Page 90 - The Prophet-statesman a Drama of Daniel

He shared with the citizens of the whole realm of Babylon a clear recollection of
the days of Nebuchadnezzar and a knowledge that some sudden, strange madness had
overtaken him and that he had disappeared. He also knew of the deterioration of the

government under his successors and the almost unbearable burden of taxation by
them, and that the poor tillers of the soil had sighed for the former days. So whether or
not this unkept creature were an impostor, there was little to be lost by lending him
some kindly assistance and if real, he might later be the recipient of great benefits.

These thoughts all rushed through his mind and brought him to a decision.

“I will certainly help you, sir, to the limit of my ability,” he said to
Nebuchadnezzar,” but will you wait until I go and inform my wife, that she may be

prepared?”

In a few minutes he was back and escorted Nebuchadnezzar into the house, where
the erstwhile emperor was given a bath and clothed in some of the farmer’s garments.

The farmer possessed a little ability himself as a barber, so he cut away the mass of
matted hair and trimmed his beard. The king was now clean and clothed and
sartorially presentable. During the process of the metamorphosis, the farmer became
more and more convicted that this strange-looking and unexpected guest was indeed

the mighty monarch at whose name the empire had trembled, but who had ruled so
efficiently that the lot of the common people was better than it had ever been before
and vastly better than it had been since. He could now discern clearly the resemblance
between this man and the imposing image which he had seen many times and which

still stood in the plain of Dura.

In a long conversation the king questioned his host whose name he found to be
Bigthan, about the progress of the kingdom during the years of his absence. So

Bigthan, much better-informed and more intelligent than the average peasant, told him
the sad story of the rapid process of disintegration during the seven years of his
absence. The blazing black eyes of Nebuchadnezzar, with rekindle intelligence, were
fixed upon him as Bigthan recounted the occurrences of this lost page in his life-

history, this strange interlude in his existence, this hiatus of oblivion through which he
had passed.

Finally he said: “And what of Daniel, the Prime Minister, and his friends?
“They have long since resigned from office and retired from public life.”
“And what of Nebuzaradan and Ashpenaz and Arioch?” asked the king intently.
“They also have been deposed from office and have disappeared from the public
scene,” Bigthan replied.

“And tell me! Tell me, my friend!” (and his voice now took on a quality of
tenderness and heart-concern that it had not before contained) “Have your ears heard