Nehemiah is pale and anxious and troubled; his whole face tells of the struggle going on within, and the king cannot fail to perceive it.

Turning to the Rab-shakeh he asks: 'Why is thy countenance sad, seeing thou art not sick?
this is nothing else but sorrow of heart.' 'Then,' says Nehemiah, 'I was very sore afraid.' It is no wonder that he was alarmed, for it was actually a crime, proscribed by law, for any one to look sad or depressed in the presence of a Persian king.

However heavy might be his heart, however sorrowful his spirit, he must cross the threshold of the palace with a smiling face, and show no signs in the king's presence of the trouble within.

But Nehemiah's face has betrayed him.

What will the king do?
Will he dismiss him from office?
Will he degrade him from his high position?
Will he punish him for his breach of court etiquette?
Or can it be that this is a heaven-sent opportunity in which he may make his request?
He answers at once: 'Let the king live for ever: why should not my countenance be sad, when the city, the place of my fathers' sepulchres, lieth waste, and the gates thereof are consumed with fire ?' And the king, quite understanding from Nehemiah's speech that he wants something from him, asks immediately: 'For what dost thou make request ?' Oh, what a critical moment! How much depends on Nehemiah's answer to this unexpected question! What shall he say?
What dare he propose?
The whole future of Jerusalem may hang on his answer to the king's question.
There is a moment's pause, but only a moment's, and then Nehemiah's answer is given.