Tevye the Dairyman & Motl the Cantor's Son
Page 15
The bright spring holiday of Shevuos arrived. I don’t need to tell you how lovely, green, and warm my farm becomes at Shevuos. The richest man in town would wish for such blue skies, such green woods fragrant with pines, and such delicious pasture grass for the cows, which stand and chew and look right into your eyes as if to say, “Always give us grass like this, and we won’t hold back any milk!” No, say what you will, I wouldn’t trade it for the best livelihood in the city. Where in the city do you have this sky? How do we say in the Hallel: The heavens are the Lord’s—it is a God-given sky! In the city if you raise your head, what do you see? A brick wall, a roof, a chimney—but where is there a tree?
When my guests came to my farm for Shevuos, they could not get over it. Four young fellows came on horseback, one behind the other. And Ahronchik, I tell you, sat on an Arabian steed! You couldn’t buy that horse for three hundred rubles!
“Welcome, guests!” I said to them. “I see that in honor of Holy Shevuos you’ve come riding on horseback? That’s all right. Tevye is not one of the pious ones either, and if you are punished for it in the world to come, it won’t hurt me. Ay, Golde! Get the blintzes ready, and let’s carry the table outside. I have nothing to show my guests in the house.”
“Shprintze! Teibl! Beilke! Where are you? Move faster!” I ordered my daughters, who brought out a table with benches, a tablecloth, platters, spoons, forks, and salt. Right after that came Golde with the blintzes, piping hot, steaming, straight from the frying pan, delicious, plump, and sweet as honey! My guests could not praise the blintzes enough.
“Why are you standing there?” I said to Golde, “Go on, say the verse again. Today is Shevuos, and you have to repeat the prayer to welcome the guests.” And my Golde said it, then filled the serving dish again, and Shprintze brought the blintzes to the table. I noticed that this Ahronchik was staring at my Shprintze, not taking his eyes off her! What did he see in her? “Eat,” I said to him. “Why don’t you eat?”
“What do you think I am doing?” he said.
“You’re looking at my Shprintze,” I said. Everyone laughed, and my Shprintze laughed as well. They were all happy, all enjoying themselves. It was a happy Shevuos for all! How could I have guessed that this happiness would turn into great sorrow and torment, that God would wreak punishment on my head, darkening and devastating my life?
A man is a fool! An intelligent man must not allow things to touch his heart and must understand that the way it is, is the way it’s supposed to be, because if it had to be otherwise, it wouldn’t be the way it is! Don’t we say in the Psalms, Put your trust in God? Trust in God, and He will make it so that you lie nine cubits deep in the earth baking bagels in the netherworld, and still you must say, this too is for the best! Listen to what can happen in the world, but listen with understanding, because here is where the real story begins.
And it was evening and it was day. One night I came home exhausted from a day of running from dacha to dacha in Boiberik. Outside my house I found hitched to the door a familiar-looking horse that I could have sworn was Ahronchik’s Arabian, the one I had admired and valued at three hundred rubles. I went up and slapped the horse’s flank with one hand and with the other scratched his neck and ruffled his mane. “Here, my good fellow,” I said to him, “my handsome fellow! What are you doing here?” He turned his fine head to me and looked at me with intelligent eyes, as if to say, “Why are you asking me? Ask my master.”
I went into the house. “Tell me, dearest Golde, what is Ahronchik doing here?” I asked.
“How should I know? He’s one of your friends,” she said.
“Where is he?”
“He went with the children for a stroll in the woods.”
“A stroll? Out of the clear blue sky? Why?” I asked my wife to bring me food. Having finished eating, I wondered why I was so worked up. If a person came to visit, did I really have to be in such a huff? On the contrary.
Just then I looked up. My girls were walking with the young man, carrying bouquets of flowers. First came the two younger ones, Teibl and Beilke, and behind them, my Shprintze with Ahronchik.
“Good evening!”
Ahronchik was standing in a peculiar way, stroking his horse, chewing a blade of grass. Then he declared, “Reb Tevye! I want to do some business with you. Let’s trade horses.”
“You haven’t found anyone else to make fun of?” I said.
“No, I am very serious,” he said.
“You are really serious? How much did your horse cost?”
“How much,” he said, “do you think he’s worth?”
“I’m afraid he’s worth three hundred rubles and maybe a bit more.”
He burst out laughing and said the horse cost more than three times as much. “So? Are we making a trade?” he said.
I didn’t like the way this conversation was going. What did he mean, he would trade his steed for my shlimazel! I told him to put it off for another time. Was that the reason he had come here? I asked him jokingly. If so, it was a wasted trip.
He answered me in all seriousness. “I came here, actually, for another reason. Be so kind as to take a little stroll with me.”
What kind of stroll did he have in mind? I wondered, but went along with him to the woods. The sun had long ago set, the green woods were darkening, the frogs from the pond were croaking, and the grass was deliciously fragrant. Ahronchik walked and I walked; he was silent and I was silent. Then he stopped and cleared his throat. “Reb Tevye! What would you say if I told you that I love your Shprintze and want to take her as my wife?”
