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

How I love the rural townships during the summer months. The market is hushed, a town and its inhabitants, a pot with flowers that peer out and no one to admire them. Her sons are in hiding, the sun has driven them into their homes, and I walk solitary in a peaceful land. I am a student at the university and God has led me forth to one of the towns. As I stood in the street I saw a woman standing by a window and she placed a bowl of millet on its sunlit sill. I bowed to her and said, “Won’t the birds feast on your millet?” I had barely finished my sentence when a young girl appeared at the window and she stared at me and mocked my words. I was nearly put to shame and lest the young girl sense my confusion I said to her, “May I have some water please?” The young girl then offered me a glass of water from the window. “Why have you not asked the man in to take a rest?” the woman said to the girl. “Does he not live in foreign parts?” And she said, “Come in, sir, come in.” And I turned and entered the house.

The household appeared prosperous and a man in his prime sat over a volume of Talmud. He had dozed off over his books and he now awoke and greeted me and asked, “Who are you and what brings you to our town?” I returned his greeting and replied, “I am a student and have come to see the countryside during my vacation.” They were struck with wonder at my words. “Look now and see for yourself,” the man said to the girl. “The learned come from afar to admire our town, and all you ask is to leave us and our town. Now you can banish that thought.” The young girl listened and remained silent. Her father asked me, “So you are studying medicine, you wish to become a doctor?” “No, sir,” I replied, “I am studying philosophy.” The man was surprised to hear this and said, “I always said philosophy wasn’t to be learned in school, for the true philosopher is the man who broods over scholarly tomes and fathoms their meaning.”

The day waned and the man told the girl, “Bring me my sash and I will recite the minhah. Don’t feel embarrassed at my reciting the afternoon prayer.” “I too will pray,” I exclaimed. “Bring me the prayerbook,” he said. She then hurried to fetch the prayerbook. And he took the prayerbook and showed me the passage we would read. “Sir,” I said, “there is really no need, I know the prayer well.” The man was surprised to hear that I knew the prayer by heart. He gestured toward the east where an embroidery hung on the wall, and I read all that was embroidered on the mizrah :

Blessed is he who shall not forsake Thee

And he who shall cleave unto Thee.

For those who seek Thee shall not fail

Nor shall they be put to shame

Those who seek and dwell within Thee.

As soon as I had finished praying I extolled the mizrah , for indeed it was splendid. My words, though, were like the sun’s dying rays at dusk, illuminating only the fringes of the east, while the whole is left in darkness, for I could utter but a fraction of the praise that swelled within me.

The woman set the table and bid me share their meal. The dishes were placed before us and we ate. Although the food was not abundant, consisting of just cornmeal with milk, we nevertheless lingered over our food as the man spoke of all that had happened to them, for he had once been wealthy, trading with the landed gentry and investing his money in field crops. Such was his way year after year. But riches are not everlasting. The owner of the estate did not keep to his end of the agreement. Money he took but produce he did not give. A bitter and prolonged quarrel ensued between the two men and what remained of the fruits of his labor was frittered away in legal fees. Though bribing is a criminal offence and it is forbidden to bribe a state judge — and even the gentile is subject to the laws of the land — the overlord offered the judge gifts so that the verdict would not go against him. “Eternity may well come to an end,” he said, “and still I wouldbe far from ending my account of all that came to pass in those days. My adversary slandered me with false accusations and my eldest son, though disabled and exempt from serving the Emperor, was pressed into the army, and the same overlord was a high-ranking officer and my son died under the crush of his iron fist.”

“But a man should not mourn the loss of imaginary possessions, blessed be the Holy Name for He has not taken His merciful eye from us. Even though the Almighty has not blessed me a second time with wealth and happiness, I thank the Lord daily, for we are not lacking in food. And yet whenever I call to mind the inflictions wrought upon my son, I am tempted to choose death over life.”

The members of the household dried their tears and the woman asked her husband, “If he were alive today, how old would he be?” “What sort of woman-talk is this?” he answered. “Do not lay reproach on the Almighty; the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh, blessed be the name of the Lord. How splendid are the words of Malbim, blessed be his memory, concerning the verse, “ he shall shave his head over the loss of property” — for it is forbidden to do so over the dead .

The oil in the lamp was nearly spent and I rose from the table and asked, “Tell me please, is there an inn in town, for I will not be able to continue on my way tonight.” The man and woman conferred and said, “There are a number of inns but who knows if you will find comfort in any one of them. Ours is a small town and the inns are of the plainest sort, for respectable guests seldom come here and anyone who isn’t accustomed to such conditions will not find such inns very restful.” The man glanced at his wife and said, “A stranger shall not sleep outside. I will open my door to a guest.”

The young girl then brought a candle and lit it and placed it on the table as the oil in the lamp was spent. We sat together for another hour. They did not tire of hearing about the wonders of Vienna where the Emperor lives. I felt deeply drawn to their way of life. Later that evening they prepared a bed for me in a corner of the house and I fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.

And I started awake at the sound of a man’s footsteps. The master of the house stood by my bed, his prayer shawl and phylacteries under his arm and the Morning Prayer on his lips. “Ah, sir,” I cried out, “you are on your way to pray while I lie in the lap of indolence.” The man smiled. “I have already prayed,” he said. “I am on my way back from the synagogue, but be at ease, my son.” And seeing my discomfort, he added, “If you have slept soundly then lie back and rest; the time will come soon enough when there will be no sleep. But if you are awake then rise and we will breakfast together.” After eating I made to pay for my food. The woman and her daughter drew back in shame and the man smiled and said, “Such are the ways of the city dweller, they do not know that an act of charity is honored and that it is a sacred duty to invite a guest into one’s home.” I thanked them for letting me stay in their home for the entire night and morning. “Blessed are you in the eyes of the Lord for your kindness,” I exclaimed. And as I turned to leave, the man inquired, “Where will you be going?” “I will walk the length and breadth of the town,” I answered, “for that is why I have come.” “Go then in peace,” said the man. “But return to eat with us at noon.” “I am unworthy of such kindness,” I said. And I walked into town. Presently I arrived at the Great Synagogue which housed a rare prayerbook whose gilt letters were inscribed on deerskin parchment. But the gold was obscured by a film of smoke that had risen from those martyred in the name of the Holy One and had seeped through and blackened the pages. And I walked over to the Beit Midrash . The sun’s rays beat against its walls. The pupils, seated before the altar, had removed their coats and were surprised to see me. They implored me to speak of other houses of learning, and visions of distant places lit up their eyes. And I left the House of Study and turned towards the forest. I was overwhelmed with grief as I approached the green and somber woods. And I fell to my knees and lay amid the scrub by the oak trees. The Lord’s mercy did not leave me. Suddenly I remembered the invitation extended to me to share the mid-day meal and I rose and returned home.