A man once came to him crying in distress. His only daughter was
betrothed to a youth, and the bridegroom and his father came to the
bride's house on the eve of the wedding, to view her ornaments and
beautiful clothes. When the bride's parents rose next day, everything had
vanished, jewels and trousseau together. They were in despair, for they
had lavished all their possessions on their daughter. My friend
[continued Enan] went back with the man to examine the scene of the
robbery. The walls of the house were too high to scale. He found but one
place where entry was possible, a crevice in a wall in which an orange
tree grew, and its edge was covered with thorns and prickles. Next door
lived a musician, Paltiel ben Agan [or Adan] by name, and my late friend,
the judge, interviewed him, and made him strip. His body was covered with
cuts and scratches; his guilt was discovered, and the dowry returned to
the last shoe-latchet. "My son," said he, "beware of singers, for they
are mostly thieves; trust no word of theirs, for they are liars; they
dally with women, and long after other people's money. They fancy they
are clever, but they know not their left hand from their right; they
raise their hands all day and call, but know not to whom. A singer stands
at his post, raised above all other men, and he thinks he is as lofty as
his place. He constantly emits sounds, which mount to his brain, and dry
it up; hence he is so witless."
Then Enan tells Joseph another story of his friend the judge's sagacity: