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א וַיְהִי בְּחֹדֶשׁ נִיסָן שְׁנַת עֶשְׂרִים לְאַרְתַּחְשַׁסְתְּא הַמֶּלֶךְ יַיִן לְפָנָיו וָאֶשָּׂא אֶת־הַיַּיִן וָאֶתְּנָה לַמֶּלֶךְ וְלֹא־הָיִיתִי רַע לְפָנָיו

It was in the month of Nisan, the twentieth year of Artahshasta the king; wine was before him, and I, as the royal cupbearer, carried the wine, and I gave it to the king. I had never until that point been wretched in his presence. I was always at my best when before the king, and for his part he always showed fondness toward me.

ב וַיֹּאמֶר לִי הַמֶּלֶךְ מַדּוּעַ פָּנֶיךָ רָעִים וְאַתָּה אֵינְךָ חוֹלֶה אֵין זֶה כִּי־אִם רֹעַ לֵב וָאִירָא הַרְבֵּה מְאֹד

The king said to me: Why is your face wretched, and you are not ill? You do not look good today; this is nothing other than heartache. If you are not ill, you must be preoccupied by negative thoughts. I was exceedingly afraid. The king of Persia was not accountable to anyone. It was enough for this supreme leader, who had the virtual status of a demigod, to suspect someone of wrongdoing, for that person to be executed.

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