“What would I say?” I said. “I’d say you could take the place of a madman without anyone noticing.”
“What do you mean?” He stared at me.
“I mean what I said!”
“I don’t understand you.”
“That’s a sign,” I said, “that you aren’t terribly bright. As it is written: The wise man hath eyes in his head—a smart man understands with a wink, but a fool needs a stick.”
“I’m speaking very plainly to you and you answer me with jokes and quotations!” He was angry.
“Every cantor sings the way he can,” I said, “and every preacher preaches his own way. If you want to know what kind of preacher you are, talk it over beforehand with your mother. She will straighten you out.”
“Do you consider me a child who has to ask his mother?”
“Certainly you have to ask your mother, and your mother will surely tell you that you’re an idiot, and she will be right,” I said.
“She’ll be right?”
“Definitely. She will be right because what kind of husband are you for my Shprintze? How is she your equal? And most important,” I said, “what have I to do with your mother?”
“If that’s the case, Reb Tevye, you have made a grave error! I am not a boy of eighteen and am not seeking in-laws for my mother. I know who you are, and I know who your daughter is. I like her, and that’s the way I want it, and that’s the way it will be!”
“Forgive me,” I said. “I see you have taken care of one side of the family. Have you settled with the other side?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I mean my daughter Shprintze,” I said. “Have you talked this over with her, and what does she have to say about it?”
He looked insulted but gave a little smile. “What kind of question is that? Of course I’ve talked to her about it, and more than once—several times. I come here every day.”
Do you hear that? He comes every day, and I don’t know about it! I’m an ass, not a man! I should be given straw to chew! If that’s the way I let myself be led by the nose, I will be bought and sold! I’m a horse’s ass!
That was what I was thinking as I entered the house with Ahronchik. He said goodbye to my family, jumped on his horse, and rode off to Boiberik.
Now we will, as you say in your books, leave the prince and follow the princess, Shprintze. “Answer me something, my daughter,
” I said. “What has this Ahronchik discussed with you of such importance without my knowing about it?”
Does a tree answer? She blushed, lowered her eyes like a bride, swallowed a full mouthful of water, and—silence!
Bah! I thought to myself. If you don’t want to talk now, you’ll talk to me a little later. Tevye is not a woman. He has time! I waited awhile and watched for the moment when we would be alone. Then I said to her, “Shprintze, do you at least know him, this Ahronchik?”
“Of course I know him,” she said.
“Do you know he is nothing but a pennywhistle?”
“What is a pennywhistle?”
“It’s an empty walnut shell that whistles.”
“You are mistaken,” she said. “Arnold is a good person.”
“So now he’s Arnold,” I said, “not Ahronchik the charlatan?”
“Arnold is not a charlatan. Arnold has a good heart. Arnold,” she said, “comes from a house of corrupt people who care only about money and more money.”
“So, Shprintze,” I said, “you’ve also become an enlightened philosopher who despises money?”
I could see that things had gone quite far and that it was too late to go back because I know my daughters. Tevye’s daughters, as I once told you, when they get attached to someone, it’s with their entire life and heart and soul! And I thought to myself, Fool! Why should I want to be wiser than the whole world? Maybe God wished that through this quiet Shprintze I would come out ahead, be repaid for all the blows and pains I’d endured till now, have a good old age, and perhaps also have a decent life. Maybe it was fated that one of my daughters become a millionairess. And why not? Was I too proud? Where was it written that I always had to be a pauper, always dragging around with the horse and cheese and butter to stuff the mouths of the Yehupetz rich folks? Who knew, maybe it was inscribed Above that in my old age I would be a righter of wrongs, a philanthropist, entertain guests, and perhaps sit down with other Jews to study Torah.
Those and other such satisfying thoughts filled my head. As it is written in the Morning Prayers, Many are the thoughts in a man’s heart—or as a Gentile says, “An idea enriches a fool!”
I went into the house, took my old one aside, and had a talk with her. “How would it be,” I said, “if our Shprintze became a millionairess?”
“What’s a millionairess?” she asked.
“A millionairess means a millionaire’s wife.”
“What’s a millionaire?”
“A millionaire is a person who has a million.”
“How much is a million?”
“If you’re such a moron and don’t know how much a million is, what is there to talk about?”
“Who asked you to talk?” She was right.
Another day passed, and I came home and asked, “Has Ahronchik been here?” No, he hadn’t. Another day passed. “Has the young man been here?” No, he hadn’t. To go to the widow for an explanation wasn’t proper. I didn’t want her to think Tevye was pushing for the match. To her this all had to be as a lily among thorns—like a fifth wheel on a wagon, though I didn’t understand why. Was it because I didn’t have a million? I would have an in-law who was a millionairess, but whom would she have as an in-law? An impoverished Jew, a pauper, a Tevye the dairyman! Who, then, had more to be proud of, I or she? To tell the honest truth, I was beginning to want this match, not so much for its own sake as for the triumph of it. To hell with those Yehupetzer rich folks! Let them know who Tevye was! Till now, all you ever heard was Brodsky and again Brodsky, as if no one else existed!
