"He writes as a siege-engine talks--without quarter." Costobarus nodded.
"So I am giving him two hundred talents," he said deliberately.
"Two hundred talents!" Philip echoed.
"And I summoned thee, Philip, to say that in addition to my house and its goods, thou canst have my shipping, my trade, my caravans, which thou hast coveted so long at a price--at that price.

I shall give Laodice two hundred talents." "Two hundred talents!" Philip echoed again, somewhat taken aback.
Costobarus went to a cabinet on the wall and drew forth a shittim-wood case which he unlocked.

Therefrom he took a small casket and opened it.

He then held it so that the sun, falling into it, set fire to a bed of loose gems mingled without care for kind or value--a heap of glowing color emitting sparks.
"Here are one hundred of the talents," Costobarus said.
A flash of understanding lighted Philip's face not unmingled with the satisfaction of a shrewd Jew who has pleased himself at business.

One hundred talents, then, for the best establishment in five cities, in all the Philistine country.