“Death to the Jew! Death to Daniel the murderer! Death! Death!”
Instantly the crowds of Avil’s underlings upon the tower caught up the cry. But though the noise swelled to a deafening clamour, and all the files of the soldiers joined, Atossa heard no priest of Samas or Sin or Nergal open his lips. They were every man silent, like their fellows from Borsippa. And the great multitude that had trailed into the gate at the tail of the procession was silent also. Yet from Avil-Marduk’s supporters, and from the throng of courtiers about the king, the outcry continually increased. Belshazzar, she divined, must be able to say he sacrificed Daniel to quell the general clamour.
Louder, ever louder, “Death to Daniel! Death to the murderer! Extirpate the Jews!”
Atossa saw men with speaking trumpets stationed at advantageous points to roar across the sea of heads, and make one voice pass for twenty.
“Death to Daniel! Death to the civil-minister!”
The heads of the sacred colleges of the temple, the chief “libation-pourer,” the chief “demon-restrainer,” and their peers, had come to lift the idol from its station in the car, and bear it to the summit of the ziggurat; the king had descended from the ship to follow them. Their feet were on the first stair, when across their path stood Avil-Marduk, in his hand the long white staff of his office, and obedient to his gesture the clamorous underlings and soldiers were silent instantly.
“Hearken, O Belshazzar, lord of Babylon and Akkad. On the day of the great feast of Bel, when the image of Bel is borne to the crest of the Lofty House, is it not the right of the god—a right, and not a boon—to demand of the king of Babylon one thing whatsoever the god, even Bel-Marduk, may desire?”
It was so still that the thousands could hear Belshazzar’s answer:—
“It is so, O Avil, mouthpiece of the ‘Lord of the Lofty House.’”
“Therefore I, O Belshazzar, do demand, as a thing not to be denied, the life of that enemy of the god, that guilty murderer, that impious blasphemer—”