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

And did you not mention her yourself? Nowadays people don’t know Tilli; but there was a time when everyone did, for then she was a great, rich woman with all kinds of business concerns. And when she gave up all these and came to Jerusalem, she brought along with her I can’t say how many barrels of gold, or if not barrels, there is no doubt that she brought a chest full of gold. My neighbors remember their mothers telling them, how, when Tilli came to Jerusalem, all the best people here came a-courting, either for themselves or for their sons. But she sent them packing and stayed a widow. At first she was a very wealthy widow, and then quite a well-to-do widow, until at last she became just any old woman.

Judging from Tilli’s appearance, said I, one would think that she had never seen hard times in her life.

The rabbanit replied with scorn: You say that she has never seen hard times in her life: and I say that she has never seen good times in her life. There is no enemy of mine whom I would “bless” with the afflictions that Tilli has borne. You suppose that, because she is not reduced to living off the public funds, she has enjoyed a happy life: and I believe that there is not a beggar knocking on the doors who would exchange his sorrows for hers. — Oh, my aches and my pains! I try to forget them, but they will not forget me.

I perceived that the rabbanit knew more than she cared to disclose. Since I felt that no good would come of further questioning, I showed myself ready to leave by rising from my chair.

Said the rabbanit: “ The sweep hadn’t stepped into the chimney, but his face was already black.” You have scarcely sat down in your chair, and already you are up and away. Why all this haste?

I said: If you wish me to stay, I will stay. She made no answer; so I began speaking of Tilli again, and asked if I might be told her story.

And if I tell you, said the rabbanit , will it benefit you, or benefit her? I have no liking for tale-bearers: they spin out their cobwebs, and call it fine tapestry. I will only say this, that the Lord did a mercy to that good man when He put the evil spirit into that apostate, may her name be blotted out. Why are you gaping at me? Don’t you understand the meaning of simple Yiddish?

I understand Yiddish quite well, said I, but I cannot understand what you are talking about, rabbanit. Who is the good man, and who is the apostate you have cursed?

Perhaps I should bless her then, perhaps, I should say, “Well done, Mistress Apostate, you who have traded a gold coin for a brass farthing.” See, again you are staring at me as if I talked Turkish. You have heard that my husband of blessed memory was a rabbi, wherefore they call me rabbanit; and have you not heard that my father too was a rabbi? Such a rabbi, that in comparison with him, all other rabbis might rank as mere schoolboys: and I speak of real rabbis, look you, not of those who wear the mantle and give themselves airs. — What a world, what a world it is! A deceitful world, and all it contains is deceit and vanity. — But my father, of blessed and pious memory, was a rabbi from his childhood, and all the matchmakers in the province bustled about to find him a wife. Now there was a certain rich widow, and when I say rich, you know that I mean it. This widow had only one daughter — would she had never been born. She took a barrel full of gold coins, and said to the matchmakers: “If you match that man to my daughter, this barrel full of gold will be his; and if it is not sufficient, I shall add to it!” But her daughter was not a fit match for that holy man; for she was already tainted with the spirit of heresy, as is shown by her latter end, and she fled away from her home, and entered the house of the nuns, and deserted her faith. Yes, at the very hour when she was to be wed, she ran away. That poor stricken mother wasted half her fortune in efforts to reclaim her. Her appeal went up to the Emperor himself; and even the Emperor was powerless to help. For anyone who enters a nunnery can never leave. You know now who that apostate was? The daughter of … hush, here she comes.

Tilli entered the room. She was carrying a bowl of soup, and seeing me she said:

Ah, you are still here! But stay, my friend, stay. It is a great mitzva to visit the sick. Rabbanit , how much better you look! Truly salvation comes in the wink of an eye; for God is healing you every minute. I have brought a little soup to moisten your lips: now, my dear, raise your head and I shall prop up your pillow. There, my dear, that is right. My son, I am sorry that you do not live in the City, for then you would see for yourself how the rabbanit’s health is improving day by day.

And do I not live in Jerusalem? I said. Surely Nahalat Shiva is Jerusalem?

It is indeed, answered Tilli. God forbid that it should be otherwise. Rather may the day come when Jerusalem extends as far as Damascus, and in every direction. But the eye that has seen all Jerusalem enclosed within her walls cannot get accustomed to viewing what is built beyond the walls of the City itself. It is true that all the Land of Israel is holy, and I need hardly say, the surroundings of Jerusalem: yet the holiness that is within the walls of the City surpasses all else. My son, there is nothing I have said which you do not know better than I. Why then have I said it? Only that I might speak the praise of Jerusalem.

I could read in the eyes of the rabbanit a certain resentment, because Tilli was speaking to me rather than to her. So I took my leave and went away.

Various preoccupations kept me for a while from going to the City; and after that came the nuisance of the tourists. How well we know these tourists, who descend upon us and upon the land, all because the Holy One has made a little space for us here! They come, now, to see what has happened; and having come, they regard us as if we were created solely to serve them. Yet one good thing may be said for the tourists: in showing them “the sights,” we see them ourselves. Once or twice, having brought them to the City to show them the Western Wall, I met Tilli there. It seemed to me that a change had come over her. Although she had always walked without support, I noticed that she now leaned on a stick. On account of the visitors, I was unable to linger. For they had come to spy out the whole land, not to spend time upon an old woman not even mentioned in their itineraries.

When the tourists had left Jerusalem, I felt restless with myself. After trying without success to resume work, I bestirred myself and walked to the City, where I visited of my own accord all the places I had shown to the visitors. How can I describe what I saw? He who in His goodness daily renews the works of creation, perpetually renews His own City. New houses may not have been built, or new trees planted; yet Jerusalem herself is ever new. I cannot explain the secret of her infinite variety. We must wait, all of us, for those great sages who will one day enlighten us.

I came upon the man of learning whom you already know, and he drew me to his house, where he set before me all his recent findings. We sat together as long as we sat, while I asked questions, and he replied; or raised problems, which he resolved; or mentioned cloudy matters, which he made clear. How good it is, how satisfying, to sit at the feet of one of the scholars of Jerusalem, and to learn the Law from his lips! His home is simple, his furnishings austere, yet his wisdom ranges far, like the great hill ranges of Jerusalem which are seen from the windows. Bare are the hills of Jerusalem; no temples or palaces crown them. Since the time of our exile, nation after nation has come and laid them waste. But the hills spread their glory like banners to the sky; they are resplendent in ever-changing hues; and not least in glory is the Mount of Olives, which bears no forest of trees, but a forest of tombs of the righteous, who in life and in death gave their thoughts to the Land.