The Poisoned Morsel

From E5.2, Hormizd’s Slaughter of the Ministers. It illustrates E5.2.55–66 (to E5.2.69):

E5.2.55
The priest sat down; the board was swiftly spread,His color faded, and his heart felt dread.
E5.2.56
He feared that this would prove his final meal;The cooks brought meats arranged with royal zeal.
E5.2.57
Hormizd would taste each dish, lest one discernWhat hidden malice in his heart would burn.
E5.2.58
But when the poisoned course was carried near,The priest looked, then looked once again in fear.
E5.2.59
Suspicion troubled him; he understoodThat death might lurk beneath this show of good.
E5.2.60
Hormizd observed him, yet no word was said;He stretched his hand toward that dish of dread.
E5.2.61
As royal custom held in former day,When kings bestowed their favor on display,
E5.2.62
He touched the food and drew the marrow free,Then held the morsel where the priest could see.
E5.2.63
He said, “O honest man, this dish is fine;I had it made for you, that you might dine.
E5.2.64
Now open wide your mouth and take this part;Such nourishment should gladden soul and heart.”
E5.2.65
The Mobad said, “By life and royal crown,May Fortune never cast your glory down.
E5.2.66
I have no hunger now; I must decline;Press me no further; grant this plea of mine.”