“Marduk is robbing Nabu!” some bold spirit in the crowd was shouting. “The priests of Bel-Marduk grow fat; those of Nabu starve! Down with Avil!”
But the servants of the Borsippa god marched on in silence, each man smiling grimly when he saw how their pitiful display was working on the crowd, and pressing his mantle around his hidden sword. And there were other cries at times:—
“Release Daniel! Release the good minister! Release! Down with Avil!”
“Evil times!” muttered Itti. “While Nabonidus was king the processions were suspended; now they become mere occasion for tumult.”
“Well,” protested the cheerful barber, “here comes his Majesty and the car of Bel-Marduk. We shall soon see now.”
A new corps of musicians, new guards. A second boat creaked past on its many wheels. High above the noise of the crowd sounded the hymn chanted by the choir of chosen priests and priestesses in praise of Bel-Marduk, smiter of the great dragon.
“Look favourably upon thy dwelling-place,
Look favourably upon thy city, O Lord of quietness!
May Babylon salute thee, and thy temple,
May the city find safety under thee!”