"This is," said the host, standing in the middle of the room, "his grace Prince Hiram, a member of the supreme council of Tyre. This is the worthy Dagon, banker of the heir to the throne, and viceroy of Lower Egypt." The two dignitaries bowed, each with his hand on his breast, and both sat down on stools in the middle of the chamber. Hiram pushed aside his toga somewhat in order to show the great gold medal on his breast; in answer to this Dagon began to toy with a large gold chain which he had received from Prince Ramses. "I, Hiram," said the old man, "congratulate thee, Lord Dagon. I wish thee much property, and success in thy business." "I, Dagon, congratulate thee, Lord Hiram, and I wish thee the same as Thou wishest me." "Dost Thou desire to dispute?" interrupted Hiram, irritated. "How dispute? Rabsun, say if I am disputing." "Better talk of business, your worthinesses," replied the host. After a moment of thought Hiram proceeded, "Thy friends in Tyre congratulate thee greatly through me." "Is that all they have sent me?" asked Dagon, in reviling accents. "What didst Thou wish?" inquired Hiram, raising his voice. "Quiet! Concord!" put in the host. Hiram sighed a number of times deeply, and said, "It is true that we need concord. Evil times are approaching Phoenicia." "Has the sea flooded Tyre and Sidon?" asked Dagon, smiling. Hiram spat, and inquired, "Why art Thou so ill-tempered today?" "I am always ill-tempered when men do not call me worthiness." "But why dost Thou not say grace to me? I am a prince." "Perhaps in Phoenicia. But in Assyria Thou wouldst wait three days in the forecourt of any satrap for an audience, and when he deigned to receive thee Thou wouldst be lying on thy belly, like any Phoenician merchant." "But what couldst Thou do in presence of a wild man who would perhaps impale thee on a stake?" inquired Hiram. "What I would do, I know not. But in Egypt I sit on one sofa with the heir to the throne, who today is viceroy." "Concord, worthiness! Concord, grace!" said the host. "Concord! concord, because this man is a common Phoenician merchant, and is unwilling to render me respect," cried out Dagon. "I have a hundred ships!" shouted Hiram. "And his holiness has twenty thousand cities, towns, and villages." "Your worthinesses are destroying this business and all Phoenicia," said Rabsun, with a voice which was loud now. Hiram balled his fists, but was silent. "Thou must confess, worthiness," said he, after a while, "that of those twenty thousand towns his holiness owns few in reality." "Thou wishest to say, grace," answered Dagon, "that seven thousand belong to the temples, and seven thousand to great lords. Still six thousand belong clearly to his holiness." "Not altogether! For when Thou takest, worthiness, about three thousand which are mortgaged to the priests, and two thousand which are rented to our Phoenicians."