9 Till when, O slothful one, dost thou lie? When dost thou arise from thy sleep?
10 A little sleep, a little slumber, A little clasping of the hands to rest,
11 And thy poverty hath come as a traveller, And thy want as an armed man.
12 A man of worthlessness, a man of iniquity, Walking [with] perverseness of mouth,
13 Winking with his eyes, speaking with his feet, Directing with his fingers,
14 Frowardness [is] in his heart, devising evil at all times, Contentions he sendeth forth.
15 Therefore suddenly cometh his calamity, Instantly he is broken--and no healing.