The days passed quickly. Taphath and Elimelech sat in the ivory tower, playing music and singing, studying and praying. Elimelech proved to be a Torah scholar and a deeply righteous man, immersed in Torah, and marked with humility and good manners. He answered all her questions patiently with wisdom. The holy books in her room revealed themselves to Elimelech as a treasure that outshone all the precious things in the world. Taphath would ask, and Elimelech would answer.
“Elimelech, may I ask you one more question?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
“Of course. Ask whatever you like,” he said when he saw the odd expression on her face.
Taphath looked down at her hands, twisting together, trying to arrange the embarrassing question. “I am asking only because I know you will not ask it,” she said quietly. “You do not have to answer now — or at all, if you do not want to.”
Elimelech looked at her, pushing away his heart’s desire, knowing clearly that such a thing could not be. “All right,” he said in a whisper.
“But promise me that if you decide to answer, your answer will be true and honest, straight from the depths of your heart — not because I am the daughter of King Solomon,” she pleaded.
“I promise,” he whispered, trying with all his strength to still the pounding of his heart.
“Do you want to marry me?” she asked, tears of shame spilling from her eyes.
Elimelech sat as if struck by lightning, feeling as though his heart would burst from his chest and tear through his clothes.
“You do not have to answer,” she sobbed, grieved by the humiliation of his silence. “You may stay here, if you want… forget what I asked you.”
Elimelech answered in a low, shaking voice. “Want to? My heart has longed for it from the day I met you. In my most impossible dreams, I never dared imagine that I would merit marrying a woman like you. Hundreds of times a day, thoughts came to me of how I might ask you to marry me — thoughts I pushed away because I knew how far reality stood between us. Every moment in your presence hurt me like a dagger in my heart, because I knew the day would come when your father would take you from here and give you to another man. Nightly nightmares surrounded me, and in them I saw you being taken far away from me. There is nothing in the world I desire more than to marry you.” The two looked at one another through tears of joy, letting the wall that had stood between them fall away.
A short while passed — an hour of eyes weeping with happiness. Elimelech rose from his place, trying to settle his mind. “How will we do this? We have no witnesses and no marriage contract, and I have nothing to give you for the betrothal,” he said. Taphath looked at Elimelech with a smile, knowing his brilliant mind would find a solution to the complex question of Jewish law. “Witnesses... We cannot use the elders here as witnesses, because if they know anything about this, they will throw me out of here at once. We will have to take the angels Gabriel and Michael as witnesses. Even if that is not ideal, in the present situation, we have no choice.”
Taphath smiled silently. The first problem had been solved. “A marriage contract...” he thought aloud. “There are blank pieces of parchment in the books here. We can cut a piece from them, but there is nothing to write with.” He strained his mind. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. “That is not a problem. I will draw blood from my finger and write the marriage contract with it.”
Taphath felt the prick as though it had struck her own heart for a moment, and then her smile widened. The second problem had been solved.
“Betrothal money... I have nothing. Even the clothes I wore when I came here, we threw into the sea — and I do not know whether they were worth even a single coin.” Elimelech paced the room like a lion in a cage. “I have nothing to give her,” he thought aloud. “I have nothing but my own body and flesh.” Suddenly, a smile flashed on his face as an idea entered his mind. “King David, your holy grandfather, betrothed King Saul’s daughter with one hundred foreskins of the Philistines. I will give you myself as the betrothal money, if you are willing... Surely, I am worth more than what your ancestor gave King Saul.” He looked at her with a smile and asked, “Are you willing?”
Taphath rose to her feet. “With great joy, my future husband,” she answered.
Elimelech went to work. Quickly, he cut a piece of parchment from one of the books, took a pin, and pricked his finger without hesitation. Taphath closed her eyes in pain each time the pin pierced his skin. The marriage contract was written. Taphath hurried to put on a festive white dress in honor of her marriage to the man her heart had chosen.
Elimelech looked at Taphath as she walked toward him, her eyes wet with emotion. He lifted his eyes to Heaven and said in a pleading voice, “Gabriel and Michael, angels and heavenly ministers appointed over Israel, we ask you to serve as witnesses that I, Elimelech son of Avinadav, betroth Taphath daughter of King Solomon with my very own self.” Elimelech spread out the marriage contract as though showing it upward. A few seconds passed, and Elimelech lowered the document. With wide eyes, he saw it signed: “Gabriel, witness” and “Michael, witness.”
