S. Agnon - A Book that Was Lost

I kept quiet and did not say a word. It was some years now that I hadn’t gone to a concert. I could never understand how a crowd of people could assemble at a fixed date and hour, in a special hall, just to hear some singing. Nor could I understand how it was that the singers were ready to lift up their voices in song at the exact hour the ticket holders were filling the hall, ready to listen.

I’m just a small-town boy; I can grasp that someone is singing because his heart is full; but this singing in front of an audience rich enough to buy tickets, because some impresario organized it all, was beyond me. So when I saw how much this man wanted to go to the concert, I asked myself whether I should help him, and decided to buy him a ticket. He saw what I was thinking, and said, “I won’t go without you.” I asked myself whether to go with him, and then I said, “All right, I’ll buy two tickets, and we’ll go together.” He started feeling the air, as if it were full of tickets. Again he rubbed two fingers together, and made a popping noise, like a cork coming out of a bottle.

So we walked together, and he kept praising the concert hall, where there was so much music one could almost drown in it. Then he told me about this violinist whose violin was so precious that even the case he carried it in was worth more than the instruments of other violinists. Then he returned to his son, to whom poetical rhymes came for the sole purpose of the matching of words. Then he returned to the subject of the tickets, out of respect for which the doors used to open themselves. Suddenly he began worrying, as it occurred to him that he could be wasting his time, for, although I seemed willing enough to buy him a ticket, what if every seat was sold out, or supposing there was only one single ticket left wouldn’t I buy it for myself, and leave him standing outside. Thus we came to my hotel.

I said to him: “Wait here, I’m going in to change, and then we’re off to the concert.” He poked his stick into the ground, leaned on it with both hands, and stood there.

I left him outside and told the doorman I wanted two tickets for the concert. The doorman said: “I have two good tickets, which were ordered by the Duke of Ilivio, but he left them with me, as he cannot come since he has been called to the Emperor.” Here the doorman whispered to me that the Emperor had arrived secretly in town, with most of his retinue, dukes, lords, and officers, and that some of them were actually staying at our hotel.

I took the tickets and went up to my room, leaving the door open so that I could change by the light in the corridor, and not have to turn on the light in the room, which would have awakened my wife. I walked in on tiptoe, noiselessly, and to my surprise and distress I found a strange man in the room. Who was that who dared to enter my room in the dark of the night? Should the earth refuse to open at his feet and swallow him, then I would be forced to throw him out myself, and not too politely, either.

As I approached him, I saw that it was Moshele, a relative of mine. This Moshele and I had grown up together, and we went through difficult times together, until one day he was caned up into the army, where he stayed until he was wounded and dismissed. We thought that he had been burned in the gas chambers of Auschwitz, but here he stood, alive, in my room.

I said, “What brought you here?” He said, “My troubles brought me here. I have been shuffling from one mound of refuse to another without a roof over my head, and when I heard you were here I came running, for I was sure that you would put me up.”

I said to him: “Do I have a home that you should ask to sleep here? As you can see, I’m myself but a guest for the night.”

He said: “All I’m asking is a place on the floor.”

I began laughing. A hotel where dukes and lords live, and he wants to sleep on the floor.

I don’t know if his brain succeeded in grasping what I meant and if his heart accepted my words. In any case, he got up and left.

I went to the window to watch him go, and I saw him in the street, cowering as he was hit by the whips of the coachmen who drove the coaches of the nobility. I called to him, but he didn’t answer me; I called to him again and he didn’t answer, probably being too busy trying to evade the whips to hear my voice. I decided to call louder, but then I remembered that my wife was sleeping, so I didn’t. And it is probably just as well, for, had I shouted, all the other coachmen would have seen him too, and joined in beating him.

I looked after Moshele until he disappeared from view. Then I went to the wardrobe to change. Two small children came in and started walking around me in circles. As I opened the door of the wardrobe to take some clothes, one of them jumped in, and his brother jumped after him, and they shut the wardrobe door behind them. I was somewhat perplexed; as they were probably the sons of a duke or a lord, I couldn’t very well be rude to them. On the other hand, I couldn’t let them go on playing, as they were liable to wake my wife.

Their governess came and helped me out of this trouble. She said to them: “If I may be so bold as to say, it behooves not the princes to enter the room of a strange person.”

I apologized to the governess for having left the door of my room open and caused the two king’s sons to enter my room. I added that I was going to the concert and had only come to dress.

The governess examined my clothes with her eyes and said: “You can’t show yourself in that collar you’re wearing.” I said to her: “Yes, you’re quite right.” She said: “Surely, you can find another collar.” “Probably,” I said. She said: “Go on, put it on.” I said to her: “I am afraid that when the king’s son did me the honor of jumping into my wardrobe, he trampled on my collars, and they got soiled.” She said: “In that case, I’ll tie your tie. Your gracious highnesses, would you be so kind as to leave the room until I finish tying the tie of this gentleman, who is the brother of your teacher.” The little boys stood there and looked very surprised that this creature, which had been created to serve them, should now wish to serve a simple mortal.

The graciousness of the young lady and the envy of the king’s sons put me into a much better mood. I stuttered somewhat and said: “It is not my custom to go to concerts, but what is a custom worth if you’re not ready to disregard it for the sake of another person.” The young lady didn’t pay much attention to my words; she was too busy tying and then untying every knot she tied, saying, “It wasn’t such a knot I meant to tie, now I shall tie one that is much handsomer.” Finally, she stroked my arm and said: “Look in the mirror and see how beautifully tied your tie is.” I said to her: “I cannot look in the mirror.” “Why?” “Because the mirror is screwed onto the inside of the wardrobe door, and if I opened it wide it would squeak and wake my wife.” “Your wife?” screamed the young lady in a rage. “And here you were talking to me as if we were alone in the room. If your wife is here, then go and be happy with her.” With that the young lady went away.

“Who were you talking to,” asked my wife. I said to her: “No one.” She said: “I must have been dreaming.” I said to her: “Dream or not, I’m going out for a walk, and won’t be back till after midnight.”

I went looking for the man who was waiting for me in front of the hotel, but he was nowhere to be seen. I asked the doorman about him; he answered: “Some time ago I did see a person loitering in front of the hotel. Had I known he was a friend of yours, sir, I would have looked at him more carefully.” I said to the doorman: “Where could he be now?” “Where? I really don’t know.” “Which way did he go?” “Well,” said the doorman, “I seem to remember that he turned right, or maybe it was left, people like these have round shoulders and one never knows quite which way they turn.” I gave him a tip. He bowed low and said: “If your excellency would care to listen to my advice, he would visit the servants’ quarters in the hotel, as the serfs of the nobles have brought a Jewish clown with them, and it is quite possible that the man your excellency is looking for has gone there to see the fun.”