V.

Radiant and joyous was Solomon upon this day, as he sat upon his throne

in the hall of the House at Lebanon and meted out justice to the people

who came before him.

Forty columns, four in a row, supported the ceiling of the Hall of

Judgment, and they were all faced with cedar and terminated in capitals

in the form of lilies; the floor consisted of cypress boards, all of

a piece; nor was the stone upon the walls to be seen anywhere for the

cedar finish, ornamented with gold carving, shewing palms, pineapples,

and cherubim. In the depth of the hall, with its triple-tiered windows,

six steps led up to the elevation of the throne, and upon each step stood

two bronze lions, one on each side. The throne itself was of ivory with

gold incrustation and with elbow-rests of gold, in the form of recumbent

lions. The high back of the throne was surmounted by a golden disc.

Curtains of violet and purple stuffs hung from the ceiling down to the

floor at the entrance to the hall, dividing off the entry, where between

the columns thronged the plaintiffs, supplicants, and witnesses, as well

as the accused and the criminals under a strong guard.

The king had on a red chiton, while upon his head was a simple, narrow

crown of sixty beryls, set in gold. At his right hand stood the throne

for his mother, Bathsheba; but of late, owing to her declining years,

she rarely showed herself in the city.

The Assyrian guests, with austere, black-bearded faces, were seated

along the walls upon benches of jasper; they had on garments of a light

olive colour, broidered at the edges with designs of red and white.

While still at home, in their native Assyria, they had heard so much

of the justice of Solomon that they tried to let no single word of

his slip by, in order to tell later of the judgment of the King of the

Israelites. Among them sat the commanders of Solomon’s armies, his

ministers, the governors of his provinces, and his courtiers. Here was

Benaiah, at one time executioner to the king; the slayer of Joab,

Adonijah, and Shimei,--a short, corpulent old man, with a sparse,

long, gray beard; his faded, bluish eyes, rimmed by red lids that seemed

turned inside out, had a look of senile dullness; his mouth was open

and moist, while his fleshy, red lower lip drooped down impotently, and

was slightly trembling. Here also were Azariah, the son of Nathan,--a

jaundiced, tall man, with a lean, sickly face and dark rings under his

eyes; and the good-natured, absent-minded Jehoshaphat, historiographer;

and Ahishar, who was over the court of Solomon; and Zabud, who bore the

high title of the King’s Friend; and Ben-Abinadab, which had Taphath,

the eldest daughter of Solomon, to wife; and Ben-Geber, the officer over

the region of Argob, which is in Bashan: to him pertained threescore

cities, surrounded by walls, with gates of brasen bars; and Baanah, the

son of Hushai, at one time famed for his skill in casting a spear to the

distance of thirty parasangs; and many others. Sixty warriors, their

helmets and shields gleaming, stood in a rank to the left of the throne

and the right; their head officer this day was the handsome Eliab, of

the black locks, son of Ahilud.

The first to come before Solomon with his complaint was one Achior, a

lapidary by trade. Working in Bel of Phoenicia he had found a precious

stone, had cut and polished it, and had asked his friend Zachariah, who

was setting out for Jerusalem, to give the stone to his--Achior’s--wife.

After some time Achior also returned home. The first thing that he asked

about upon beholding his wife was the stone. But she was very much amazed

at her husband’s question, and repeated under oath that she had received

no stone of any sort. Whereupon Achior set out for an explanation to his

friend Zachariah, but he asseverated, and also to an oath, that he had,

immediately upon arrival, given the stone over as instructed. He even

brought witnesses, who affirmed having seen Zachariah give the stone in

their presence to the wife of Achior.

And now all four,--Achior, Zachariah, and the two witnesses,--were

standing before the throne of the King of Israel.

Solomon gazed into the eyes of each one in turn and said to the guard:

“Lead each one to a separate chamber, and lock up each one apart.”

And when this was done, he ordered four pieces of unbaked clay to be

brought.

“Let each one of them,” willed the king, “fashion out of clay that form

which the stone had.”

After some time the moulds were ready. But one of the witnesses had made

his mould in the shape of a horse’s head, as precious stones were

usually fashioned; the other, in the shape of a sheep’s head; only two

of them--Achior and Zachariah--had their moulds alike, resembling in

form a woman’s breast.