Five months passed from the day of the wedding. Taphath’s belly began to grow, revealing the life forming within her. Joy and happiness filled the days of the young couple, who lived securely in the ivory tower. The elders, absorbed in their studies, made sure the king’s daughter was fed, then returned to their benches in the study hall.
“I do not know what has happened to me, but I think I no longer see so well,” one of the elders said to his friend.
His friend lifted his eyes from the book and said, “Perhaps you need larger writing, or maybe we should light another lamp.”
The elder waved his hand dismissively and answered, “I see the writing perfectly well. Something else seems very strange to me. I do not even know how to say it, because it sounds outright foolish and completely impossible.”
“Go on,” his friend urged him.
The elder whispered, hoping the other elders would not hear him and mock him. “Just do not laugh out loud, but it seems to me that Her Highness is expecting — unless she has merely gained a great deal of weight, though it does not seem that way to me.”
His friend clutched his head with both hands and said, “I am not laughing, because it seems that way to me too. I did not want to say anything in case you would mock me, but the last time I saw her, I nearly wished her congratulations before I remembered that it was impossible. Perhaps she wants to test whether we are paying attention to her. Though to be honest, I find that hard to believe, because her face has also become more beautiful, a little rounder, and radiant — and you know, the face of an expectant woman shines.”
More elders joined the conversation, revealing to their friends that they too thought the king’s daughter looked expectant. “We must look into this, and if the concern proves true, we will have to inform the king. I hope we are mistaken. Otherwise, it may cost us our heads,” said the elder in charge of the group.
“Your Highness, the princess Taphath,” came the call, accompanied by a knock at the door.
Taphath rose slowly from the bed. A few minutes earlier, she had felt sick, and she had lain down to rest. “One moment...” she said wearily, dragging herself toward the door. She opened it and saw the seventy elders standing crowded together on the stairs, peering at her with fearful curiosity.
“Yes?” she asked, as if she did not know the reason for the commotion.
“Your Highness, my lady,” the elder stammered, his eyes fixed on the woman’s swelling belly. “Could it be? I mean, it hardly seems possible, but we must ask… Is it possible that Her Highness is expecting?”
A smile spread across her face. “Yes, it is actually very possible, learned gentlemen. I am five months along,” she said, lovingly stroking her belly.
“How can that be! Impossible!” the elders cried out in confusion.
“Please, gentlemen, return to your books and debate whether reality is realistic. In the meantime, I need to rest a little. I do not feel so well. Do not worry, it is nothing serious — just the ordinary effects of pregnancy.” She began to close the door.
“But who is the father?” one of the elders asked in despair.
“I do not think that is your concern,” she said with a chuckle as she shut the door.
“Taphath is expecting?!” the king roared at the delegation of elders who had come to inform him of what they had discovered.
The elders trembled in fear, nodding silently and looking in terror at the king, who had risen from his place in burning anger.
“How did this happen? Who is the father?” the king demanded, trying to master the storm within him.
“We do not know,” one of the elders whispered. “No man entered the fortress, and as the king knows, the father is none of us. We asked Her Highness who the father is, but she said it is none of our business.”
The king breathed deeply, settling his mind. “See that my ship is prepared. In one hour, we sail to the island at once,” he said to the aide standing ready to serve him.
Taphath and Elimelech looked toward the horizon. The sun had begun to rise, painting the calm sea blue and green. The yellowish and red shades of the brightening sky gleamed upon the white ship advancing toward the island. The golden lion embroidered on the sail brought a smile of joy mixed with unease to the faces of those watching.
“I understand that I will soon meet my revered father-in-law,” Elimelech said to Taphath.
Taphath said, “Do not worry, my dear husband. I am sure my father will quickly recognize your worth and rejoice with us in our happiness.” She spoke with quiet confidence, though in her heart she prayed the meeting would pass peacefully.
“Hello, Father,” Taphath said as she opened the door wide to the sound of the authoritative knock. She saw only her father, without a delegation, and understood that he had preferred to come alone so as not to magnify the disgrace. Seeing the stern look on his face, she stopped herself from leaping into her father’s arms and embracing him. His eyes were fixed on her belly, which left no doubt as to her condition.
“So, it is true. You are expecting,” the king said harshly, his face showing anger and disappointment.
“Yes, Father. I am about five months along,” Taphath answered, trying to give her voice a calm tone.
“Who is the father, if I may ask?” he growled, hoping his daughter had not disgraced herself.
