The Man Who Desired Gold
Bansir, the chariot builder of Babylon, was thoroughly discouraged. From his seat upon the low wall
surrounding his property, he gazed sadly at his simple home and the open workshop in which stood a
partially completed chariot.
His wife frequently appeared at the open door. Her
furtive glances in his direction reminded him that the
meal bag was almost empty and he should be at
work finishing the chariot, hammering and hewing,
polishing and painting, stretching taut the leather
over the wheel rims, preparing it for delivery so he
could collect from his wealthy customer.
Nevertheless,' his fat, muscular body sat stolidly
upon the wall. His slow mind was struggling patiently with a problem for which he could find no
answer. The hot, tropical sun, so typical of this valley
of the Euphrates, beat down upon him mercilessly.
Beads of perspiration formed upon his brow and
trickled down unnoticed to lose themselves in the
hairy jungle on his chest.
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Beyond his home towered the high terraced walls
surrounding the king's palace. Nearby, cleaving the
blue heavens, was the painted tower of the Temple
of Bel. In the shadow of such grandeur was his simple home and many others far less neat and well
cared for. Babylon was like this—a mixture of grandeur and squalor, of dazzling wealth and direst poverty, crowded together without plan or system within
the protecting walls of the city.
Behind him, had he cared to turn and look, the
noisy chariots of the rich jostled and crowded aside
the sandaled tradesmen as well as the barefooted
beggars. Even the rich were forced to turn into the
gutters to clear the way for the long lines of slave
water carriers, on the "king's business," each bearing
a heavy goatskin of water to be poured upon the
hanging gardens.
Bansir was too engrossed in his own problem to
hear or heed the confused hubbub of the busy city.
It was the unexpected twanging of the strings from
a familiar lyre that aroused him from his reverie. He
turned and looked into the sensitive, smiling face of
his best friend—Kobbi, the musician.
"May the Gods bless thee with great liberality, my
good friend," began Kobbi with an elabourate salute.
"Yet, it does appear they have already been so generous thou needest not to labour. I rejoice with thee in
thy good fortune. More, I would even share it with
thee. Pray, from thy purse which must be bulging
else thou wouldst be busy in yon shop, extract but
two humble shekels and lend them to me until after
the noblemen's feast this night. Thou wilt not miss
them ere they are returned."
"If I did have two shekels," Bansir responded
gloomily, "to no one could I lend them—not even to
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you, my best of friends; for they would be my fortune—my entire fortune. No one lends his entire fortune, not even to his best friend."
"What," exclaimed Kobbi with genuine surprise.
"Thou hast not one shekel in thy purse, yet sit like
a statue upon a wall! Why not complete that chariot?
How else canst thou provide for thy noble appetite?
'Tis not like thee, my friend. Where is thy endless
energy? Doth something distress thee? Have the
Gods brought to thee troubles?"
"A torment from the Gods it must be," Bansir
agreed. "It began with a dream, a senseless dream,
in which I thought I was a man of means. From my
belt hung a handsome purse, heavy with coins. There
were shekels which I cast with careless freedom to
the beggars; there were pieces of silver with which I
did buy finery for my wife and whatever I did desire
for myself; there were pieces of gold which made me
feel assured of the future and unafraid to spend the
silver. A glorious feeling of contentment was within
me! You would not have known me for thy hardworking friend. Nor wouldst have known my wife,
so free from wrinkles was her face and shining with
happiness. She was again the smiling maiden of our
early married days."
"A pleasant dream, indeed," commented Kobbi,
"but why should such pleasant feelings as it aroused
turn thee into a glum statue upon the wall?"
"Why, indeed! Because when I awoke and remembered how empty was my purse, a feeling of rebellion swept over me. Let us talk it over together, for,
as the sailors do say, we ride in the same boat, we
two. As youngsters, we went together to the priests
to learn wisdom. As young men, we shared each other's pleasures. As grown men, we have always been
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close friends. We have been contented subjects of our
kind. We have been satisfied to work long hours and
spend our earnings freely. We have earned much
coin in the years that have passed, yet to know the
joys that come from wealth, we must dream about
them. Bah! Are we more than dumb sheep? We live
in the richest city in all the world. The travellers do
say none equals it in wealth. About us is much display of wealth, but of it we ourselves have naught.
After half a lifetime of hard labour, thou, my best of
friends, hast an empty purse and sayest to me, 'May
I borrow such a trifle as two shekels until after the
noblemen's feast this night?' Then, what do I reply?
Do I say, 'Here is my purse; its contents will I gladly
share?' No, I admit that my purse is as empty as
thine. What is the matter? Why cannot we acquire
silver and gold—more than enough for food and
robes?
"Consider, also, our sons," Bansir continued, "are
they not following in the footsteps of their fathers?
Need they and their families and their sons and their
sons' families live all their lives in the midst of such
treasurers of gold, and yet, like us, be content to banquet upon sour goat's milk and porridge?"
"Never, in all the years of our friendship, didst
thou talk like this before, Bansir." Kobbi was
puzzled.