That was what I was thinking as I drove home from Boiberik. Then my wife greeted me with excitement. “A messenger was just here from Boiberik, from the widow, asking you to go right back there, even if it is night! She says you should turn around and hurry back—you are badly needed there!”
“What’s the rush? Don’t they have time?” I took a quick look at my Shprintze, who didn’t say a word, but her eyes spoke—oy, did they speak! No one understood her heart better than I. I had been afraid that nothing would come of his proposal. I spoke my mind to her, told her that he was thus and so, but I was wasting my breath. And my Shprintze was wasting away like a candle.
I rigged up my horse and wagon again and left just before nightfall for Boiberik, wondering what they could want to talk to me about that was so urgent. An engagement? A betrothal? He could have come to me. After all, I was the father of the bride! Then I laughed. Unless the end of the world or the Messiah had come, whoever heard of a rich man going to the poor man? These young folks, the ne’er-do-wells, wanted me to believe that there would soon come a time when the rich man and the poor man would be equals—what was yours would be mine, and what was mine would be yours—anything goes! It’s a clever world we live in, but it has such fools in it!
I arrived in Boiberik, went directly to the widow’s dacha, and tied up my horse. Where was she? No widow at home. Where was the young man? No young man either. Who then had sent for me?
“I sent for you!” said a stout, solidly built Jew with a sparse little beard and a heavy gold chain across his belly.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“I am the widow’s brother and Ahronchik’s uncle. I was summoned from Katerineslav by telegram and I just arrived,” he said.
“If that is so, here’s a big welcome to you,” I said and sat down.
“Sit down,” he said.
“Thank you, I’m already sitting. How is the constitutzia going for you?”
He didn’t reply but made himself comfortable in a rocking chair. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he stuck out the gold chain and his belly and said, “I understand you are Tevye?”
“Yes. When I am called to bless the Torah, they say, ‘Arise, Reb Tevye, son of Shneur Zalman.’ ”
“Listen, Reb Tevye, to what I tell you,” he said. “Why should we waste words? Let’s get right down to business.”
“Fine,” I said. “King Solomon always used to say, For everything there is a time—when it’s time to talk business, it’s business. I am a businessman.”
“It’s plain,” he said, “that you are a businessman, and that’s why I want to talk to you in a businesslike way. Tell me frankly how much it will cost us all told. Be frank about it!”
“Since you ask me to be frank about it,” I said, “I can only say that I do not know what you are talking about.”
“Reb Tevye!” His hands were still in his pockets. “I am asking you how much the wedding will cost us all told.”
“That depends on what kind of wedding you are thinking about,” I said. “If you want a fancy wedding, as befits you, I am not capable of paying for it.”
He glared at me. “Either you are playing dumb or you are an oaf, although you don’t look like one. If you were an oaf, you wouldn’t have dragged my nephew into this mess, inviting him for Shevuos blintzes and tempting him with a pretty girl. I won’t get into whether she is really your daughter. He fell in love with her, and she with him. It’s possible she is a very special child and means well, I won’t get into that. But you mustn’t forget who you are and who we are. You are a man of learning, so how can you even consider that Tevye the dairyman, who delivers cheese and butter to us, could be our in-law? Ay, they gave each other their word, you say? They will take it back! No great tragedy will come of it. If it costs something for her to release him from his promise, that’s fine—we have nothing against that. A girl is not a boy, whether a daughter or not,” he said. “I won’t get into that.”
God in heaven! I wondered. What did this man want? He kept on talking, saying that I shouldn’t even think of making a scandal, of spreading it around that his nephew had made a match with Tevye the dairyman’s daughter, and that I should get it out of my head that his sister was a person whom you could take for a lot of money. If I didn’t make trouble, then I could get a few rubles from her, you know, as charity. They were, after all, decent people; sometimes you had to help someone out.
I arrived home and found my family, kayn eyn horeh, cheerful. They were eating supper. Shprintze was missing.
“Where is Shprintze?” I asked.
“What happened?” they asked. “Why did they call you there?”
“Where is Shprintze?”
“What happened there?”
“Nothing,” I said. “What should happen? It’s quiet, thank God. There are no pogroms.”
Then Shprintze came in, looked into my eyes, and sat down at the table as if nothing were going on, as if we weren’t talking about her. Her face betrayed nothing, but her stillness was now too much, not natural. I did not like the way she was sitting deep in thought or the way she complied with everything she was told to do. If you told her to sit, she sat. If you told her to eat, she ate. If you told her to go, she went. And if you called her name, she startled. My heart ached for her, and a rage was burning in me, against whom I did not know. O Thou Lord of the Universe, God in heaven! Why do you punish me so? For whose sins?
To make a long story short—do you want to know the end? I would not wish that end on my worst enemy, on anyone, because the curse of children is the worst curse found in the biblical book of curses! How do I know that someone didn’t curse me with children? You don’t believe in these things? How then to explain it? Let’s hear what you have to say. But why should I speculate? Better to hear the ending I have to tell.