“My husband, Elimelech son of Avinadav,” she said faintly.
“And where is your husband?” He emphasized the word “husband” as though mocking her phrasing.
“He is on the balcony, waiting to meet his wife’s father — if his wife’s father will agree to see him,” she said anxiously.
“His wife...” the king said, almost to himself. “Call your husband — or the man you refer to as your husband.”
Taphath hurried to the balcony and led her husband back after her, who had his face lowered. Elimelech bowed before the king, waiting for the king to tell him to rise.
“I understand your name is Elimelech son of Avinadav. Do you know the punishment for taking a woman without a marriage contract and betrothal?” the king said in anger while Elimelech was bowed to the ground. “And you even went further and took the king’s daughter as though she were a servant girl from the marketplace!”
“Forgive me, Father, for interrupting,” Taphath said, her eyes filled with tears. “But there is a marriage contract, and there was betrothal in accordance with the law of Moses and Israel. Please do not suspect us of a disgraceful act, Father,” she pleaded, handing the marriage contract to him.
The king looked at the document and understood that it had been written in blood. “Who told you that you could give your own self as betrothal money?” the king asked when he saw what was written.
“My lord the king, I learned it from your father, King David, who betrothed King Saul’s daughter with one hundred foreskins of the Philistines. True, the comparison is not exact, because those hundred foreskins were fit as food for dogs, and therefore had the legal status of monetary value, while in giving myself to your daughter, there is seemingly no monetary value, since I cannot sell my body. Because I am poor and destitute, I could sell myself as a servant, which means I am worth at least something in the slave market. Out of my desire to marry your daughter, I gladly offered to sell myself to her and give her my monetary value as the betrothal money,” Elimelech said while still on the ground.
A faint smile rose to Solomon’s face. “Stand up,” he commanded. “I see that you are learned and that you have an interesting line of reasoning,” the king said, looking at the young man as he stood before him with lowered eyes.
“I try, my lord the king. I know I am not a Torah scholar, but I try to learn as much as I can whenever I have free time,” he said bashfully, as though aware of the difference between his learning and the king’s.
Solomon looked around at the room he had built for his daughter, but had never visited. He pointed to the large bookcase filled with books and commanded Elimelech, “Bring a book and let us study something.”
The king and Elimelech sat on opposite sides of the table with the book between them. The king asked questions, and Elimelech answered; the king challenged, and Elimelech resolved the difficulties with humility. For long hours, the two were swept into study, forgetting Taphath, who sat at the side of the room and looked with affection at the two men learning. She saw an expression of satisfaction on her father’s face as he listened to her husband, even though she did not understand all the rich exchange between them. The king leaned back, looked at the young man with pleasure, and said, “Good, now please tell me who you are and how you came here.”
Elimelech began to tell the king the course of his life: the crushing poverty, and yet the joy that filled his parents’ home. His departure in search of a livelihood, the shelter he had found in the hide of the ox, and the eagle that had carried him across the sea.
The king burst into rolling laughter, looking at his son-in-law and daughter with affection, unable to stop laughing. Elimelech and Taphath, astonished by the laughter, slowly began to join him. They did not understand what he was laughing about, but from his expression, they understood that he approved of their marriage. “I will tell you what made me laugh, my beloved ones. When I sent you here, my daughter, I asked you not to ask me why I was doing such a strange thing, and in your righteousness, you did not ask. Yet I am certain that during the long time you sat here alone, the thought must have struck your heart: ‘Why did my father exile me? Why is my father being so cruel to his daughter?’ You surely tried to give yourself all kinds of explanations for the experiment I was conducting.”
The king saw confirmation in his daughter’s eyes. “Apparently, you did not grasp how precise my actions were,” he said with a smile, and continued. “Several years ago, when I began thinking about your match and searching for a husband worthy of your stature and your noble spirit, I saw, through every wisdom available to me, one clear answer: your husband was meant to be a poor and destitute man. I tried all sorts of ways to change what I had seen, and when I realized I could not, I said I would send you far away and see how the matter would unfold. I told myself that if I could not change it, at least I would witness the full force of Heavenly providence. And behold the wonder: a destitute man climbs into the carcass of an animal, and an eagle carries the poor man across the sea — straight to the wife appointed for him.” The king rose from his place, extended his hand lovingly to Elimelech, and drew his bashful son-in-law into his embrace. “Blessed is the One who gives a wife to a man,” he said, looking at his daughter with love.
