It is sharpened to make a sore slaughter; it is furbished that it may glitter: should we then make mirth? it contemneth the rod of my son, as every tree.
The 1611 reading & marginal notes
It is sharpened to make a sore slaughter; it is fourbished, that it may glitter: should we then make mirth? It contemneth the rod of my sonne, as euery tree.
1611 marginal noteOr, it is the rod of my sonne, it despiseth euery tree.