On the Eighth day – chapter 4; verses 12 – 14

And so Hollandé did returnith from the weekly council of rulers, his pleadings to the queen of Germanicus to further open her kingdom’s coffers penetrating not her horne’d helmet nor her stone heart. The messiah thus visited upon his alchemists and forgers of coin and his demands were such as to make them tremble.  And they did retreat from his rage to the corners of their dungeon, the tar torches adorning the walls reflecting with terrible majesty in their master’s dark rimme’d spectacles. But amongst the brethren was one with heart enough to speak out. ‘Lord’ said he, his eyes cast to the floor ‘we have no silver from which to cast more coin – but you have’st not the need to maketh more talents – cast thine eyes to the north, to Britiannicus – for ‘tis said that britian’s got talents’

And upon the Messiah’s face did burst a smile of such radiance as to light the dungeon like the sun (though it was later agreed amongst those that so witnesse’d that it was yet more terrible than his ire). ‘You are but a humble minion’ said the chosen one ‘but thine idea is inspired – I shall send a messenger forthwith to the Dark Lord Cowell - for ‘tis certain that with his legions of dancing dogs and hip hop dancers, he can’eth draw such audiences as to fill our chests with gold’.
And with bravery of such magnitude as to humble his fellow serfs did the alchemist disagree. ‘Master’ said he ‘’twas not exactly what I had envisaged. More, my lord, that the Britons should tithe unto thee that which your devoted subjects so do whence they divest themselves of their holiday castles’.

And the messiah did so take the alchemist’s advice, elevate him to chief Fakir and thence retire to his chambers, comforted by the promise of such riches. That his decree would garner aught but a handful of copper coin was of no import, for he had spoken and his word was law.

So endeth the lesson.