“I will persist until I succeed. I was not delivered into this world into defeat, nor does failure course in my veins. I am not a sheep waiting to be prodded by my shepherd. I am a lion and I refuse to talk, to walk, to sleep with the sheep. The slaughterhouse of failure is not my destiny. I will persist until I succeed.” What you are today is not important ... for in this runaway bestseller you will learn how to change your life by applying the secrets you are about to discover in the ancient scrolls.
Chapter One
Hafid lingered before the bronze mirror and studied his reflected image in the polished metal.
“Only the eyes have retained their youth,” he murmured as he turned away and moved slowly across the spacious marble floor. He passed between black onyx columns rising to support ceilings burnished with silver and gold and his aging legs carried him past tables carved from cyprus and ivory.
Tortoise shell gleamed from couches and divans and the walls, inlaid with gems, shimmered with brocades of the most painstaking design. Huge palms grew placidly in bronze vessels framing a fountain of alabaster nymphs while flower boxes, encrusted with gems, competed with their contents for attention. No visitor to Hafid’s palace could doubt that he was, indeed, a person of great wealth.
“The old man passed through an enclosed garden and entered his warehouse which extended beyond the mansion for five hundred paces. Erasmus, his chief bookkeeper, waited uncertainly just beyond the entryway.
“Greetings, sire.”
Hafid nodded and continued on in silence. Erasmus followed, his face unable to disguise concern at the master’s unusual request for a meeting in this place. Near the loading platforms Hafid paused to watch goods being removed from baggage wagons and counted into separate stalls.
There were wools, fine linens, parchment, honey, carpets, and oil from Asia Minor; glass, figs, nuts, and balsam from his own country; textiles and drugs from Palmyra; ginger, cinnamon, and precious stones from Arabia; corn, paper, granite, alabaster, and basalt from Egypt; tapestries from Babylon; paintings from Rome; and statues from Greece. The smell of balsam was heavy in the air and Hafid’s sensitive old nose detected the presence of sweet plums, apples, cheese, and ginger.
“The bookkeeper’s mouth opened but no sound came forth. He fell back as if struck and when finally he could speak, the words came with effort.”
Finally he turned to Erasmus. “Old friend, how much wealth is there now accumulated in our treasury?”
Erasmus paled, “Everything, master?”
“Everything.”
“I have not studied the numbers recently but I would estimate there is in excess of seven million gold talents.”
“And were all the goods in all my warehouses and emporiums converted into gold, how much would they bring?”
“Our inventory is not yet complete for this season, sire, but I would calculate a minimum of another three million talents.”
Hafid nodded, “Purchase no more goods. Institute immediately whatever plans are required to sell everything that is mine and convert all of it to gold.”
The bookkeeper’s mouth opened but no sound came forth. He fell back as if struck and when finally he could speak, the words came with effort.
“I do not understand, sire. This has been our most profitable year. Every emporium reports an increase in sales over the previous season. Even the Roman legions are now our customers for did you not sell the Procurator in Jerusalem two hundred Arabian stallions within the fortnight? Forgive my boldness for seldom have I questioned your orders but this command I cannot comprehend.…”
Hafid smiled and gently grasped Erasmus’ hand.
“My trusted comrade, is your memory of sufficient strength to recall the first command you received from me when you entered my employ many years ago?”
Erasmus frowned momentarily and then his face brightened. “I was enjoined by you to remove, each year, half the profit from our treasury and dispense it to the poor.”
“Did you not, at that time, consider me a foolish man of business?”
“I had great forebodings, sire.”
“Hafid nodded and spread his arms toward the loading platforms. “Will you now admit that your concern was without ground?”
“Yes, sire.”
Extracted from The Greatest Salesman in the World by Og Mandino, out now.
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