Satan, a magnificent figure, comes with the Sons of God to present himself before God. In his fiery aura are two shadowy figures making with him a trinity of evil.
Design III.—The crash of Job’s family. He has built his house, and prospered regardless of those who made it possible for him to build it; and in the sudden turn of events it has become a mere ruin.
Design IV.—Job and his wife are under the fig-tree, the man bearing with noble and unbroken fortitude the arrival of bad news.
Design V.—Once more the cosmos. Satan is rushing headlong towards earth to wreak his full power on Job in the midst of his charities, yet forbidden to touch the one thing that Job would so gladly surrender, his life. Heaven cannot remain impassive at suffering on earth. Its sun is darkened and the Almighty on His Throne is grieved at His heart.
Design VI.—Satan’s last malice on Job. He is reduced to sheer nakedness and wretchedness. Nothing of his former life that gave him comfort remains to him. He is “wrecked on God.” “The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away, Blessed be the name of the Lord.” With such faith and resignation his sun has not quite set.
Design VII.—The friends arrive. Once more Blake felt at home from his personal experience. He had never had beyond Catherine and Robert a perfect spiritual friend. He had never lacked corporeal ones. The remembrance of them gave zest and spirit to the portrayal of Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite.
Design VIII.—Job’s corporeal friends have done their worst. They and his wife have quenched his last hope. His sun has gone down. Naked and covered with boils from the crown of his head to the sole of his foot, he lifts up both hands and curses the day that saw his birth.
Design IX.—The vision of Eliphaz, and his terror, for which Blake recalled his own terror on the threshold.
Design X.—The corporeal friends stripped of their wordy disguise. They are spiritual enemies that point the finger of scorn at the just, upright man. There is a glimmer of light on the horizon, for Job can still say, “Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him.”
Design XI.—A worse stage of misery. Hitherto Job had held fast his faith in God. Now he no longer sees God as He is. In the terrors of his dreams and visions he cannot discern between God and Satan. Satan stretches over him with a face reminiscent of God’s. As Job turns away his head in horror, it becomes impossible for him to detect the cloven hoof; and so he touches that horror of great darkness, worse than all physical suffering, where not only man but God has turned His face, and in Its place loom the commandments of stone, which recall the darkness and thunders of Sinai.