"Many believe he is
already born. They say that on your death he will declare himself."
"And they, too, pray for my death?"
"Most earnestly, my beloved king."
"Traitors!" said Herod, and as he spoke his powerful hands were tearing
his kerchief into rags. "I shall soon change the burden of their
prayers. Go tell them this: the day I die two of the wisest men from
every city in the kingdom shall die also. Go everywhere, and tell
these learned doctors they had best pray for my good health."
The priest bowed before his king and retired. The pagan noble looked
up at this ruler of the land of the one God and felt a thrill of
horror. Herod, turning quickly, beckoned to the young knight, his
wrinkles quivering with anger. Now, indeed, he was like a lion at bay.
"Ha-a!" he roared, and his head bent slowly and his voice fell to a low
rumble as he continued. "'Tis an evil time in Jerusalem. I weary of
this long fight with traitors. They grind their points; they stir
poison; they swarm in the streets. They rob me of my friends, and
now--now they seek alliance with Jehovah to rob me of my throne.
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