barren and have neither son nor daughter, must I sit apart. Were I a man I would rather die than be such a slave, but the conventions of our tribe make slaves of women.’
‘Have I the soul of a man or have I the soul of a slave? What think you?’ I asked.
‘Have you a desire to repay the just debts you owe in Babylon?’
‘Yes, I have the desire, but I see no way.’
‘If thou contentedly let the years slip by and make no effort to repay, then thou hast but the contemptible soul of a slave. No man is otherwise who cannot respect himself and no man can respect himself who does not repay honest debts.’
‘But what can I do who am a slave in Syria?’
‘Stay a slave in Syria, thou weakling.’
‘I am not a weakling,’ I denied hotly.
‘Then prove it.’
‘How?’
‘Does not thy great king fight his enemies in every way he can and with every force he has? Thy debts are thy enemies that have run thee out of Babylon. You left them alone and they grew too strong for thee. Had’st fought them as a man, thou couldst have conquered them and been one honored among thy townspeople. But thou had not the soul to fight them and behold thou hast gone down until thou art a slave in Syria.’
Much I thought over her unkind accusations and many defensive phrases I worded to prove myself not—42—
