It was the holiest day in the year, and she against whom their wrath was
raised was a weak woman, and was, moreover, in a condition that ought to
have pleaded for her with the most savage of men. But who knows how far
pious zeal might not have led these fanatics? It had often before
carried them to incredible lengths. Ruben forced his way through the
ranks of infuriated men, his anger and pain giving him strength to do
so. He lifted his wife like a child, and, supporting her with his left
arm, pushed a way for himself and her through the crowd by a vigorous
use of his right arm. He then rushed down-stairs, and home through the
streets, pursued by the curses of his co-religionists. The October wind
blew his wife's hair sharply in his pale face as he ran, and almost
blinded him.
Lea soon recovered from her faint; but when she looked round and saw her
hair hanging about her like a cloud, she shrieked out, and fell into
violent convulsions. The doctor hastened to her; but he only succeeded
in saving the life of the mother, not that of the child. Next morning
the Jews of Barnow told each other that the judgment of God had fallen
upon the sinner for the third time.
Ruben was as though petrified with grief. And when he was summoned
before the rabbi in council that very morning, he obeyed the mandate as
calmly as if he had not been the culprit to be tried. He returned no
answer to the curses that were heaped upon him, and, when put upon his
defense, gave short and bold replies to the questions addressed to him.
He was asked whether he had known of his wife's sin. Yes, he said, he
had. Why had he suffered her to commit such a wickedness? Because it was
not wicked in his eyes. Did he recognize what had now befallen him as a
judgment of God? No; because he believed in an all-wise, all-merciful
God. Would he at least consent to cut off his wife's hair now? No, for
that would be breaking the promise he had made her when they were
engaged. Did he know the punishment he was bringing upon himself by
continuing in his sin? He did, and would know how to bear it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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