> As recounted by the worthy men of faith (but God knows more), in the 
earliest days there was a king of the isles of Babylon who gathered 
together his architects and mages and commanded them to build a 
labyrinth so perplexing and subtle that the most prudent men would not 
dare to enter it, and those who did enter would be lost. That work was a 
scandal, for confusion and wonder are attributes peculiar to God, not to 
men. Over time there came to his court a king of the Arabs, and the king 
of Babylon (to make a fool of the simplicity of his guest) forced the 
Arabian King to enter the labyrinth, where he wandered offended and 
confused until evening fell. Then he implored divine aid and came across 
the door. His lips proffered no complaint, but the Arabian king told the 
king of Babylon how in Arabia, he had another labyrinth, and if God was 
served, that the Babyonian king would one day come to make its 
acquaintance. Then he returned to Arabia, collected his captains and 
wardens, and despoiled the kingdoms of Babylon with such good fortune 
that he cast down their castles, broke their peoples, and took prisoner 
the very king of Babylon himself. The king of Arabia tied his captive to 
a swift camel and carried him off into the desert. They rode for three 
days, then the King of Arabia announced: O king of time and substance 
and paragon of the age! In Babylon you wanted to lose me in a 
labyrinth of bronze with many staircases, doors, and walls; now the 
Almighty has seen fit that I should show you mine, where there are no 
staircases to ascend, nor doors to force, nor wearisome galleries to 
traverse, nor walls to deny your passage.

Then he untied his captive’’s 
bindings and abandoned him in the middle of the desert, where the King 
of Babylon died of hunger and of thirst. Glory be with That which does 
not die.