1And it came to passe, in the moneth Nisan, in the twentieth yeere of Artaxerxes the king, that wine was before him: and I tooke vp the wine, and gaue it vnto the King: now I had not bene beforetime sad in his presence. 2Wherefore the king said vnto me, Why is thy countenance sadde, seeing thou art not sicke? this is nothing else but sorrow of heart. Then I was very sore afraid,3And said vnto the king, Let the king liue for euer: why should not my countenance be sad, when the city, the place of my fathers Sepulchres, lyeth waste, and the gates thereof are consumed with fire? 4Then the king said vnto me, For what doest thou make request? So I prayed to the God of heauen.