Read Online Stempenyu: A Jewish Romance by Sholem Aleichem, Hannah Berman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sholem Aleichem, Hannah Berman
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Dvossa-Malka insisted she should eat. And, as she took bite after bite, under the watchful eyes of her mother-in-law, she felt that she must choke sooner or later.
This mode of life, that was in itself a kind of bondage, grew intensely wearisome to Rochalle, despite the fact that she knew very well they were her true and faithful friends, and despite, too, the knowledge she had that they were quite ready to carry out the least of her wishes without an instant’s hesitation. She felt that if she asked for something which was as far out of their reach as were the stars in the sky they would make every effort, and strain every nerve to get it for her. There was no excuse; and when Rochalle asked for a thing she must have it at once.
But, a human being is not a bull nor a goose that he or she should be satisfied to do nothing but eat. Nobody could possibly enjoy such a life. No one could feel comfortable in the least to have their footsteps dogged to every hour of the day—to have the road dusted for his feet to tread on, so to say—to feel that his footfalls were being counted, and his bites watched. And, Rochalle was heartily sick of having Dvossa-Malka hanging over her when she sat down, and sitting beside her even when she slept. She hated to feel that her whole life was entirely in the hands of others. She saw now that she had completely lost her independence.
She was feeling bitterly the sad position in which she now found herself at the time when the reader made her acquaintance. She was lonely as well as tied down. She had not a single friend to whom she might unburden herself; and, her own parents were far off. Nor could she explain her position to them. They were full sure that she was happy as the day was long. Their letters to her contained nothing but rejoicings at her good fortune. They expressed their heartiest congratulations in detailto her, and sang loud hymns of thanksgiving for the good fortune that the Lord had sent her; and, expressed the deepest feelings of their hearts, which were that she might continue to enjoy her fortune for ever and ever. They often finished up their letters with the words:
“In joy, and with much gratitude on your account, and with happy hearts. Amen! Selah!”
Deep down in her heart, Rochalle carried a grudge against Moshe-Mendel because he kept her at a distance from him. It was as if he wished to show her that he was infinitely superior to her, and, that she was not on any account to imagine herself as his equal. It was not an unusual thing for a young man of his type to hold himself superior to his wife. In fact, all who were like him considered it beneath their dignity to depend on their wives for anything, and certainly never dreamt of consulting them at any time.
But, in his secret heart, and after his own peculiar fashion, Moshe-Mendel was very fond of Rochalle. He was very faithful to her even in thought, and never entertained the least feeling towards her that was not kind as well as honest in every sense of the word.
One day, not long after they were married, Rochalle was unwell and stayed in bed. And, Moshe-Mendel was filled with concern for her. He never left her side of a second. His heart ached to see how pale and ill she looked. Her sighed and thought to himself that he would gladly give up his last drop of blood if by doing so he could save her a single pang of pain.
“It is heartrending,” he said to his mother, the tears glittering in his eyes. “We ought to call n the apothecary, or the
Feldsher
! I cannot bear to see her lying there andburning. It is heartrending!”
She was much better the next morning, but, she did not lave her bed. And, Moshe-Mendel refused to leave her for a moment. He felt that he had now a good opportunity to have a long and pleasant chat with his beautiful wide. He had wished for such an opportunity. But, he had always been disturbed by either his father or mother. He felt that Rochalle, too, wished to talk to him quite as
This mode of life, that was in itself a kind of bondage, grew intensely wearisome to Rochalle, despite the fact that she knew very well they were her true and faithful friends, and despite, too, the knowledge she had that they were quite ready to carry out the least of her wishes without an instant’s hesitation. She felt that if she asked for something which was as far out of their reach as were the stars in the sky they would make every effort, and strain every nerve to get it for her. There was no excuse; and when Rochalle asked for a thing she must have it at once.
But, a human being is not a bull nor a goose that he or she should be satisfied to do nothing but eat. Nobody could possibly enjoy such a life. No one could feel comfortable in the least to have their footsteps dogged to every hour of the day—to have the road dusted for his feet to tread on, so to say—to feel that his footfalls were being counted, and his bites watched. And, Rochalle was heartily sick of having Dvossa-Malka hanging over her when she sat down, and sitting beside her even when she slept. She hated to feel that her whole life was entirely in the hands of others. She saw now that she had completely lost her independence.
She was feeling bitterly the sad position in which she now found herself at the time when the reader made her acquaintance. She was lonely as well as tied down. She had not a single friend to whom she might unburden herself; and, her own parents were far off. Nor could she explain her position to them. They were full sure that she was happy as the day was long. Their letters to her contained nothing but rejoicings at her good fortune. They expressed their heartiest congratulations in detailto her, and sang loud hymns of thanksgiving for the good fortune that the Lord had sent her; and, expressed the deepest feelings of their hearts, which were that she might continue to enjoy her fortune for ever and ever. They often finished up their letters with the words:
“In joy, and with much gratitude on your account, and with happy hearts. Amen! Selah!”
Deep down in her heart, Rochalle carried a grudge against Moshe-Mendel because he kept her at a distance from him. It was as if he wished to show her that he was infinitely superior to her, and, that she was not on any account to imagine herself as his equal. It was not an unusual thing for a young man of his type to hold himself superior to his wife. In fact, all who were like him considered it beneath their dignity to depend on their wives for anything, and certainly never dreamt of consulting them at any time.
But, in his secret heart, and after his own peculiar fashion, Moshe-Mendel was very fond of Rochalle. He was very faithful to her even in thought, and never entertained the least feeling towards her that was not kind as well as honest in every sense of the word.
One day, not long after they were married, Rochalle was unwell and stayed in bed. And, Moshe-Mendel was filled with concern for her. He never left her side of a second. His heart ached to see how pale and ill she looked. Her sighed and thought to himself that he would gladly give up his last drop of blood if by doing so he could save her a single pang of pain.
“It is heartrending,” he said to his mother, the tears glittering in his eyes. “We ought to call n the apothecary, or the
Feldsher
! I cannot bear to see her lying there andburning. It is heartrending!”
She was much better the next morning, but, she did not lave her bed. And, Moshe-Mendel refused to leave her for a moment. He felt that he had now a good opportunity to have a long and pleasant chat with his beautiful wide. He had wished for such an opportunity. But, he had always been disturbed by either his father or mother. He felt that Rochalle, too, wished to talk to him quite as
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