the face, to take his crown from his head and set it upon her own.  This was in his old age, and it is in old age that men fall under the unreasonable sway of women—­he was once a wise man, so we should refrain from blame, and pity our brethren who have fallen headlong into the sway of these Chaldean and Arabian women.  I might say much more on this subject, but words are useless, so deeply is the passion for women ingrained in the human heart.  Proceed, therefore, Brother:  we would hear the trouble that women have brought on thee, Brother Eleakim.  At once all eyes were turned towards the little fellow whose wandering odours put into everybody’s mind thoughts of the great price he must have paid in bracelets and fine linen, but Eleakim told a different story—­that he was sought for himself alone, too much so, for the Arabian woman that fell to his lot was not content with the chaste and reasonable intercourse suitable for the begetting of children, the reason for which they had met, but would practise with him heathen rites, and of a kind so terrible that one night he fled to his president to ask for counsel.  But the president, who was absorbed in his own pleasures, drove him from his door, saying that every man must settle such questions with his wife.  Hazael threw up his hands.  Say no more, Brother Eleakim, thou didst well to leave that cenoby.  We welcome thee, and having heard thee in brief we would now hear Brother Shaphan.  At once all eyes were turned towards the short, thick, silent man, who had till now ventured into no words; and as they looked upon him their thoughts dwelt on the strange choice the curator had made when he chose Brother Shaphan for a husband; for though they were without knowledge of women, their sense told them that Brother Shaphan would not be pleasing to a woman.  But Eleakim’s story had prepared them for every strange taste, and they waited eagerly for Shaphan.  But Shaphan had not spoken many words when tears began to roll down his cheeks, and the brethren of the Brook Kerith bethought themselves that it might be a kindly act to avert their eyes from him till he recovered his composure; but as his grief continued they sought to comfort him, telling him that his troubles were now ended.  He would not, however, lift his face from his hands at their entreaty, and his companions said that the intervals between his tears since he was married were never long.  At these words Shaphan lifted his face from his hands and dashed some tears from his eyelids.  He will tell us now, the brethren said to themselves, but he only uttered a few incoherent words, and his face sank back into his hands.