The Jew Part 10

On the first floor Lucie reigned in a little _salon_, fresh and elegant. Here they found all the rest of the company. Seated in the balcony, the Russian smoked in silence. It was easy to be seen that this impromptu tea was not pleasing to him, for he shut himself up in complete reserve without joining in the conversation.

The Tsigane, installed comfortably on the sofa, looked around him with supreme indifference. The Dane paid special attention to his hostess, and the Italians were in gay spirits. When the door opened and Jacob appeared, Madame Coloni went hastily to meet him.

"_Grazie tante! Grazie tante!_" cried she. "You are so kind to have come. It is a sacrifice for which I thank you."

"How can it be called a sacrifice to pa.s.s the evening in your charming society, and to have the pleasure of looking at you," said Jacob.

"Unworthy flatterer!" replied she, striking him softly on his hand. "No more compliments. You mock me! Seat yourself, sir, and tell me quickly who is our singer. Who is this beautiful lady with accents so sad that on hearing her we have tears in our eyes? Why was she so agitated on seeing you? Why did you grow so pale?"

Jacob had great control over himself. He laughed so naturally that he deceived his fair questioner, who began to lose the hope of hearing a romantic history.

"You have truly a vivid imagination!" said he. "You have already composed a sad song. You have invested me with the sufferings of the hero of your romance; but I am no hero, I a.s.sure you. The lady is a countrywoman of mine and a co-religionist. She and her husband are Jews and live in Warsaw. Our acquaintance is then very natural. Behold the truth in simple prose."

The Italian tapped her foot impatiently. "This truth seems a little false," said she. "I observed you closely when you first met her."

Jacob made an effort to smile.

"The real truth is that I might well have been grieved and astonished, for I know the sad history of this woman."

"Ah! there is, then, as I thought, a sad story?"

"Yes, but I did not figure in it."

Lucie looked at him fixedly, but he returned her glance without emotion.

"Oh! pray, monsieur," demanded she in a caressing voice, "relate to me this story. I am dying to hear it."

"I warn you, madame, that it is not remarkable, and as it is the story of a Jewess it will be less interesting to you than to me. I am afraid I shall weary you. I am a bad story-teller, long and tiresome."

"You take a long time to tell a story! So much the better, we have plenty of time to listen. But do not torment me. Begin."

"Permit me, madame, to collect my thoughts for a moment."

"If," said the Dane, "the story is as long as monsieur promises us, and there is in the story a sentimental woman enc.u.mbered with a beast of a husband and a n.o.ble lover, I will excuse myself from listening. I can guess it all in advance."

"I also," said the Tsigane. "It is always the same thing."

"Where can true love be found to-day?" cried the Dane.

Lucie protested against this atrocious blasphemy, but the Tsigane replied imperturbably:--

"You will grant that the times of chivalrous love have vanished. Only the turtle-doves are innocent enough to sigh still. Formerly, as we are told, humanity pa.s.sed through a long epoch of exalted love. Today men have almost abandoned these ways. A hundred years from now they will laugh at such love-stories and wonder how it could have been. I speak of such loves as those of Leander and Hero, not that of Calypso for young and handsome warriors, nor of the love of Nero for Poppea. That kind of love lasts because it is natural. But love which is torture, which suffers for some ideal beauty, it is an old, stereotyped plate, out of fas.h.i.+on. Show me to-day some one who loves in this way or who would be disposed to make serious sacrifices for love. The young girls marry because the husband suits the father and mother. The men marry for settlements, or for charms more or less fascinating. They do not marry at all for love,--that fantasy has gone out of fas.h.i.+on."

"Why," said Lucie indignantly, "you cannot maintain such ridiculous a.s.sertions."

"I can prove them by facts. Look around you. Everywhere caprice, pa.s.sion, love of excitement, etc., but true love nowhere."

Lucie sighed.

"Is this progress or decadence?" asked she.

"I know not. It is sad for you beautiful women to descend from the pedestal on which you were elevated, but how can you refuse the evidence of things?"

"Is it so evident?"

"Alas! I do not wish to impose my opinion on you, but reflect seriously. Where can you find as formerly two souls created for each other?"

"What you say," interrupted Jacob, "is true up to a certain point. But I hope the world has only temporarily renounced this poetry. If all ideality should disappear it would be a sad thing. I will add a commentary to your remarks, Monsieur Gako. Men do not love themselves as much as they used. That is why existence is in some sort lessened, and the number of suicides from weariness of life is daily augmented."

Madame Coloni clapped her hands and reminded Jacob of his promise to relate a history.

The Tsigane yawned. The Russian lighted a fresh cigarette, the Dane went out, and when it was silent the Jew commenced in a low voice:--

"In all the legislation of the world the most badly understood and the most badly judged is perhaps that of Moses. It belongs to me to defend it in my character of Jew. Our law is the fundamental base of yours. Do not forget that Jesus said that he came not to destroy the law, but to complete it.

