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¶ And it came to pass in the month Nisan, in the twentieth year of Artaxerxes, the king, that as wine was before him, I took up the wine and gave it unto the king. And as I had not been sad before in his presence,

the king said unto me, Why is thy countenance sad, seeing thou art not sick? This is nothing else but brokenness of heart. Then I was very sore afraid

and said unto the king, Let the king live for ever; why should not my countenance be sad, when the city, the house of my fathers’ sepulchres, lies waste, and its gates are consumed with fire?

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