The Ghetto: A Drama in Four Acts — Themes and Context

You were glad enough to have her. Would a Jewess light your fire on Sabbath--would a Jewess open your letters for you? Shall I send her away?

No. Because on Sabbath your feet would be cold and your letters would lie unopened, even if you were not blind. I pity the girl; I have heard that her father was a gentleman and died poor and in exile, because he had given succour to the persecuted Jews.

Who can prove it? It is a good story to work upon our sympathies. They cannot deceive me. I will have no sympathies.

[_To ROSA._] Isn't it warm.

[_They look off over the river._

But aren't those clouds beautiful? They are bringing a blessed rain; but they lower as if they brought a pestilence.

You call them beautiful? You know very well that we are speculating in produce: if the drought keeps on the rich will have to pay dear for their vegetables, and the poor won't have any; it will profit us handsomely! And you only think of your own pleasure!

It was only the beauty, the majesty of the clouds; they are massed together like enemies ready to destroy us. But the poor; ah, I can see the hand of God in those clouds!

The God of all peoples, of all faiths--the God who knows no ceremony but the way of living, and no creed but what He plants in the hearts of every one.

You are a strange sort of Christian! You talk like Rafael! [_Exit ROSA, as if to avoid the subject._] I wonder if she ever talks with Rafael! Sachel, I see Aaron!

I'll make him speak first.

[_To SACHEL._] Good evening. [_No answer._] What's the matter with you, old friend? I have a bit of business with you.

Good evening. Rather late for business, isn't it? Sit down.

It's never too late for business. It was never too early when we were young--eh, Sachel? Do you remember forty years ago, when you and I and Abram stood in line at two o'clock in the morning--to get the best places at the sale? Poverty wasn't trumps then, as it is now.

H'm! I fancy not with you, now.

What did you come about?

Eh? Well, I have something I think you'll want.

Eh? Why, some wool, I'll sell it cheap. Feel that! As soft as my daughter's cheek!

[_Gives SACHEL a packet of wool._

[_Returning the packet._] I didn't think you'd have anything I wanted.

No; it wouldn't interest us. Have some coffee, Rosa!

You think it is not good. You don't know! That wool was bought by my daughter, Rebecca, and I'll back her judgment against any man's in the Ghetto! [_Gives a little to SACHEL._] Feel that!

[_Breaking the fibres, and listening to the sound they make._] His daughter! Cotton! More cotton! His daughter!

I will match her with your son, any day!

My son is in no hurry to marry.

Marry? I meant as a judge of wool. You are the only one that's thinking of marrying him. What's the matter--doesn't any girl's father want him?

[_Picking the wool apart._] H'm!

There _is_ a keen demand for handsome young wives nowadays, judging from the way my daughter is besieged.

Your daughter? You speak as if she had had an offer.

_Enter ROSA with the coffee._

H'm, _an_ offer! But I came here to talk about wool! If it were not the Sabbath I would burn a little for you, and you could tell by the smell there is not a shred of cotton in it!

Let the Christian burn it for us, then. Rosa, light that!

[_ROSA burns a little of the wool in the spirit lamp._

[_Laughingly._] If you can smell cotton in that, then the sheep have been eating cotton-seed, and it has sprouted through their shins. Do you smell any cotton? Ah!

No; because I have picked all the cotton out. Rubbish!

[_Putting away packet of wool._] Oh, well, if you don't know a good thing when you see it. Ah! Those cakes of yours, Esther; I remember them, I remember them of old! Let me send my daughter to learn how to make them, will you?

That's the only thing under the sky that my daughter can't do to perfection. Well, how is that son of yours?

Where is he, you had better ask! Unless I stay up till midnight, I never meet him.

Oh, well, a young fellow has to have his day I suppose.