A man once wagered his friend four hundred zuzim that he could make Hillel the Elder lose his temper. Win and keep the money, lose and pay it out. The bet made him inventive.
It was Friday afternoon, the sky already dimming toward Shabbat, and Hillel was in the middle of washing himself for the holy day. The man strode up to his door and shouted, Where is Hillel? Where is Hillel? Hillel pulled a robe around his wet shoulders and came out. What do you want, my son?
I have a question. Why do the Babylonians have round heads? Hillel answered gently, A very important question, my son. Their midwives are not skilled. The man left. An hour later he was back at the door, shouting again. Out came Hillel, patient as before. Why are the people of Tadmor weak-eyed? Because they live in a sandy country. The man left. An hour later, again: Why are Africans flat-footed? Because they live in marshy land.
Finally the man said, I have more questions, but I am afraid to try your patience. Hillel sat down, drew his robe around him, and said, Ask every question you have. Are you Hillel, the one they call the prince of Israel? Yes. Then I hope there are not many more like you in Israel! Why? asked Hillel. Because on your account I just lost four hundred zuzim. I bet I could make you angry. Hillel answered with a smile, Be warned. Better you lose four hundred zuzim, and four hundred more on top of that, than that Hillel should lose his temper.
This passage from Shabbat 31a, preserved in Harris's 1901 Hebraic Literature, is the reason Hillel has been remembered for two thousand years as the patient sage. The wager was not really about money. It was a test of whether a man's composure could be bought. Hillel's could not, not for four hundred zuzim, not for any sum on earth.