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Now, in the month Nisan, in the twentieth year of King Artaxerxes, the wine stood before him. And I took up the wine and gave it to the king. Now I had never been sad in his presence before.

And the king said to me, “Why is your face sad, seeing you are not sick? This is nothing but sorrow of heart.” Then I was very afraid.

And I said to the king, “God save the king forever! Why should my face not be sad, when the city and house of the sepulchers of my fathers lies waste; and its gates are devoured with fire?”

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