Fifty pieces of gold.

Never before had Rodan, the spearmaker of Old Babylon, carried so much gold in his leather

wallet.

Happily down the king's highway from the palace of his most liberal majesty, he strode.

Cheerfully, the gold clinked, as the wallet at his belt swayed with each step.

The sweetest music he had ever heard.

Fifty pieces of gold, all his.

He could hardly realize his good fortune.

What power in those clinking discs?

They could purchase anything he wanted.

A grand house, land, cattle, camels, horses, chariots, whatever he might desire.

What use should he make of it?

This evening, as he turned into a side street towards the home of his sister, he could think

of nothing he would rather possess than those same glittering, heavy pieces of gold.

It is to keep.

It was upon an evening, some days later, that a perplexed Rodan entered the shop of

Maython, the lender of gold and dealer in jewels and rare fabrics.

Glancing neither to the right nor the left at the colorful articles artfully displayed,

he passed through to the living quarters at the rear.

Here he found the Gentile Maython lounging upon a rug, partaking of a meal served by a

black slave.

I would counsel with thee, for I know not what to do."

...