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Updated: May 6, 2025
It reached that hospitable table in Cairo where each noon half a hundred learned Cabalists dined at the palace of the Saraph-Bashi, the Jewish Master of the Mint, himself given to penances and visions, and swathed in sackcloth below the purple robes with which he drove abroad in his chariot of state.
But wilt thou not save us by thy human might?" "How so?" "Go for us, we pray thee, on a mission to the friendly Saraph-Bashi of Cairo. His wealth alone can ransom us." "All that man can do I will do," said Sabbataï. "May thy strength increase!" came the grateful ejaculation, and white-bearded sages stooped to kiss the hem of his garment.
Only at mid-day did they repair to the table of the Saraph-Bashi. "Hadst any perils at sea?" asked the host on the first day. "Men say the Barbary Corsairs are astir again." Sabbataï remained silent, but Samuel Primo, his secretary, took up the reply. "Perils!" quoth he. "My Master will not speak of them, but the Captain will tell thee a tale. We never thought to pass Rhodes!"
He appointed their meeting in the Palace of the Saraph-Bashi. Then, unable to rest, he mounted the hill of the citadel and saw an auspicious golden glow over the mosques and houses of Cairo, illumining even the desert and the Pyramids. He stood watching the sun sink lower and lower, till suddenly it went out like a snuffed candle.
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