"Never in all those years did I think like this before. From early dawn until darkness stopped me, I
have laboured to build the finest chariots any man
could make, soft-heartedly hoping some day the
Gods would recognize my worthy deeds and bestow
upon me great prosperity. This they have never done.
At last, I realize this they will never do. Therefore,
my heart is sad. I wish to be a man of means. I wish
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to own lands and cattle, to have fine robes and coins
in my purse. I am willing to work for these things
with all the strength in my back, with all the skill in
my hands, with all the cunning in my mind, but I
wish my labours to be fairly rewarded. What is the
matter with us? Again I ask you! Why cannot we
have our just share of the good things so plentiful for
those who have the gold with which to buy them?"
"Would I know an answer!" Kobbi replied. "No
better than thou am I satisfied. My earnings from my
lyre are quickly gone. Often must I plan and scheme
that my family be not hungry. Also, within my breast
is a deep longing for a lyre large enough that it may
truly sing the strains of music that do surge through
my mind. With such an instrument could I make
music finer than even the king has heard before?"
"Such a lyre thou shouldst have. No man in all
Babylon could make it sing more sweetly; could
make it sing so sweetly, not only the king but the
Gods themselves would be delighted. But how mayest thou secure it while we both of us are as poor as
the king's slaves? Listen to the bell! Here they come."
He pointed to the long column of half-naked, sweating water bearers plodding labouriously up the narrow street from the river. Five abreast they marched,
each bent under a heavy goatskin of water.
"A fine figure of a man, he who doth lead them."
Kobbi indicated the wearer of the bell who marched
in front without a load. "A prominent man in his
own country, 'tis easy to see:"
"There are many good figures in the line," Bansir
agreed, "as good men as we. Tall, blond men from
the north, laughing black men from the south, little
brown men from the nearer countries. All marching
together from the river to the gardens, back and
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forth, day after day, year after year. Naught of happiness to look forward to. Beds of straw upon which
to sleep—hard grain porridge to eat. Pity the poor
brutes, Kobbi!"
"Pity them I do. Yet, thou dost make me see how
little better off are we, free men though we call
ourselves."
"That is truth, Kobbi, unpleasant thought though it
be. We do not wish to go on year after year living slavish
lives. Working, working, working! Getting nowhere."
"Might we not find out how others acquire gold
and do as they do?" Kobbi inquired.
"Perhaps there is some secret we might learn if we
but sought from those who knew," replied Bansir
thoughtfully.
"This very day," suggested Kobbi, "I did pass our
old friend, Arkad, riding in his golden chariot. This
I will say, he did not look over my humble head as
many in his station might consider his right. Instead,
he did wave his hand that all onlookers might see
him pay greetings and bestow his smile of friendship
upon Kobbi, the musician."
"He is claimed to be the richest man in all Babylon," Bansir mused.
"So rich the king is said to seek his golden aid in
affairs of the treasury," Kobbi replied.
"So rich," Bansir interrupted, "I fear if I should
meet him in the darkness of the night, I should lay
my hands upon his fat wallet."
"Nonsense," reproved Kobbi, "a man's wealth is
not in the purse he carries. A fat purse quickly empties if there be no golden stream to refill it. Arkad
has an income that constantly keeps his purse full,
no matter how liberally he spends."
"Income, that is the thing," ejaculated Bansir. "I
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wish an income that will keep flowing into my purse
whether I sit upon the wall or travel to far lands.
Arkad must know how a man can make an income
for himself. Dost suppose it is something he could
make clear to a mind as slow as mine?"
"Methinks he did teach his knowledge to his son,
Nomasir," Kobbi responded. "Did he not go to Nineveh and, so it is told at the inn, become, without
aid from his father, one of the richest men in that
city?"
"Kobbi, thou bringest to me a rare thought." A
new light gleamed in Bansir's eyes. "It costs nothing
to ask wise advice from a good friend and Arkad
was always that. Never mind though our purses be
as empty as the falcon's nest of a year ago. Let that
not detain us. We are weary of being without gold
in the midst of plenty. We wish to become men of
means. Come, let us go to Arkad and ask how we,
also, may acquire incomes for ourselves."
"Thou speakest with true inspiration, Bansir. Thou
bringeth to my mind a new understanding. Thou
makest me to realize the reason why we have never
found any measure of wealth. We never sought it.
Thou hast laboured patiently to build the staunchest
chariots in Babylon. To that purpose was devoted
your best endeavours. Therefore, at it thou didst succeed. I strove to become a skilful lyre player. And,
at it I did succeed.
"In those things toward which we exerted our best
endeavours we succeeded. The Gods were content to
let us continue thus. Now, at last, we see a light,
bright like that from the rising sun. It biddeth us to
learn more that we may prosper more. With a new
understanding we shall find honourable ways to accomplish our desires."
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"Let us go to Arkad this very day," Bansir urged.
"Also, let us ask other friends of our boyhood days,
. who have fared no better than ourselves, to join us
that they, too, may share in his wisdom."
"Thou wert ever thus thoughtful of thy friends,
Bansir. Therefore hast thou many friends. It shall be
as thou sayest. We go this day and take them with
us."
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