Judah the Pious Read Online Free

predict, you will find that your courtiers are indeed so wise and experienced that none of them will ever volunteer to take your place in the bed of such a woman.”
    Gasping with surprise and indignation, the nobles closed into a tight knot around the king, as if to shield him from the rabbi’s disturbing words; several broke from the group and began to move threateningly towards the old man. Then, a slow smile lit King Casimir’s face. Calmly, with great dignity, he asked his courtiers if they would mind waiting in the antechamber until he rang for their return.
    As the nobles reluctantly withdrew, King Casimir could not bring himself to look at the rabbi, but stared bashfully at the ground. When the last iron-tipped boot heel had clicked against the ebony doorstep, Eliezer and the king simultaneously uttered deep, involuntary sighs of relief; catching each other at it, both pretended not to notice.
    “Well,” began Casimir at last, “I must say, that was a good trick, alluding to the duchess and such. But really, you must tell me how you did it. Surely, you are not going to pass yourself off as a great clairvoyant, capable of reading the secrets of the past and future at one glance. Admit it: it was just a matter of resourcefulness, a few pennies slipped into the apron pocket of a knowledgeable palace chambermaid.”
    “If I had money to waste on gossip,” laughed Eliezer, “I would have eaten breakfast this morning.”
    “In other words,” the king insisted, “you are saying that you knew it all beforehand, thanks to a few weeks of careful research into court affairs and the state of the noble families of Poland.”
    “Nonsense,” answered the old man. “My secret is an empty head, purposely kept blank, so that the slightest tremor of an eyelid which passes before it can inscribe a story there, more accurate and complicated than anything I could have read.”
    Casimir raised his pale eyebrows and leaned forward, as if he were watching the old man work an elaborate shell game. “In that case,” he said deliberately, “I suppose your mind must be equally empty of reasons why your people should be allowed to persist in their barbaric custom.”
    Turning his head slightly, Eliezer threw the king a sarcastic glance. “If there is one thing I admire,” he said, “it is a young man who can beat me so effortlessly in a battle of wits. But, I must admit, you have come much closer to the truth than you realize. Although that subject is exactly what I have come to discuss, I really do not know of any arguments which I can count upon to convince you.
    “Yet, be that as it may, one thing is certain: I have stood on my feet much longer than is usually considered possible for an eighty-nine-year-old gentleman. Were there another chair in the room, I would never dare ask you to relinquish your throne. But, under the circumstances, I see no alternative. Besides, should you grow tired, your young body is still limber enough to lower itself down to the carpeted steps at my feet.”
    For the second time that day, Casimir found himself without a single precedent; certainly, no one had ever made such an unseemly demand of the King of Poland. His logic told him that the request was reasonable, for he could see the old man’s skinny frame beginning to tremble. Still, it made him shudder to imagine the filthy, moth-eaten black robe pressed up against the embroidered cushions. And what a frightful scandal would ensue, should his advisors find him in such an undignified position, curled up like a disciple at the rabbi’s yellow, calloused feet! Despite himself, Casimir looked furtively towards the door of the antechamber. It was this glance which irked him into standing up and offering the rabbi his seat.
    “Thank you,” nodded Eliezer, lifting his hem and weaving a bit unsteadily as he mounted the steps. “You have a strong, young body. A boy of your age could probably stand for hours without growing weary.”
    Casimir,