"What didst Thou wish?" inquired Hiram, raising his voice.
"Quiet! Concord!" put in the host.
Hiram sighed a number of times deeply, and said,
"It is true that we need concord. Evil times are approaching
Phoenicia."
"Has the sea flooded Tyre and Sidon?" asked Dagon, smiling.
Hiram spat, and inquired,
"Why art Thou so ill-tempered today?"
"I am always ill-tempered when men do not call me worthiness."
"But why dost Thou not say grace to me? I am a prince."
"Perhaps in Phoenicia. But in Assyria Thou wouldst wait three days in the forecourt of any satrap for an audience, and when he deigned to receive thee Thou wouldst be lying on thy belly, like any Phoenician merchant."