why do you hide your face and count me as your enemy? Will you frighten a driven leaf and pursue dry chaff? You write bitter things against me and make me inherit the iniquities of my youth. You put my feet in the stocks and watch all my paths; you set a limit for the soles of my feet. Man wastes away like a rotten thing, like a garment that is moth-eaten.