And the king spake:

“Now it is evident even to one blind that the witnesses are bribed by

Zachariah. And so, let Zachariah return the stone to Achior, and together

with it pay him thirty shekels, of this city, of law costs, and give ten

shekels to the priests for the temple. As for the self-revealed witnesses,

let them pay into the treasury five shekels each for bearing false

witness.”

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Three brothers then drew nigh to Solomon’s throne; they were at court

about an inheritance. Their father had told them before his death: “That

ye may not quarrel at division, I myself shall apportion ye in justice.

When I die, go beyond the knoll that is in the midst of the grove behind

the house, and dig therein. There shall ye find a box with three

divisions: know, that the topmost is for the eldest brother; the middle

one for the second; the lowest for the youngest.” And when, after his

death, they had gone, and had done as he had willed, they had found that

the topmost division was filled to the top with golden coins, whereas in

the middle one were lying only common bones, and in the lowest naught

but pieces of wood. And so among the younger brothers arose envy for the

eldest, and enmity; and in the end their life had become so unbearable

that they decided to turn to the king for counsel and judgment. And even

here, standing before the throne, they could not refrain from mutual

recriminations and affronts.

The king shook his head, heard them out, and spake:

“Cease quarreling; a stone is heavy, and the sand weighty, but a fool’s

wrath is heavier than them both. Your father was, it is plain to see, a

wise man and a just, and he has expressed his wishes in his testament

just as clearly as though it had been consummated before an hundred

witnesses. Is it possible that ye have not surmised at once, ye sorry

brawlers, that to the eldest brother he left all his moneys; to the

second, all his cattle and all his slaves; while to the youngest,--his

house and plow-land? Depart, therefore, in peace; and be no longer

enemies among yourselves.”

And the three brothers--but recently enemies--with beaming faces bowed

to the king’s feet and walked out of the Hall of Judgment arm in arm.

And the king decided also another suit at inheritance, begun three days

ago. A certain man, dying, had said that he was leaving all his goods

to the worthier of his two sons. But since neither one of them would

consent to call himself the worse one, they had therefore turned to the

king.

Solomon questioned them as to their pursuits, and, having heard them

answer that they were both hunters with the bow, he spake:

“Return home. I shall order the corpse of your father to be stood up

against a tree. We shall first see which one of you shall hit his breast

more truly with an arrow, and then decide your suit.”

Now both brothers had returned in the custody of a man sent by the king

for their surveillance. He it was whom the king questioned about the

contest.

“I have fulfilled all that thou hast commanded,” said his man. “I stood

the corpse of the old man against a tree, and gave each brother his bow

and arrows. The elder was the first to shoot. At a distance of an

hundred and twenty ells he hit just the place where, in a living man,

the heart beats.”

“A splendid shot,” said Solomon. “And the younger?”

“The younger ... Forgive me, O King,--I could not insist upon thy

command being fulfilled exactly.... The younger did make his string

taut, but suddenly lowered the bow to his feet, turned around, and said,

weeping: ‘Nay, this I can not do.... I will not shoot at the corpse of

my father.’”

“Therefore, let the estate of his father belong to him,” decided the

king. “He has proven the worthier son. As for the elder, if he desire,

he may join the number of my bodyguards. I have need of such strong and

rapacious men, sure of hand and true of eye, and with a heart grown over

with wool.”

Next three men came before the king. Carrying on a mutual traffic in

merchandise, they had amassed much money. And so, when the time had

come for them to journey to Jerusalem, they had sewn up the gold in a

leathern belt and had set out on their way. On the road they had spent

a night in a forest, and, for safe-keeping, had buried the belt in the

ground. But when they awoke in the morning, they found no belt in the

place where they had put it.

They all accused one another of the secret theft, and since all three

seemed to be men of exceeding cunning, and subtile of speech, the king

therefore said unto them:

“Ere I decide your suit, hearken unto that which I shall relate to you.

A certain fair maiden promised her beloved, who was setting out upon a

journey, to await his return, and to yield her virginity to none save

him. But, having gone away, he within a short while married another

maiden, in another city, and she came to know of this. In the absence of

her beloved, a wealthy and kind-hearted youth in her city, a friend of

her childhood, paid court to her. Constrained by her parents she durst

not, for shame and fear, tell him of her pact, and took him to spouse.

