The Ghetto: A Drama in Four Acts
Part 1
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THE GHETTO
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THE GHETTO
A Drama in Four Acts
Freely Adapted from the Dutch of HERMAN HEIJERMANS, JR.
By CHESTER BAILEY FERNALD
London: William Heinemann MDCCCXCIX
Copyright, 1899
All rights, including Acting rights in the English Language, reserved
Entered at the Library of Congress Washington, U.S.A.
_DRAMATIS PERSONAE_
RAFAEL. SACHEL. AARON. RABBI HAEZER. SAMSON. DANIEL. MORDECAI. ESTHER. REBECCA. ROSA.
_A Watchman. Inhabitants of The Ghetto._
_The action takes place in The Ghetto, Amsterdam, at the present time._
_The incidental music composed by Mr. N. CLIFFORD PAGE._
_PREFACE_
_In the not wholly grateful task of adapting this play to the present demands of the English and American stage, partly as those demands have been interpreted by others than me, numerous alterations have been thought necessary. I hope that this adaptation does not conceal the fact that Mr. Heijermans' original is a work of very admirable unity and force._
_CHESTER B. FERNALD._
_September, 1899._
THE GHETTO
THE FIRST ACT
SCENE: _A street in the Ghetto in Amsterdam. On the left the shop of SACHEL. Running down from the centre to the right, diagonally, the wall of a canal; a bridge across the canal; a vista of the river and the city at the back._
_Enter SAMSON and DANIEL._
SAMSON.
Have trade and traffic gone to bed for Sabbath?
DANIEL.
Not till old Sachel shuts his shop. See, he sits there in the gloom like a spider waiting in its web. He would keep open all night for two cents.
SAMSON.
He's waiting for his son. What if the old man knew that Rafael spent half his time composing music--music for which he gets nothing? He would lock the door on Rafael to-night.
DANIEL.
Let him! The world shall hear from Rafael. Wait till we play his music.
SAMSON.
But he still has time to devote to his father's Christian servant-maid.
DANIEL.
Eh--you have noticed too? [_They look into the shop._] Ah, see her! I say, she's the handsomest in Amsterdam--high or low! You had better be careful what you say about her to Rafael.
SAMSON.
I am. When I spoke a trifle lightly of her, he offered to smash my head with your 'cello.
DANIEL.
And you apologized?
SAMSON.
Not wanting it smashed.
DANIEL.
Meaning your head.
SAMSON.
No, meaning your 'cello. But I shall proceed with her. She is unhappy--I think she needs _me_!
_Enter MORDECAI, with a piece of lace, by way of the bridge. He goes into the shop._
I thought we had done with trade in this street. There goes an old sheep to pawn his fleece. I say--bah!
DANIEL.
So will the old sheep say "Bah!" when Sachel has shorn him. See the old man feeling it over--they say he can tell brass from gold by the touch of his talons.
SAMSON.
It is well the old man is blind; if he saw the look of disgust on the girl's face--ay, she'd like to rush out in the air!
DANIEL.
If she hates trade so, why does she stay in the Ghetto?
SAMSON.
She has nowhere else to go--she doesn't appear to want to get away. Are they cursing each other over a copper? See the curl of her lip! Look! look!
[_ROSA rushes out of the shop._
ROSA.
[_As if stifling._] Oh! oh! they have no souls--there is not a soul among them, save Rafael's!
[_She sees DANIEL and SAMSON._
SAMSON.
Good evening!
ROSA.
[_Coldly._] Good evening.
SAMSON.
It's a fine evening, isn't it?
ROSA.
No.
SAMSON.
No, I suppose not. Is Rafael at home?
ROSA.
No.
SAMSON.
No--he stays away, he is in love?
DANIEL.
With whom?
SAMSON.
With somebody--somebody. I read between the notes of his music. He's fallen in love and he's put it all into music. [_Insinuatingly._] Do you know who she is?
ROSA.
[_She gets a broom and begins to sweep._] How should I, a Christian, be so deep in his confidence?
SAMSON.
As deep in his confidence as need be. But do not trust him too much. Ah--[_quasi-regretful_]--and I am his friend. But it is love that has made a fool of me.
ROSA.
No, I should not lay it to the door of love.
SAMSON.
It _is_ love. If I could look into such eyes as yours, and my heart not smoke like--like a burning haycock, then I should be more fool than now.
ROSA.
You could not be. With whom do you mean to insinuate that Rafael is carrying on a love affair?
SAMSON.
Oh, not you!
ROSA.
Oh! With whom, then?
SAMSON.
