two prophets were brought before the emperor.
they had been causing a disturbance on the street of the capital, cursing each other roundly and each accusing the other of false dogma.
how, asked the vizier, seated at the emperor’s right hand, shall we decide between them?
here is what you do, the emperor addressed the captain of the guard. take both of these rascals to the top of the highest mountain in my domains, and throw them both off.
see which of them falls to the ground and shatters into a thousand pieces, and which of them floats to the ground like a feather and lands on his feet.
the two prophets were led away, and the emperor proceeded to the next order of business.
when they had descended the thousand golden steps of the palace, and exited the peaceful courtyard with its hundreds of sparkling fountains throwing water up to the sun, and found themselves out in the dusty street of the capital, the captain of the guard turned to the two prophets and said -
go about your business. do not let me see either of you for at least of week.
do you mean, asked the first prophet, that you are not going to take us to the highest mountain and throw us off it?
of course not. do either of you know where the highest mountain is, or how far away it is? or how to get there? i, for one, have better things to do than trying to find it, let alone climb it.
neither prophet had answers to the captain’s questions.
what are we to do for a week? asked the first prophet. prophecy is all we know.
find honest employment, the captain said.
how are we to do that? the second prophet asked, we do not have names, we are only first prophet and second prophet, and without names we can not find what you call honest employment.
call yourselves joe jones and bob lee, the captain said.
can we give you as a reference? the first prophet asked.
why not?
the captain of the guard departed.
the two erstwhile prophets looked at each other.
a cloud appeared in the sky, but no rain fell.
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