The Roman Emperor Hadrian was a cruel and wicked man. It was under his oppressive regime that the Bar Kochba revolt broke out, which ultimately led to destruction of the city of Betar. However, Hadrian was not without a sense of humor, albeit a malicious one.
Once, during one of the Emperor's periodic visits to the Holy Land, he was strolling through an orchard in Tiberias when he came across an old man. The elderly Jew with the long white beard was obviously well on in years, yet he was busily planting saplings in the ground. "Ancient one!" the Roman Emperor called out to him sarcastically. "You must have slacked off in your youth, that you need to work so hard in your old age!"
"No, your Majesty," the Jew replied. "I worked plenty hard when I was younger, and I see no reason to stop now. G-d willing, I will continue as long as the L-rd will give me strength."
"But surely," Hadrian persisted in taunting him, "you can't expect to enjoy the fruits of your labor. Where will you be by the time these trees bear fruit?"
"Everything is in G-d's hands," the Jew answered. "We are all in G-d's hands, young and old alike. If G-d so wishes, I will be able to enjoy them."
"That is highly unlikely," the Emperor said. "Tell me, how old are you?"
"Today is my one hundredth birthday."
"And you still hope to eat the fruit of these saplings? Hah! Don't you realize that there is only a very slim chance that you will have the opportunity?"
"If G-d wants it to happen, it will happen. But even if it doesn't, my work is not in vain. In the same way my parents toiled on my behalf, my labor will benefit future generations."
"Then here's to your good health," the Emperor said in parting. "And if you're still alive when these fruits ripen, let me know."
"I will be happy to fulfill the Emperor's command," the Jew replied.
Years passed, and the young saplings grew into sturdy fig trees. Indeed, the old man lived to eat the juicy and delicious fruit, and continued to enjoy vigorous health. The time had come to fulfill his promise to the Emperor.
After some initial difficulties getting past the royal guard the old man was granted an audience, but the Emperor did not recognize him. "What do you want, old man?" he asked impatiently. "And what's that in your basket?"
The old Jew reminded him of their previous encounter, and the promise the Emperor had extracted from him. The basket, he explained, was full of succulent figs for his Majesty's pleasure.
The Emperor was shocked. After all, the elderly Jew had already been ancient at the time of their last meeting...
The Emperor ordered a golden chair to be brought for the old man to sit on. He instructed that the basket be filled with gold in exchange for the figs.
The Emperor's attendants were very surprised at the honor being paid the old Jew, until he related the story. "If the Creator saw fit to grant him such a long life," Hadrian admitted, "it must mean that he was worthy."
The old man returned home with much pomp and circumstance, and all his neighbors came out to greet him. When the wife of one of them saw the gold coins she became very jealous, and began to berate her husband. "You lazy good for nothing!" she scolded him. "Didn't you hear that the Emperor loves figs? This foolish old man brought only a small basket and it was filled with gold. Go to the Emperor and bring him an entire crate of figs! Surely he will fill it with priceless treasures." The husband agreed to make the trip. He arrived at the royal palace with his donkey struggling under the huge load.
The keepers of the gate didn't know what to do. A soldier was sent inside to inform the Emperor that a man had arrived with a whole case of figs, expecting to be paid handsomely.
The Emperor was furious. "Let the fool stand by the entrance of the palace," he ordered, "and he will be given a taste of his own figs. Whoever passes by must pick one up and throw it in his face!"
The Emperor's decree was obeyed. The unfortunate man was made to stand like a statue until nightfall, when the "ammunition" was exhausted. He returned home, his face red and swollen from pain and embarrassment.
To top it all off, his wife then berated him for failing in his mission. To which the husband suggested that the next time she came up with a brilliant plan, she should be the one to actually implement it. "I wish you had been there to share my wealth," he added.
"Well, there's one thing you should be grateful for," the wife conceded. "At least they were dried figs and not fresh citrons!"
