Tsaḥut bediḥuta de-kiddushin (A Comedy of Betrothal)

Proclaim to the citizens of our city that in joy and gladness we propose to marry our daughter Beruriah to the handsome Jedidiah, Sholom’s son. Our most sincere and heartfelt expectation is that the future bridegroom’s father, Sholom, will return safely from Damascus, that we may be able to consummate the marriage of our children during the Purim holidays and so unite our two families.

Who is more concerned about all these arrangements than I? For months all I have been thinking about is how to make sure that our daughter has the things she needs—the gaily embroidered linen, the fancy sheeting and pillow slips, the fine hats and cloaks, the splendid dresses and accessories—in short, that she has the most complete trousseau of any Jewish girl about to be a bride!

I should scold you for the extravagant way in which your women deliberately throw money around. Such an extravagance has no real purpose except to serve your vanity. It neither helps nor profits anyone.

I don’t deny, dear husband, that we disagree on the question of dowers. As I see it, by making a simple but generous gift we improve the lot of our granddaughters. Now, if I differ from you, it’s a difference that is peculiar to our sex. And if every Jewish woman thinks like I do, how can you say that dowering the bride is a foolish idea? Besides, we have no one else but Beruriah to whom we can leave our worldly goods. Surely it’s plain common sense and perfectly appropriate for in-laws to endow the young bridegroom with additional property and so make his life easier. Besides, Jedidiah is a good boy, intelligent and handsome, too. To my mind there is none like him anywhere!

I took all this into consideration when I recognized how superior he was in virtue to all his fellows. So I was most careful not to interfere with your provision for his welfare, and even praised you roundly for your actions.

But, I, also, increased the number of Beruriah’s wedding presents when I discovered what Jedidiah’s situation actually was. Sholom, his father, is a miser and has refused to give his son what he needs for his marriage. So long as Sholom lives he won’t provide a stitch of clothing for our daughter. So it seems that we must take it upon ourselves to furnish her with her marriage finery–her fine blouse, the linen pantaloons, the vest and coat, the turban and sash. And, if we want Jedidiah to be decked out as a bridegroom should be on his wedding day, we shall have to have two complete suits of clothing made for him, as well.

Ah, there you speak no foolishness or false prophecy! Now not only do we incur the heavy expense of clothing him but of providing him with a complete wardrobe for all the years to come. You’ll be telling me next that we are under legal obligation to furnish his board for the rest of his life? Oh, woe is me! [Enter a messenger who hands Amon a letter. Amon reads, then sighs as if in pain.]

[Alarmed] Why are you sighing like that? Are you in pain?

Because we’re in serious trouble. Listen to this. [He interrupts himself and moves away from the door of his house, beckoning his wife to come close to him.] I called you out here so that Beruriah shouldn’t hear.

[She is now almost beside herself with alarm] Please stop torturing me. Why do you keep moving away from me? What is this letter that you are reading, as if your heart was crushed and broken? Have you had news about Sholom, our “in-law”?

Yes I have. This very letter is about Sholom and it brings terrible news! Terrible! It says that Sholom has passed away in Damascus.

Blessed be the True Judge! I am so sorry to hear such awful news. But why do you make things worse by mourning him? Doesn’t death come to everyone? Well, you have decided and properly too to bring that fine young man, Jedidiah, into our household and, as his guardian, you can help him manage his abundant inheritance. With all of this wealth you can maintain him under your roof in suitable fashion.

Maintain him in suitable fashion? With what? His father has left a cruel inheritance for his dear son. He has deliberately given it all to strangers!

What a calamity!

[Reading further in the letter] Oh, oh! Can I believe what I’m reading here? And he such a good, upright person, too!

What more frightening news have you to tell me? Why are you holding it back from me?

How can I hold it back, and how can I speak out when I see that my “in-law,” Sholom, has taken all the joy out of my life. While they were in Damascus, Sholom willed everything to Shovel his servant.

Alas, alack-a-day and woe upon us all! Is there no way that we can restore the inheritance to his son Jedidiah and so settle things for our son-in-law?

Well, this is what Hanamel, my partner in Damascus, wrote me. The authorities there blocked any possibility of Jedidiah ever obtaining his inheritance–even the smallest bit of it! So Hanamel has resolved to say nothing about what happened there until he can send me more information. He has written this in strictest confidence to me alone. So don’t you be revealing about what’s in the letter—not to Jedidiah, not to his sister Shifrah, who is coming to live with us today, and certainly not to anyone else!

Thank you good Lord that they haven’t yet arrived and that the marriage has not been finalized. There’s still the chance that one way or another we can find the happiness for our daughter that she richly deserves.

But am I not obliged to give her in marriage to Sholom’s son Jedidiah, this very week?

Granted, you gave your solemn promise to Sholom’s son. But there isn’t the least doubt in my mind now that you are completely absolved of that promise, because his father made a mockery of the agreement with you when he handed over his wealth to a total stranger rather than to his own son.

Just because Sholom failed to do what was right, does that permit me to break my solemn word? The promises I make, I keep!

Look. There is no question of solemn promises here. Just don’t try to give my daughter to someone or other who is weak and helpless, because she would think it a misfortune and not be happy in such a marriage. Before I would give her to such a man, I would strangle her with my own hands or drown her in the depths of the sea! [She starts back into the house.]

Why are you leaving?

Because I don’t want to waste any more words on the matter! [Her voice rises into a scream of anguish.]

Be quiet, my dear wife, or you’ll wake the entire household with your racket! I don’t want Beruriah to know about this terrible misfortune.

Well, then, it won’t be any problem for you because I’m resolved to say nothing to her until we can get her another bride-groom. That’s the only way we can get out of this distressing situation.

But why—suddenly, in a twinkling—have you reversed your good opinion of Jedidiah and now consider him your enemy?

Because from the moment that Sholom changed his will I have hated him intensely. I don’t feel sorry for his son, either, because now he’s been made a bastard. The only reason I would look at him is to give him the evil eye. [She makes the gesture.]

But what crime did the boy commit?

What’s said is said, and there’s nothing that can make me change my mind.

If that’s your opinion of him that’s your opinion. But what about my view? Am I already dead? Is that the way you think of me?

Of course you are alive, dear husband. It’s from you that I get my ideas. But I still do as I wish, because I have absolute faith in my judgment to know right from wrong and to do what is right. Really now, how can you deliver your sweet and innocent child over to a miserable wretch who is despised and rejected without a penny to his name? Are you going to endow this poverty-stricken fellow with all your worldly wealth?

The character that Jedidiah had a few days ago is the character that Jedidiah has today. Isn’t he still bright and clever? With the aid of such generous endowments he’ll regain the wealth that he had before.

Quite possibly, husband, but the fact remains he’s a lot poorer now than last night!

How can you compare being bright and clever with money?

How can you compare a soul with a body?

A soul gives life. Without it the body is nothing—a nobody!

Money likewise brings things to life, and without it life can be pretty deadly. To have character only means something is lacking. Just to be bright is dumb, unless one has something in the hand. [She rubs her first two fingers against the ball of the thumb significantly.] How can I force my daughter into a life of poverty and make her a laughing stock? That I shall never, never allow. I’m going inside now, but believe me, what I want I’ll get!