Unholy excitement ran high. Wines and strong drinks flowed freely.
Flattery without measure was poured into the ears of the king. "Long live
Jehoiakim!" echoed from a thousand voices. The prophets of the Most High,
who prophesied evil against Jerusalem, were ridiculed and laughed to
scorn; and those few persons of influence who regarded them in a
favorable light were made the subjects of their keenest sarcasm and their
most insulting wit. It was about the third hour of the night. The king's
heart was merry with wine. A thousand of Judah's nobles, with their
wives, their sons, and their daughters, sat at the banquet table.
Suddenly a voice, deep and solemn as the grave, was heard below, as if in
the garden at the rear of the palace, crying, "Woe unto Jehoiakim, King
of Judah! Woe! Woe to the Holy City!" The sound was of an unearthly
nature. The assembly heard it, the king heard it. For a moment, all was
still. Again the same deep minor sound was clearly heard. "Woe unto
Jehoiakim, King of Judah! Woe! Woe unto the Holy City!"
"Seize the accursed wretch!" rang through the great apartment.
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