Judah the Pious Read Free Page B

inattention.
    “How can you be so impudent?” cried the red-faced courtier, throwing his taut, massive body directly in the rabbi’s path. “Or have you never heard that it befits swine like yourself to kneel in the presence of the sovereign?”
    “I’m too tired to kneel,” explained Eliezer. “And besides, I fear that hours of your precious time might be wasted in getting me back on my feet.”
    “A very funny old man,” hissed the noble. “Tongues have been cut out for much less wit.”
    “Then do so,” said the rabbi amiably. “I am eighty-nine years old, and that, as I see it, rather narrows your options. On the one hand, you can execute me immediately. On the other, should you feel inclined towards great kindness, you can keep me here in the castle, stuffing my thin belly with your finest wines and sweetmeats, and it would still be unlikely for me to last much longer. Now, while you are deciding to kill me and so shorten my life by a few months, I hope you will at least allow me to pass my last hours chatting pleasantly with your lord.”
    Waving aside the stammering nobleman, Eliezer shuffled forward until he stood within inches of the throne. Bending down, he winked merrily at the king and shrugged his bony shoulders.
    “King Casimir,” he whispered, “you can see for yourself that at this rate we will soon get nowhere. Meaning no disrespect, I wonder: have you ever tried to study the beautiful king bee when the hive was crawling with bothersome, useless drones? A waste of effort, I assure you. And as long as your worthy advisors continue to prattle about protocol, ceremony, bowing and scraping, my visit will come to nothing. Send these men away, if only for a while. Should you later have any cause for regret, I swear that I will pay with a pint of my blood for every hour they are gone.”
    The king’s clear blue eyes glimmered, then suddenly began to shine as he glanced into a nearby mirror and saw the nobleman stamping his foot in fury. Never before had Casimir seen his courtiers openly defied; no one had ever urged him to oppose their authority; it had never been suggested that he take a single action which had not been approved by centuries of court practice. The novelty of it thrilled him, and at the same time, calmed him by shutting his ears to the noise of his advisors buzzing about his head, mumbling about the dangers to his dignity, his prestige, even his physical safety. Sitting in the center of their swarm, the King of Poland was, for the first time, attempting to govern himself.
    By making Casimir aware of his dependence on the courtiers, the rabbi’s request had strengthened his desire to thwart them. But, each time he considered dismissing them from the hall, he remembered that, since his parents’ death, these cold men had been his only family. And he knew that the old rabbi would eventually abandon him to the icy, reproachful glares which might remain on their faces for months. Thus, he wavered back and forth between rebellion and submission until his reason was exhausted, and inclined towards the easier course.
    “I am afraid that I cannot in good conscience accede to your demand,” said the king, frowning, raising his voice to drown out the courtiers’ approving murmurs. “I would prefer to be surrounded by men whom I trust, whose wisdom and experience have often kept me from reaching rash conclusions.”
    Rabbi Eliezer nodded. “Suit yourself, King Casimir,” he smiled slyly. “But I feel I must warn you about the dangers of relying too heavily on the judgment of others; submission is a difficult habit to break. Who knows? You may soon begin to see the value of certain bits of wisdom which you have for some time been resisting. Perhaps you will finally agree to marry one of the frightful princesses of the realm—the rich, young duchess of the wens and boils, or the heiress whose hyena-laugh will certainly shatter all the mirrors in your palace. Then, if I may venture to