S. Agnon - Two Scholars Who Were in our Town and other Novellas

The greater part of Adar had already passed. The clouds which had been obscuring the sun’s course began to shrink, while the sun grew gradually larger. What only yesterday had been the time for the Evening Prayer became the time for Afternoon Prayer today; while yesterday’s getting-up time became the time to start saying the Morning Prayer today.

The snow warmed up and began to melt, and the trees of the field grew black. One day they were black as earth; the next, they would be putting forth leaves and blossoming like the Lebanon. The pools and marshes were covered by a film, and the birds began to chirp. Every day a different kind of bird would come around and there began a cheeping on every roof. Our men of good heart started going out and asking when the road would be fit for travel; they meant the month, of course, when the road would be fit for wayfarers.

Never in all their lives had these good folk so feared death as at that particular period. How great is the sanctity of the Land of Israel though it be in ruins! And what is the body’s strength even at its height? For after all, suppose a man wishes to go up to the Land of Israel and does not go up, what if his soul should suddenly depart from his body and he be left lying like a dumb stone without having gone up; what would become of all his hopes?

Those who knew enough to study the Bible sat and studied the Bible; those who knew enough to study the Mishnah sat and studied the Mishnah in order to strengthen their hearts with the study of the Torah. Throughout those days neither the sun nor the moon ever saw a single one of them sitting idle. Although they were busy selling their houses and casting up their money accounts, they nevertheless crowned their days with Torah and prayer.

The Passover festival came to an end. The sun pitched its camp in the sky, and all the water in the swamps and marshes dried up. Even the big swamps had no water in them. The roads fairly asked to be put to use, and the wagoners set out on their ways. Horses began posting from one end of the world to the other, their bells jingling as they went; and the wagoners tugged at the reins and shouted, Geeup! Whoa there!

Those who were to go up to the Land gathered together at their House of Study. In came old Rabbi Shelomo, a well-disposed kohen who had dealt in commerce all his life, but had finally given up the estates of this world and set his heart on going up to the Land of Israel. Rabbi Shelomo used to say, If a king is angry with his servants they ought never to go far away from him. Instead, let them stand at the king’s gate and lament their misfortune until he sees their distress and takes pity on them.

And then in came Rabbi Alter, the slaughterer-and-inspector, who had handed over his butcher’s knife to his son-in-law; and together with him came Rabbi Alter the teacher, who was his brother-in-law’s son and who had spent all his days in the tent of the Torah, studying keenly and casuistically with his students. Once while he sat studying in the tractate Ketuvot about marriage contracts, it occurred to him that after all the Land of Israel is a marriage contract between Israel and the Holy One, blessed be he; and it is an accepted principle that a man must never be without his marriage contract. Whereupon he felt that as long as he continued to dwell outside the Land he would have no rest. So he ceased his studies, and dispersed his students, and sold his house and his set of the Talmud and the commentary of Alfasi, and went and inscribed himself in the list of those who were going up to the Land.

And in came Rabbi Pesach, the warden of the House of Study, who was going to the Land with his wife Tzirel, for their benefit and advantage in the hope that the merits of the Land of Israel might give them the merit of children.

And in came Rabbi Yosef Meir, who had divorced his wife because she refused to go up to the Land of Israel. Her father had sent to him, saying, If you wish to take back my daughter and dwell with her in Buczacz as before, I shall double her dowry.

Said Rabbi Yosef Meir, I have already contracted with another bride and I cannot shame her.

And in came Rabbi Moshe, the brother of Rabbi Gershon, may he rest in peace, the same Rabbi Gershon whose soul departed while he was reciting the verse, ‘The King hath brought me into his chambers,’ as is told elsewhere in my story, ‘The Rejected One.’ For love of the Land of Israel Rabbi Moshe was leaving his two daughters behind and had inscribed his name and that of his wife in the register among those who were going up to the Land.

And in came Rabbi Yehudah Mendel, one of the last of the followers of Rabbi Uriel, whose soul is treasured on high. As long as Rabbi Uriel had been alive, a bond had extended all the way to his home from the Land of Israel. Once he passed away, nothing in the whole world had any value for Rabbi Yehudah Mendel until God put it in his heart to go up to the Land of Israel.

Then in came someone else whose name we have forgotten.

And in came Leibush the butcher, whom the Land of Israel afterwards spewed forth because he spoke in its disfavor, saying, Have you ever seen a country where you can find nothing but mutton?

And in came Rabbi Shmuel Yosef, the son of Rabbi Shalom Mordekhai ha-Levi of blessed memory, who was versed in the legends of the Land of Israel, those legends in which the name of the Holy One, blessed be he, is hallowed; and when he commenced lauding the Land, people could see as it were the name of the living God engraved on the tip of his tongue.

And when they all came together, Hananiah stood at the entrance, holding in his hand the kerchief containing his prayer shawl and phylacteries and other baggage, like a man who is prepared to set off at once.

The women stood in the Women’s Section, while the men were sitting in the House of Study. There was Mistress Milka the coral-seller, who had entered into a second marriage on condition that her husband go up to the Land of Israel with her, and who had received a divorce from him because he would not go; and near her Feiga, her kinswoman, the widow of Rabbi Yudel of Stryi, may he rest in peace, a descendant of gentry and trustees who used to send money to the poor of the Land of Israel; and near her Hinda, the wife of Rabbi Alter the slaughterer; and near her Tzirel, the wife of Rabbi Pesach the warden; and near her Esther, the wife of Rabbi Shmuel Yosef, the son of Shalom Mordekhai ha-Levi; and near her Sarah, the wife of Rabbi Moshe, grandson of Rabbi Avigdor the communal president, of blessed memory; and near her Pessel, the daughter of Rabbi Shelomo ha-Kohen, who had just been widowed at that time and joined her father on the journey in order to bear her suffering in the Land of Israel.

Then up rose Rabbi Shelomo ha-Kohen to his feet, and set his two hands on the table, and bowed his head, and said to them, Why do you wish to go up to the Land of Israel? Surely you know that many sufferings come upon wayfarers besides their being pressed for food, and they fear evil beasts and robbers, particularly upon the sea.

To this our men of good heart responded, saying, We are not afraid. If we are deserving in His eyes, may he be blessed, he will fetch us to the Land of Israel; and if we are not deserving (God forfend!), then we are deserving of all the troubles that may befall us.

What Rabbi Shelomo said to the men he said to the women as well, and as the men answered so answered they.

Whereupon Rabbi Shelomo said, Happy are ye who cleave to the Land of Israel, for the Land of Israel was created only for Israel, and none can remain in the Land of Israel save Israel. All the things I said, I said only in order to increase your reward.

Thereupon Rabbi Alter the slaughterer put his hand on the shoulder of Rabbi Alter the teacher, and Rabbi Alter the teacher put his hand on the shoulder of Rabbi Alter the slaughterer, and they began dancing and singing: