Outwardly bold and defiant, but with terror in their guilty hearts, the false priests prepare their altar, laying on the wood and the victim; and then they begin their incantations. Their shrill cries echo and re-echo through the forests and the surrounding heights, as they call on the name of their god, saying, "O Baal, hear us." The priests gather about their altar, and with leaping and writhing and screaming, with tearing of hair and cutting of flesh, they beseech their god to help them. The morning passes, noon comes, and yet there is no evidence that Baal hears the cries of his deluded followers. There is no voice, no reply to their frantic prayers. The sacrifice remains unconsumed.

Udadtil optræder de falske profeter dristigt, men deres skyldbetyngede hjerte er grebet af rædsel. De sætter deres alter i stand, lægger brændet og offeret til rette og begynder derpå at påkalde deres gud. Deres skingre råb giver genlyd i skovene og på højene, idet de påkalder deres gud med ordene: "Hør os, Baal!" Præsterne samles nu omkring alteret. De hopper og danser, laver fagter og skriger, river sig i håret og sårer sig selv for at få deres gud til at hjælpe dem. Formiddagen går, men ved middagstid er der stadig intet tegn på, at Baal vil høre sine vildledte tilhængeres råb. Deres heftige bønner forbliver ubesvarede, og offeret ligger urørt.