[_Whispering._] To-morrow, when you are alone----
[_He pauses, hearing SACHEL in the shop._
SACHEL.
No, no!
MORDECAI.
But----
SACHEL.
No, no, no!
_Enter MORDECAI, followed by SACHEL._
MORDECAI.
Half a guilder! Half a guilder! Oh! if it isn't worth four guilders, it is worth nothing.
[_He begins to roll up his lace._
SACHEL.
If it is worth four guilders to you, keep it. H'm! Because I am blind, cannot I feel with my fingers? No, it is tatters.
MORDECAI.
It's beautiful. I leave it to any one.
SACHEL.
So do I. I leave it to Rosa; she's a Christian, she knows nothing about trade. Rosa!
ROSA.
[_Coming to him._] Yes.
SACHEL.
Am I not right? Is it not charity to offer him half a guilder for that lace?
DANIEL.
[_Mischievously._] A beautiful piece of lace!
SAMSON.
A splendid piece of lace; he could not have come honestly by that!
SACHEL.
I have not summoned every idler in the street. Rosa!
[_Exeunt DANIEL and SAMSON._
MORDECAI.
[_Whispering to ROSA._] My son is dead, how can I bury him without money? It was his mother's--the only fragment I have left of hers----
SACHEL.
I hear you; is he giving you something?
ROSA.
[_In compassion._] It is not so badly worn; surely it is worth four guilders!
SACHEL.
You lie! I say you lie! Do you think you can make a fool of me--you thieves! Ah, I know you are standing there, twisting your cheeks at me! But you shall not rob me; no, no! Give me that! [_He takes the lace and examines it with his fingers._] I knew it! It has been patched--by some bag-maker. You minx--you hussy! Do I feed you that you may rob me? Everybody lies to me--but they do not deceive me! I will not give half a guilder--only thirty cents.
MORDECAI.
Sachel! I must have _two_ guilders! He died in my arms. You have a son--for pity's sake--for pity's sake!
SACHEL.
Have you had pity on my eyes? You say this lace is whole; it is a lie. You say your son is dead; that is a lie too, for all I know. I'll give no more--no more.
MORDECAI.
Oh! Oh! Give me that! You black-hearted miser. [_He snatches it._] You are rich--you have known me for years--and you would let my son be buried in the pauper's field! A curse on you! May your son _live_ to hate you--desert you--disown you--curse you, as I do!
[_Exit MORDECAI._
SACHEL.
Rosa! Run and offer him a guilder and a half! Run!
ROSA.
Mordecai! He will not stop! He's gone!
SACHEL.
With a curse! Could I be more cursed than I am? Come here. You have driven the trade from my door.
ROSA.
I?
SACHEL.
Yes, you--you misbegotten wretch! Had you not whined and pleaded for him, he would have taken a guilder. If you, too, had said, "Tatters! nothing but tatters." Why did you not?
ROSA.
Because I will not lie for you!
SACHEL.
I employ you to do my bidding! What are you doing now--idling, wasting precious time? [_ROSA begins to sweep._] In the middle of last night--were you up?
ROSA.
No!
SACHEL.
[_Ironically._] You will not lie for me! Why are you so disturbed about it?
ROSA.
I am not disturbed.
SACHEL.
I say you are. You are red in the face--I know it. Why were you up?
ROSA.
I was not up.
SACHEL.
I heard you! I heard you, and you cannot deceive me. Did I not lie awake until Rafael came home? It struck twelve as he went to his room. It was not five minutes later when I hear steps along the hall--yes, I can hear steps, though the shoes be off! I heard steps, and then your door opened. Why do you stop? I heard your door open; what does it mean?
ROSA.
Do you mean that--that some one came--some one opened my door?
SACHEL.
Some one--some one! I mean you--you opened it--and you went downstairs. Why? What were you doing while you thought I slept?
ROSA.
I did not leave my room.
SACHEL.
And she will not lie for me! If you are honest, why does your voice tremble so? You were up, and why? If I miss anything;--do you want to be turned into the streets? [_He hears the noise of a window opening._] Who's that? Some fresh enemy? I cannot move but some one's hand is raised against me! Enemies--enemies I cannot strike nor battle with--because I cannot see!
ROSA.
I--I am not your enemy!
SACHEL.
