8. They are children of fools, yea, children of base men; They were scourged out of the land.
9. And now I am become their song, Yea, I am a byword unto them.
10. They abhor me, they stand aloof from me, And spare not to spit in my face.
11. For he hath loosed his cord, and afflicted me; And they have cast off the bridle before me.
12. Upon my right hand rise the rabble; They thrust aside my feet, And they cast up against me their ways of destruction.
13. They mar my path, They set forward my calamity, Even men that have no helper.
14. As through a wide breach they come: In the midst of the ruin they roll themselves upon me.
15. Terrors are turned upon me; They chase mine honor as the wind; And my welfare is passed away as a cloud.
16. And now my soul is poured out within me; Days of affliction have taken hold upon me.