Then Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head, and he fell to the ground and worshiped.

When they lifted up their eyes at a distance and did not recognize him, they raised their voices and wept. And each of them tore his robe and they threw dust over their heads toward the sky.

“His anger has torn me and hunted me down,
He has gnashed at me with His teeth;
My adversary glares at me.

“My days are past, my plans are torn apart,
Even the wishes of my heart.

“He is torn from the security of his tent,
And they march him before the king of terrors.