His scales are his pride, Shut up together as with a close seal. One is so near to another, That no air can come between them. They are joined one to another, They stick together, that they cannot be sundered. By his neesings a light doth shine, And his eyes are like the eyelids of the morning. Out of his mouth go burning lamps, And sparks of fire leap out. Out of his nostrils goeth smoke, As out of a seething pot or caldron. His breath kindleth coals, And a flame goeth out of his mouth. In his neck remaineth strength, And sorrow is turned into joy before him. The flakes of his flesh are joined together: They are firm in themselves; they cannot be moved. His heart is as firm as a stone; Yea, as hard as a piece of the nether millstone.
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