And now will I break his rod from thy back, and burst thy bonds in sunder."

But the LORD hath given a commandment concerning thee, that there shall come no more seed of thy name. The carved and casten Images will I root out of the house of thy God. Thy grave shall I prepare for thee, and thou shalt be confounded.

Behold, upon the mountains come the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, and preacheth peace. O Judah, keep thy holidays, perform thy promises: for Belial shall come no more in thee, he is utterly rooted out.

The scatterer shall come up against thee, and lay siege to the castle. Look thou well to the streets, make thy loins strong, arm thyself with all thy might:

Behold, I will upon thee, sayeth the LORD of Hosts, and will set fire upon thy chariots that they shall smoke withal, and the sword shall devour thy young lions. I will make an end of thy spoiling from out of the earth, and the voice of thy messengers shall no more be heard.

Behold, I will upon thee, sayeth the LORD of Hosts, and will pull thy clothes over thy head: that I may show thy nakedness among the Heathen, and thy shame among the kingdoms.

All thy strong cities shall be like fig trees with ripe figs: which when a man shaketh, they fall into the mouth of the eater.

Behold, thy people within thee are but women: the ports of thy land shall be open unto thine enemies, and the fire shall devour thy bars.

Draw water now against thou be besieged, make up thy strongholds, go into the clay, temper the mortar, make strong brick:

Thy merchants have been numbered with the stars of heaven: but now shall they spread abroad as the locusts, and flee their way.

Thy lords are as the grasshoppers, and thy captains as the multitude of grasshoppers: which when they be cold, remain in the hedges: but when the Sun is up, they flee away, and no man can tell where they are become.

Thy shepherds are asleep, O king of Assyria, thy worthies are laid down: thy people is scattered abroad upon the mountains, and no man gathereth them together again.

Thy wound cannot be hid, thy plague is so sore. All they that hear this of thee, shall clap their hands over thee. For what is he, to whom thou hast not always been doing hurt?