מָצוֹד

And I find more bitter than death the woman who is a snare, whose heart is a net, and whose hands are chains. The man who pleases God escapes her, but the sinner is ensnared.

For surely no man knows his time: Like fish caught in a cruel net or birds trapped in a snare, so men are ensnared in an evil time that suddenly falls upon them.

There was a small city with few men. A mighty king came against it, surrounded it, and built large siege ramps against it.

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All the many nationsgoing out to battle against Ariel—even all who war against her,laying siege and attacking her—will be like a dream,like a vision in the night,