Coverdale(i)
1 In the moneth Nisan of the twentieth yeare of kynge Artaxerses, wha the wyne stode before him, I toke vp the wyne, and gaue it vnto ye kynge, and I was heuy in his presence.
2 Then sayde ye kynge vnto me: Why lokest thou so sadly? Thou art not sicke, that is not ye matter, but thou art heuy harted. Neuertheles I was sore afrayed,
3 & sayde vnto the kynge: God saue the kynges life for euer, shulde I not loke sadly? the cite of my fathers buryall lyeth wayest, & the portes therof are consumed wt the fyre.
4 Then sayde the kynge vnto me: What is the thy request? Then made I my prayer to the God of heaue,
5 and sayde vnto the kynge: yf it please the kynge, and yf thy seruaunt be fauoured in thy sighte, I beseke the sende me in to Iuda vnto ye cite of my fathers buryall, that I maye buylde it.
6 And ye kynge sayde vnto me, & so dyd the quene yt sat by him: How loge shal thy iourney cotynue, and wha wilt thou come agayne? And it pleased ye kynge to sende me, and I set him a tyme,
7 & sayde vnto the kynge: Yf it please the kynge, let him geue me letters to the Debites beyonde ye water, yt they maye conueye me ouer, tyll I come in to Iuda:
8 & letters vnto Assaph the lorde of the kynges wod, yt he maye geue me wodd for balkes to the gates of the palace, which are harde on the house & harde on the walles of the cite, & for the house that I shal entre in to. And ye kynge gaue me acordinge to the good hande of God vpo me.