Ashmedai, king of the demons, wanted to humiliate Solomon, whose wisdom was famous in every kingdom. So Ashmedai brought up from the netherworld a man with two heads, a living curiosity, and presented him to Solomon's court.
Solomon was astonished. So was Benayahu ben Yehoyada, the captain of his guard, who had been a skeptic about the existence of two-headed men. Solomon questioned the visitor. The man explained he was a descendant of Cain, exiled to a subterranean land called Tevel. In Tevel, he said, there is sun and moon and stars, but the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. The people sow and reap. They keep animals. They live.
When the man asked to be sent home, Ashmedai refused. It is impossible, he said, to return once brought up. So the two-headed man stayed. He settled in the upper world, married a woman, fathered seven sons. One of the sons was born with two heads like his father. The other six had only one.
Years later the two-headed man died. His sons gathered to divide the inheritance. The two-headed son claimed a double share, arguing he was really two people. The six one-headed brothers refused. They demanded that he receive only one share like everyone else. The case was brought before the Sanhedrin, the highest court of Israel.
The Sanhedrin could not decide. Is a man with two heads one person or two? It was a genuine question about the definition of a human soul. They escalated the case to Solomon himself.
Solomon prayed. The next morning he ordered hot water and strong wine brought into the courtroom. Then, in front of the assembly, he poured the scalding water on one of the two-headed man's heads while feeding the other head wine. Both heads howled in pain together. Both heads got drunk together. The man confessed that he had only one body, one nervous system, one soul. His two heads felt each other's pain because they were one person.
Solomon ruled: he receives one share, the same as his brothers. The seven sons divided the estate into seven equal parts.
This fantastical story from The Exempla of the Rabbis (Gaster, 1924), drawn from the Ben Attar collection, is Solomon's wisdom at its most characteristic. One scalding cup decides a question the high court could not. Two heads shared one hurt, and the hurt told the truth.