How do I know? Have I ever looked into your eyes? Ay, if I could look into them at this moment, God knows what I should find. You are not my enemy! Why, then, were you up last night prowling about my house--at midnight--when my son--when Rafael;--Rafael--? Come here! [_She comes to him._] Your hand! Was it Rafael? Did Rafael--? No, no, my beautiful boy--with such as you--an ugly, misshapen wench like you! [_Pause._] Unless--unless they lied to me! Did not Esther sniff and say that you were white and thin, when we rescued you from pauperdom--when you were threatened with the streets--you thankless vagabond? They knew I would not have had you else! Rafael said that "pretty" was no word for such a face as yours; did he mean that you were beautiful;--did he mean that? Your form--yes, your form! [_He passes his hand over her._] Hold still! Do you fear an old blind wreck like me? Ay, you are like a Madonna, damn you! Your face--hold still--your nose--[_he passes his hand over her face_]--your brow--your chin;--they lied to me! You are beautiful! It _was_ Rafael!
ROSA.
What do you mean? I tell you I am not beautiful!
SACHEL.
Are you ugly? Do you swear you are ugly?
ROSA.
You cannot see the colour of my skin--you cannot see the rings under my eyes.
SACHEL.
You swear--do you swear you are not beautiful?
ROSA.
I may have been pretty once--but now----
[_She is silent._
SACHEL.
[_Thoughtfully._] When she says that--h'm! H'm! No woman would deny her beauty if she had it. No, no! H'm! Rafael--my beautiful boy; why, I only mentioned it to frighten you!
_Enter ESTHER, over the bridge._
ESTHER.
What's the matter now--you troublesome old person?
SACHEL.
My sister--my compassionate sister! H'm! I know you're waiting, watching my face from day to day for a sign of death.
ESTHER.
You silly old man, does any one put a pin in your way?
SACHEL.
Any one? Every one! Has she not just driven away a customer because she would not----
ESTHER.
I don't want to hear about it!
SACHEL.
H'm! A little money--it is nothing! I have given my life for it--and my eyes--my eyes! By God's right, do not the blessings of thrift belong to me? And here I drag my gloomy, empty life away, with a son who brings me nothing, a sister who watches me like a vulture and this hussy who drives my customers to curse me!
ESTHER.
Who do you think gave me this letter for you? Aaron.
SACHEL.
Aaron! He hasn't been near us for years! What does he want? Read!
ESTHER.
When the Sabbath has already begun?
SACHEL.
Well, what do we have this Christian for? Rosa!
_Enter ROSA._
ESTHER.
Rosa, open this letter and read it.
ROSA.
[_Reading._] "I shall be at your house to-night, on a matter of business.--AARON HEINE." [_Exit ROSA._
SACHEL.
Business? What business can he have with me?
ESTHER.
His daughter, I think. There was something in the way he spoke that made me feel it!
SACHEL.
To marry his Rebecca to my son. H'm! I'll make him speak first. I'll worry him! I'll make him sweat.
ESTHER.
Rosa! Put up the shutters.
SACHEL.
I will not trust her to put up the shutters.
ESTHER.
You never had a better servant in your house.
SACHEL.
[_Fetches shutters and awkwardly adjusts them._] She is a Christian. It is bad luck--it was wrong for us to take her in.
ESTHER.
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?
SACHEL.
Not yet.
ESTHER.
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.
_Enter ROSA._
SACHEL.
Who can prove it? It is a good story to work upon our sympathies. They cannot deceive me. I will have no sympathies.
ESTHER.
[_To ROSA._] Isn't it warm.
[_They look off over the river._
ROSA.
But aren't those clouds beautiful? They are bringing a blessed rain; but they lower as if they brought a pestilence.
ESTHER.
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!
ROSA.
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!
ESTHER.
Which God, Rosa?
ROSA.
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.
ESTHER.
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!
SACHEL.
I'll make him speak first.
_Enter AARON._
AARON.
[_To SACHEL._] Good evening. [_No answer._] What's the matter with you, old friend? I have a bit of business with you.
ESTHER.
Good evening. Rather late for business, isn't it? Sit down.
AARON.
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.
ESTHER.
H'm! I fancy not with you, now.
SACHEL.
What did you come about?
AARON.
Eh? Well, I have something I think you'll want.
SACHEL.
What?
AARON.
Eh? Why, some wool, I'll sell it cheap. Feel that! As soft as my daughter's cheek!
[_Gives SACHEL a packet of wool._
SACHEL.
[_Returning the packet._] I didn't think you'd have anything I wanted.
ESTHER.
No; it wouldn't interest us. Have some coffee, Rosa!
AARON.
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!
SACHEL.
[_Breaking the fibres, and listening to the sound they make._] His daughter! Cotton! More cotton! His daughter!
AARON.
I will match her with your son, any day!
SACHEL.
My son is in no hurry to marry.
AARON.
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?
SACHEL.
[_Picking the wool apart._] H'm!
AARON.
