They owned that they could not recommend any competitor as worthy of the rewards.

They swore that the wine was little better than poison, and entreated permission to resign the office of deciding between such detestable potions.
"In the name of Belus, how can this have happened ?" said the king.
Merolchazzar, the high-priest, muttered something about the anger of the Gods at the toleration shown to a sect of impious heretics who ate pigeons broiled, "whereas," said he, "our religion commands us to eat them roasted.

Now therefore, O King," continued this respectable divine, "give command to thy men of war, and let them smite the disobedient people with the sword, them, and their wives, and their children, and let their houses, and their flocks, and their herds, be given to thy servants the priests.

Then shall the land yield its increase, and the fruits of the earth shall be no more blasted by the vengeance of Heaven." "Nay," said the king, "the ground lies under no general curse from Heaven.

The season has been singularly good.