Here, in the days of the saints of old, in the concourse of elders of age
untold, there lived a man upright and true, in all his doings good
fortune he knew. Rich was he and great, his eyes looked ever straight:
Tobiah, the son of Ahiah, a man of Dan, helped the poor, to each gave of
his store; whene'er one friendless died, the shroud he supplied, bore the
corpse to the grave, nor thought his money to save. The men of the place,
a sin-ruled race, slandering, cried, "O King, these Jewish knaves open
our graves! Our bones they burn, into charms to turn, health to earn."
The king angrily spoke: "I will weighten their yoke, and their villainy
repay; all the Jews who, from to-day, die in this town, to the pit take
down, to the pit hurry all, without burial. Who buries a Jew, the hour
shall rue; bitter his pang, on the gallows shall he hang." Soon a
sojourner did die, and no friends were by; but good Tobiah the corpse did
lave, and dress it for the grave. Some sinners saw the deed, to the judge
the word they gave, who Tobiah's death decreed. Forth the saint they
draw, to hang him as by law. But now they near the tree, lo! no man can
see, a blindness falls on all, and Tobiah flies their thrall. Many
friends his loss do weep, but homewards he doth creep, God's mercies to
narrate, and his own surprising fate, "Praise ye the Lord, dear friends,
for His mercy never ends, and to His servants good intends." Fear the
king distressed, his heart beat at his breast, new decrees his fear
expressed. "Whoe'er a Jew shall harm," the king cried in alarm, "touching
his person or personalty, touches the apple of my eye; let no man do this
wrong, or I'll hang him 'mid the throng, high though his rank, and his
lineage long." And well he kept his word, he punished those who erred;
but on the Jews his mercies shone, the while he rilled the throne.
Once lay the saint at rest, and glanced upon the nest of a bird within
his room. Ah! cruel was his doom! Into his eye there went the sparrow's
excrement. Tobiah's sight was gone! He had an only son, whom thus he now
addressed: "When business ventures pressed, I passed from clime to clime.
Well I recall the time, when long I dwelt in Ind, of wealth full stores
to find. But perilous was the road, and entrusted I my load with one of
honest fame, Peër Hazeman his name. And now list, beloved son, go out and
hire thee one, thy steps forthwith to guide unto my old friend's side. I
know his love's full stream, his trust he will redeem; when heareth he my
plight, when seeth he thy sight, then will he do the right." The youth
found whom he sought, a man by travel taught, the ways of Ind he knew; he
knew them through and through, he knew them up and down, as a townsman
knows his town. He brought him to his sire, who straightway did inquire,
"Knowest thou an Indian spot, a city named Tobot?"--"Full well I know the
place, I spent a two years' space in various enterprise; its people all
are wise, and honest men and true."--"What must I give to you," asked
Tobiah of his guest," to take my son in quest?"--"Of pieces pure of
gold, full fifty must be told."--"I'll pay you that with joy; start forth
now with my boy." A script the son did write, which Tobiah did indite,
and on his son bestow a sign his friend would know. The father kissed his
son, "In peace," said he, "get gone; may God my life maintain till thou
art come again." The youth and guide to Tobot hied, and reached anon Peër
Hazeman. "Why askest thou my name?" Straight the answer came, "Tobiah is
my sire, and he doth inquire of thy health and thy household's." Then the
letter he unfolds. The contents Peër espies, every doubt flies, he
regards the token with no word spoken. "'Tis the son of my friend, who
greeting thus doth send. Is it well with him? Say."--"Well, well with him
alway."--"Then dwell thou here a while, and hours sweet beguile with the
tales which thou wilt tell of him I loved so well."--"Nay, I must
forthwith part to soothe my father's heart. I am his only trust, return
at once I must." Peër Hazeman agrees the lad to release; gives him all
his father's loan, and gifts adds of his own, raiment and two slaves. To
music's pleasant staves, the son doth homeward wend. By the shore of the
sea went the lad full of glee, and the wind blew a blast, and a fish was
upward cast. Then hastened the guide to ope the fish's side, took the
liver and the gall, for cure of evil's thrall: liver to give demons
flight, gall to restore men's sight. The youth begged his friend these
specifics to lend, then went he on his way to where his sick sire lay.
Then spake the youth to his father all the truth. "Send not away the
guide without pay." The son sought the man, through the city he ran, but
the man had disappeared. Said Tobiah, "Be not afeared, 'twas Elijah the
seer, whom God sent here to stand by our side, our needs to provide." He
bathed both his eyes with the gall of the prize, and his sight was
restored by the grace of the Lord.
Then said he to his son, "Now God His grace has shown, dost thou not
yearn to do a deed in turn? My niece forthwith wed."--"But her husbands
three are dead, each gave up his life as each made her his wife; to her
shame and to her sorrow, they survived not to the morrow."--"Nay, a demon
is the doer of this harm to every wooer. My son, obey my wish, take the
liver of the fish, and burn it in full fume, at the door of her
room,'twill give the demon his doom." At his father's command, with his
life in his hand, the youth sought the maid, and wedded her unafraid. For
long timid hours his prayer Tobiah pours; but the incense was alight, the
demon took to flight, and safe was all the night. Long and happily wed,
their lives sweetly sped.
Their entertainer tells Joseph and Enan another story of piety connected
with the burial of the dead: