Stempenyu: A Jewish Romance by Sholem Aleichem, Hannah Berman
Authors: Sholem Aleichem, Hannah Berman
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song.”
“My little song? What is there in it to make you weep?”
“Oh, Rochalle, do not ask me. Do not ask to me to tell you all that is in my embittered heart. A fire is burning within me—a terrible fire. Just here I feel it—just here, near my heart?”
Chaya-Ettel put her hand to her heart, and Rochalle looked at her in bewilderment, and amazement.
“Why do you look at me so, Rochalle? You do not understand what I am suffering. You can never understand what goes on within me. My heart feels as heavy as lead; and, I am so lonely, and so miserable. I carry about with me a load of sorrow. But, I will tell you everything—everything.
Chaya-Ettel proceeded to tell Rochalle a whole story which one may hear from any Jewish man or womanalmost any day of the week; but, a sad story for all that. She told Rochalle of the death of her two parents within a short time of one another; and how, since the day on which her uncle had taken her into his own house, she had suffered all sorts of ill-treatment. Her uncle was unkind to her, it was true; but her aunt was worse by far. And, had it not been for her uncle’s younger son, Benjamin, she would have run away long ago. More than this, she might have drowned herself in the river. Benjamin was so good to her that he consoled her almost entirely for what she had to suffer every day of the week. They had grown up together, and were more like sister and brother than cousins. But, at the end of some time, he went away, and left her all alone amongst total strangers; that is to say, not real strangers, but relatives who were worse to her than if they had been the blackest of black strangers.
“I don’t see why one should weep when a friend goes away,” remarked Rochalle. “Even if he was to you a real broker, and he was not, you need not break your heart after him, nor cry your eyes out!”
“Oh, Rochalle, you do not know how kind he was to me. And, his image is as deeply rooted in my heart as if he had really been my brother. Nay, even more than if he had been of my own flesh and blood. I tell you, Rochalle, when I saw Benjamin it was as if a candle had been lit in the darkness. Everything was bright. And when he went away—”
“Benjamin had to go away, had he not? Didn’t he get married?”
“Oh, Rochalle, do not mention it. I hate the word, ‘married.’ It seems to take the very life from me. Whenthey tell me that Benjamin is married, it seems to me that the end of my days has come. You know nothing of such things, Rochalle, and I hope you never will. But, why do you look at me in such a curious way? Benjamin promised that he would marry me. He swore it!”
Nu! And what if he did not marry you, Chaya-Ettel?”
“You talk like a child, Rochalle. It was not my fate. It was another girl’s destiny to be so lucky as to marry him!”
“But, had he not sworn to marry you?”
“Well, and if he did swear it? He was always promising to ask his father’s permission; but, he kept putting it off from day to day. You know what sort of a man my uncle is? Benjamin was afraid to approach him. And, one day, he found himself betrothed to her. I talked to him about it; and, he made answer, hat as the day of the wedding is still far off, there was yet time for him to talk to his father. And, in this way, the weeks and the months flew by. And, the wedding day came round. I myself stood beside the canopy when they were married. With my own eyes I saw how they put the ring on her finger; and, with my own ears, I heard them pronounce the blessing. The Cantor and his choir sang a loud, joyful hymn. Benjamin drooped his eyes on to the floor, so that he might avoid meeting my eyes. But, I know that he saw me all the same. Oh, Rochalle, how can I live over all these miseries? How can I stand them all?”
“In that case, Chaya-Ettel, Benjamin is a great liar, and is not worth the ground he stands on.”
“No, Rochalle, I tell you he is no liar. You do not know him. You have no
“My little song? What is there in it to make you weep?”
“Oh, Rochalle, do not ask me. Do not ask to me to tell you all that is in my embittered heart. A fire is burning within me—a terrible fire. Just here I feel it—just here, near my heart?”
Chaya-Ettel put her hand to her heart, and Rochalle looked at her in bewilderment, and amazement.
“Why do you look at me so, Rochalle? You do not understand what I am suffering. You can never understand what goes on within me. My heart feels as heavy as lead; and, I am so lonely, and so miserable. I carry about with me a load of sorrow. But, I will tell you everything—everything.
Chaya-Ettel proceeded to tell Rochalle a whole story which one may hear from any Jewish man or womanalmost any day of the week; but, a sad story for all that. She told Rochalle of the death of her two parents within a short time of one another; and how, since the day on which her uncle had taken her into his own house, she had suffered all sorts of ill-treatment. Her uncle was unkind to her, it was true; but her aunt was worse by far. And, had it not been for her uncle’s younger son, Benjamin, she would have run away long ago. More than this, she might have drowned herself in the river. Benjamin was so good to her that he consoled her almost entirely for what she had to suffer every day of the week. They had grown up together, and were more like sister and brother than cousins. But, at the end of some time, he went away, and left her all alone amongst total strangers; that is to say, not real strangers, but relatives who were worse to her than if they had been the blackest of black strangers.
“I don’t see why one should weep when a friend goes away,” remarked Rochalle. “Even if he was to you a real broker, and he was not, you need not break your heart after him, nor cry your eyes out!”
“Oh, Rochalle, you do not know how kind he was to me. And, his image is as deeply rooted in my heart as if he had really been my brother. Nay, even more than if he had been of my own flesh and blood. I tell you, Rochalle, when I saw Benjamin it was as if a candle had been lit in the darkness. Everything was bright. And when he went away—”
“Benjamin had to go away, had he not? Didn’t he get married?”
“Oh, Rochalle, do not mention it. I hate the word, ‘married.’ It seems to take the very life from me. Whenthey tell me that Benjamin is married, it seems to me that the end of my days has come. You know nothing of such things, Rochalle, and I hope you never will. But, why do you look at me in such a curious way? Benjamin promised that he would marry me. He swore it!”
Nu! And what if he did not marry you, Chaya-Ettel?”
“You talk like a child, Rochalle. It was not my fate. It was another girl’s destiny to be so lucky as to marry him!”
“But, had he not sworn to marry you?”
“Well, and if he did swear it? He was always promising to ask his father’s permission; but, he kept putting it off from day to day. You know what sort of a man my uncle is? Benjamin was afraid to approach him. And, one day, he found himself betrothed to her. I talked to him about it; and, he made answer, hat as the day of the wedding is still far off, there was yet time for him to talk to his father. And, in this way, the weeks and the months flew by. And, the wedding day came round. I myself stood beside the canopy when they were married. With my own eyes I saw how they put the ring on her finger; and, with my own ears, I heard them pronounce the blessing. The Cantor and his choir sang a loud, joyful hymn. Benjamin drooped his eyes on to the floor, so that he might avoid meeting my eyes. But, I know that he saw me all the same. Oh, Rochalle, how can I live over all these miseries? How can I stand them all?”
“In that case, Chaya-Ettel, Benjamin is a great liar, and is not worth the ground he stands on.”
“No, Rochalle, I tell you he is no liar. You do not know him. You have no
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