Satan in Goray - Isaac Bashevis Singer [28]
golem in the study house attic, that he might come to the help of the Jews at the birthpangs of the Messiah. Someone saw Mordecai Joseph and a boy haul a sack of clay up the stairs. Of Reb Itche Mates it was said that he experienced an ascent of the soul every night, and that Rabbi Isaac Luria, the holy man, came and revealed the secrets of the cabala to him. Since Reb Itche Mates' arrival in Goray, the Jews of that town had set their hearts on returning to God. The men arose before daybreak to recite psalms, the women fasted Mondays and Thursdays and sent pots of food to the poorhouse. One married woman rapped on the prayer stand one Sabbath and confessed that she had lain with her husband during the days of her impurity. Young newlyweds did not visit their wives on the nights they immersed themselves in the bathhouse. A few select persons gathered every night at Reb Godel Chasid's house, and Reb Itche Mates bared the mysteries of the Torah for them. On the night of the seventeenth day of Tebet, Rechele was betrothed to Reb Itche Mates; the betrothal feast took place in the upper floor of Rechele's house. Benches and tables were set about the room, one section for the men and another section for the women. At the last moment Rechele changed her mind and fell to weeping that she did not want Itche Mates. But she was mollified with sweet talk and gifts until finally she consented again. Now she sat crowded in among the women, wearing a silk dress, a kerchief on her forehead, and a strand of beads that belonged to Chinkele. Her face was pale, and wry, her large brilliant eyes were full of tears-. To divert the bride and raise her spirits, the women enthusiastically praised her beauty, stroked her hair, and quickened her with spoonfuls of moldy citrus preserve. Reb Itche Mates, in a silk kaftan, sat surrounded by his followers at the men's table. The oven was stoked, so that the walls sweated, and the tall candles in the earthen candlesticks melted so fast that the wicks needed frequent trimming. Reb Itche Mates was in high spirits, his face flushed, eyes bright. Alluding often to the mystery of holy sexual union, he expounded new cabalistic combinations and permutations of holy letters, while doling out portions of brandy and spiced wine. So elated did he become that he told the women to dance, to amuse the bride-to-be. At this Chinkele the Pious stood up and ordered the table pushed aside. A Bohemian, she followed that coun-try's customs. The young women mocked her and guffawed, but Chinkele did not seem to hear them. Extending her thin arms in their wide, gathered sleeves, she put her small head to one side, circled about and sang in Old Yiddish: Protect, Lord God, this bride and groom; May we see the Messiah soon. The Holy Presence, Lord God, wed As these two seek the marriage bed. Ecstatic, Chinkele the Pious wanted them to dance in a circle, but the women were bashful and, crowding around the threshold, they pushed one another forward. Chinkele tried to dance with the bride, but because of Rechele's lameness had to desist. Then, wiping his wet forehead with his sleeve, Itche Mates arose and approached Chinkele. He drew his handkerchief from his breast pocket, held one corner of it, and said to Chinkele, speaking out of the side of his mouth so as not to address her directly: "Take a corner! It is pleasing to the blessed God for us to dance before Him." Reb Itche Mates pulled up the tails of his kaftan, exposing his white linen trousers and the fringes of his vest, and, covering his eyes with his left hand, he began to scrape his feet. Like a bride at the bridal dance, Chinkele lifted the train of her ruffled satin wedding dress and hopped back and forth in her pointed shoes. The sparkling beads on her bonnet jangled, her hollow cheeks were flushed red, and shining tears dripped from her eyelids. At first everyone looked on in amazement. Some even doubted whether this was not sinful levity. But soon they were silenced, sensing that this dance was not a simple one: great things were transpiring. So profound did the silence