vow."

"Be it so, then," said the other: "arise, and follow me."

The Demon took a torch in his hand, and led the Rabbi, through winding
passages of his palace, to the door of a lofty chamber, which he
opened with a key that he took from a niche in the wall. On entering
the room, Jochonan saw that it was of solid silver--floor, ceiling,
walls, even to the threshold and the door-posts; and the curiously
carved roof and borders of the ceiling shone in the torchlight as if
they were the fanciful work of frost. In the midst were heaps of
silver money, piled up in immense urns of the same metal, even over
the brim.

"Thou hast done me a serviceable act, Rabbi," said the Demon: "take of
these what thou pleasest; ay, were it the whole."

"I cannot, my lord," said Jochonan. "I was adjured by thee to come
hither in the name of God, and in that name I came, not for fee or for
reward."

"Follow me," said the Prince of the Mazikin; and Jochonan did so into
an inner chamber.

It was of gold, as the other was of silver. Its golden roof was
supported by pillars and pilasters of gold, resting upon a golden
floor. The treasures of the kings of the earth would not purchase one
of the four and twenty vessels of golden coins, which were disposed in
six rows along the room. No wonder! for they were filled by the
constant labours of the Demons of the Mine. The heart of Jochonan was
moved by avarice when he saw them shining in yellow light, like the
autumnal sun, as they reflected the beams of the torch. But God
enabled him to persevere.

"These are thine," said the Demon: "one of the vessels which thou
beholdest would make thee richest of the sons of men, and I give thee
them all."

But Jochonan refused again, and the Prince of the Mazikin opened the
door of a third chamber, which was called the Hall of Diamonds. When
the Rabbi entered, he screamed aloud, and put his hands over his eyes,
for the lustre of the jewels dazzled him, as if he had looked upon the
noonday sun. In vases of agate were heaped diamonds beyond numeration,
the smallest of which was larger than a pigeon's egg. On alabaster
tables lay amethysts, topazes, rubies, beryls, and all other precious
stones, wrought by the hands of skilful artists, beyond power of
computation. The room was lighted by a carbuncle, which, from the end
of the hall, poured its ever-living light, brighter than the rays of
noontide, but cooler than the gentle radiance of the dewy moon. This