"It is generally supposed that the Hebrew women were debased to the level of slaves. Nothing of the kind. Customs were sometimes swerved from the law, influenced as they were by the barbarity of the times, but it is not the law which abases woman.

"In the Jewish language she is called _Ischa_, the feminine of _Isch_, which means 'man.' This name alone indicates the perfect equality of the s.e.xes. Deuteronomy xxi. 10-15 commends us to respect even the captives. Polygamy, exceptionally practised by the kings, is forbidden in a formal manner. The Bible reveals to us in more than one page the disastrous effects of this immoral custom. On a level with man, _Isch_, woman, _Ischa_, it is true, was not priest, but she was permitted to bear the offerings to the altar. No legislation of antiquity or even of later epochs can show us woman better treated or more respected than with the Jews. The mothers of the Maccabees and of Judith prove the importance of that role.

"A young girl of twelve years, _Ketannah_, could be promised in marriage by her father, but, above that age, become _Nairah_, she could marry to please herself.

"Pagan and barbarous usages, nevertheless, penetrated even among us at the epoch of the Kings. The s.e.xes were more strictly separated.

Sometimes, for example, the Jews cloistered the women in a harem, or, if they were poor, compelled them to do manual labour. There rests this stain against us, contrary to the true spirit of the Mosaic law.

"Pardon this digression, too grave, perhaps, for a love idyl between a man and woman. But you will see later on that it was necessary."

"I believe that your story will contain at least two men," said Lucie lightly.

"It suffices me to put only one in strong relief, although two or three men will find a place in this history, this idyl, or, if you prefer, this drama. Without them there could be no drama."

"Or simply a monodrama depending on one man."

"You have all seen this woman whose voice has so charmed us. She is the most unfortunate of women, because she is obliged to submit to a situation that is revolting to her.

"Her father, a rich Jew, belongs, or rather belonged, to those of his race who, owing to a European education, have sunk into a destructive scepticism, and regard as an imposture all religions, including his own. Entering early into active life, he attributed the success of his career partly to luck, but above all to his own intelligence and energy. Outside of these three forces, there was for him nothing else here below but a poetical Utopia for the amus.e.m.e.nt of simpletons.

"The mother of Mathilde was a devout Israelite, but she died young, and her child was left to the care of so-called Christians, who taught her their own unbelief in the ideal, and left her to form her mind for good or evil by reading without discernment. They taught her that there was neither virtue nor vice, but skill or stupidity, calculation or improvidence, decency or unseemliness. So that when the maiden entered society she looked on men as mere ciphers or figures, as they appear in one of the tables of Pythagoras. Such a society seemed unattractive to a youthful imagination which had an instinctive longing for the perfumes of life, and found only dead and withered flowers.

"At an early age she was deprived of these illusions. She was told that men were wicked, heartless, and deceivers. It would not do to believe in their protestations; she must view them with contempt and aversion.

It was a good thing to be honest, to spare one's self the trouble of embarra.s.sment, and honesty is often the best policy. On this theory crime was only an awkwardness, and virtue without intrinsic worth unless it brought a.s.sured profits.

"As Mathilde might marry an Israelite, a Mussulman, or a Christian, she had access to the literature of all religious beliefs. She read the Bible, but her father ridiculed the most sacred pa.s.sages. This critical raillery and the numerous books perused by her left her mind nothing but unbelief.

"Add to this the practical education which endeavoured prematurely to tear from her all heart, as one pulls an aching tooth to prevent further suffering, and you can form some idea of what they had done to this poor child.

"Mathilde entered this existence like an insensible statue, without taste for life. She foresaw that she would not be happy, for she well knew that there could be no happiness for n.o.ble souls. Her sentiments did not accord with the line of conduct that had been drawn for her.

Her aspirations were pure, but she was taught that self-interest should be the only motive of all her aspirations, and that any other course was a morbid weakness, and would lead to ruin. Although she was ignorant of many things that had been concealed from her, she divined them, and each day she rebelled against this desperate reality. Her widowed father lived on, following his own whims without regard to moral law, and without belief in virtue. Coveting all that was accessible to him, he led a selfish life, and, although he was careful to observe the proprieties in his house, his practices were visible to the eyes of his young daughter, who was convinced that true affection had no place in the hearts of men. Her generous nature revolted sadly against this paternal materialism. Any other woman under the influence of such an example, in such an immoral atmosphere, would have been corrupted. Mathilde felt only a profound melancholy. Nature and study became her consolers. Art spoke to her of the great sentiments toward which she had wished to raise herself, but had been prevented.

"There is perhaps no torture more intense than a struggle like this between n.o.ble instincts and the animalism of the world. Mathilde in her fourteenth year was already as sad, as wearied, as she is to-day of this existence without future and without hope. Before her appeared the certainty of an advantageous marriage which would render her life a success in a worldly sense. Nothing more! Her father, with his wealth, was sure to find a young husband of good position, possessed of riches equal to his own. It was not to be supposed that he would seek for other qualities, and it was certain that he would not suffer from his daughter, whom he loved after his own fas.h.i.+on, the least remonstrance in regard to his choice.