A great crowd of Samaritans is gathered together outside the northern wall, and is standing still, staring at them, and watching their every movement as they build the wall.
Sanballat the governor is there, Tobiah the secretary stands by his side, his chief counsellors have come with him, as have also the officers of his army.

Dark and thick the storm is gathering, and surely the builders feel it, for the trowels cease their cheery ringing sound, and all are listening, waiting and wondering what will come next.
The silence is broken by a loud scornful voice, loud enough to be heard down the line of workers, and by Nehemiah as he stands among them.

He knows that voice well; it is the voice of Sanballat the governor.

In scoffing disagreeable words he is speaking to his companions, but he is talking about the builders, and is talking for their benefit too, that they may feel the full sting of his sarcastic words.
'What do these feeble Jews ?' A poor weak, miserable down-trodden set of men; what can _they_ do?
'Will they fortify themselves ?' Do they fondly dream they will ever finish their work, and fortify their city?
And how long will it take to build walls like these?
Do they think it will be done directly?
'Will they sacrifice?
Will they make an end in a day ?' Do they expect to offer the sacrifice at the commencement of their work, and then the very same day to finish it?
Why, they have not even the necessary materials.

Where will they get their stone from?
Are they going to do what is impossible, to make good, solid building-stone out of the heaps of rubbish, the crumbling burnt masses which are all that remain of the old walls?
'Will they revive the stones out of the heaps of the rubbish which are burned ?' Then when Sanballat had done speaking, there follows the loud coarse sneer of Secretary Tobiah.