But when, at the conclusion of the marriage feast, he led her to the

bed-chamber, and would lay down with her, she began to implore him:

‘Allow me to go to the city where my former beloved dwelleth. Let him

relieve me of my vow; then shall I return to thee, and do all thy

desire!’ And since the youth loved her exceedingly, he did agree to her

request, allowed her to go, and she went. On the way a robber fell upon

her, disheveled her, and was about to ravish her. But the maiden fell

down on her knees before him, and, in tears, implored him to spare her

virtue, telling the robber all that had befallen her, and her reason for

travelling to a strange city. And the robber, having heard her out, was

so astounded by her faithfulness to her word, and so touched by the

goodness of her bridegroom, that not only did he let the girl depart in

peace, but also returned to her the valuables he had taken. Now I ask

you, who of all these three did best before the countenance of God,--the

maiden, the bridegroom, or the robber?”

And one of the plaintiffs said that the maiden was the most worthy of

praise, for her steadfastness to her oath. Another marvelled at the

great love of her bridegroom; the third, however, found the action of

the robber the most magnanimous one.

And the king said to the last:

“Therefore, it is even thou who hast stolen the belt with the common

gold, for thou art by nature covetous, and dost desire that which is not

thine.”

But this man, having given his travelling staff to one of his

companions, spake, raising his hands aloft as though for an oath:

“I witness before Jehovah that the gold is not with me, but him!”

The king smiled and commanded one of his warriors:

“Take this man’s rod and break it in half.”

And when the warrior had carried out Solomon’s order, gold coins poured

out upon the floor, for they had been concealed within the hollowed-out

stick; as for the thief, he, struck by the wisdom of the king, fell down

before his throne and confessed his misdeed.

There also came into the House of Lebanon a woman, the poor widow of a

stone-cutter, and she spake:

“I cry for justice, O King! For the last two dinarii left me I bought

flour, put it into this large earthen bowl, and started to carry it

home. But a strong wind suddenly arose and did scatter my flour. O wise

king, who shall bring back this my loss? I now have naught wherewith to

feed my children.”

“When was this?” asked the king.

“It happened this morning, at dawn.”

And so Solomon commanded that there be summoned to him several

merchants, whose ships were to set out this day with merchandise for

Phoenicia, by way of Jaffa. And when, in alarm, they appeared in the

Hall of Judgment, the king asked them:

“Did ye pray God, or the gods, for a favourable wind for your ships?”

And they answered:

“Yea, O King. We did so. And our offerings were pleasing to God, for He

did send us a propitious wind.”

“I rejoice on your account,” said Solomon. “But the same wind has

scattered a poor woman’s flour that she was carrying in a bowl. Do ye

not deem it just, if ye have to recompense her?”

And they, made glad that the king had summoned them only for this, at

once filled the bowl by casting into it small and large silver coin. And

when, with tears, she began to thank the king, he smiled radiantly and

said:

“Wait, this is not yet all. This morning’s wind has bestowed joy upon me

as well, which I did not expect. And therefore, to the gifts of these

merchants, I shall add my kingly gift also.”

And he commanded Adoniram, the treasurer, to put on top of the money of

the merchants enough gold coin to cover the silver entirely out of

sight.

Solomon desired to see none unhappy on this day. He distributed more

rewards, pensions, and gifts than he sometimes did within a whole year,

and he pardoned Ahimaaz, the governor of the land of Naphtali, against

whom his wrath had flamed before, because of his lawless levies; and he

commuted the faults of many who had transgressed the law, nor did he

overlook any of the petitions of his subjects,--save one.

When the king was passing out from the House at Lebanon through the

small southern door, one in a garment of yellow leather stood up in his

path,--a squat, broad-shouldered man, darkly-ruddy and morose of face,

with a black, bushy beard, with a neck like a bull’s, and an austere

gaze from underneath shaggy, black eyebrows. This was the high priest

of Moloch’s temple. He uttered but one word in a supplicating voice:

“King!...”

In the bronze belly of his god were seven divisions: one for meal,

another for doves, the third for sheep, the fourth for rams, the fifth

for calves, the sixth for beeves; but the seventh, meant for living

infants brought by their mothers, had long stood empty at the interdict

of the king.

Solomon walked in silence past the priest, but the latter stretched out

his hands after him and exclaimed with supplication:

“King! I adjure thee by thy joy!... Show me this kindness, O king, and I

shall reveal to thee what danger threatens thy life.”

Solomon made no reply; and the eyes of the priest, who had clenched his

powerful hands into fists, followed him to the exit with a ferocious

glare.

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