There _is_ a keen demand for handsome young wives nowadays, judging from the way my daughter is besieged.
SACHEL.
Your daughter? You speak as if she had had an offer.
_Enter ROSA with the coffee._
AARON.
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!
SACHEL.
Let the Christian burn it for us, then. Rosa, light that!
[_ROSA burns a little of the wool in the spirit lamp._
AARON.
[_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!
[_Exit ROSA._
SACHEL.
No; because I have picked all the cotton out. Rubbish!
ESTHER.
Have some coffee?
AARON.
[_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?
ESTHER.
Certainly.
AARON.
That's the only thing under the sky that my daughter can't do to perfection. Well, how is that son of yours?
SACHEL.
Where is he, you had better ask! Unless I stay up till midnight, I never meet him.
AARON.
Oh, well, a young fellow has to have his day I suppose.
SACHEL.
Did I have my day? I was one of eight souls who crawled and starved in a room half as big as my shop parlour. I have known hunger to gnaw at my belly, till I cried myself to sleep, and dreamt that I was disembowelled. And my grandmother died, and my little sister too, from sheer want. Sheer want! At his age I could have bought and sold him twice a day. The fellow is a worthless vagabond!
AARON.
H'm. I suppose, if the truth be said, he _is_ a worthless vagabond!
SACHEL.
You--what affair is it of yours? You would give half you have--and that wouldn't be much--to have him in your household!
AARON.
Ha! My daughter has no haste to wed.
SACHEL.
Who said anything about wedding? It is you that seem to have the subject on your mind.
AARON.
With my girl? With Rebecca? You rely too much upon your son's good looks and upon the lot of money he will have.
SACHEL.
Who said he would have a lot of money? I am not dead yet.
AARON.
Even so, your only child is not going empty-handed.
SACHEL.
He will go empty-handed, by the Commandments, if he does not obey his father! And, in any case, I have not slaved my eyes away that another man's child may be fed.
_Enter REBECCA._
AARON.
Still he must marry some day.
SACHEL.
Marry whom? No girl who does not bring twelve thousand guilders shall marry my son!
[_Exit ESTHER._
[_REBECCA pauses at the bridge unobserved and interested._
REBECCA.
[_Aside._] They are getting on!
AARON.
[_Swelling with indignation._] Twelve thousand guilders! Twelve thousand guilders! A snap of the finger! And is your son a prince? You talk like an imbecile. Suppose some one was fool enough to give his daughter such a dowry, what would you give your son?
SACHEL.
Nothing! He has his share in the business--or will have.
AARON.
Oh, you're enough to make a man jump into the sea!
SACHEL.
Did I ask anything of you? Why should you jump into the sea?
AARON.
Eh, what? Rebecca! How did _you_ happen to be here?
SACHEL.
[_Ironically._] Yes, how did you happen to be here?
REBECCA.
Why, didn't you _tell_ me----
AARON.
[_Waving her away._] We're talking business, Sachel and I!
_Enter ESTHER._
Esther, those cakes are wonderful!
ESTHER.
Thanks! [_To REBECCA._] Look here. [_Showing a photograph--watching her closely._] Rafael is a good-looking boy, isn't he?
REBECCA.
Oh, you'd better let me have this! He wouldn't mind, would he? What a fine likeness--but so sad!
ESTHER.
That's for some nice girl to take out of him.
REBECCA.
[_Tapping the photograph._] And you'll let me----
ESTHER.
Have the picture? With pleasure! Have you seen Isaac's new warehouse?
[_Points up the canal. REBECCA retires to the bridge._
[_Sotto, to AARON._] I like your girl--she's remarkably discreet. When she's married, you'll be lonely enough!
AARON.
[_Sotto._] And when she is married, Esther--[_meaningly_]--may I take me a wife on the same day; one that can bake such cakes as those! [_Aloud._] Esther, there is not another woman in Amsterdam that can bake such cakes as those!
[_The two exchange meaning glances; they advance on SACHEL, as if now in alliance._
REBECCA.
[_Aside._] I don't believe it was about me!
AARON.
But, outside of that, Rebecca is a wonderful housewife, and in the shop--she brings me the trade!
SACHEL.
H'm! She'll never bring you a son-in-law! For you can't spare money to give with her. You need it all in your business.
AARON.
Do I? With my daughter there will go a trifle of eight thousand guilders. [_Pause._
REBECCA.
[_Aside._] It _is_ about me. They are getting on!
AARON.
And he thinks a girl will bring his son a matter of twelve thousand guilders.
_Enter ROSA; she shows that she has been listening and is troubled._
SACHEL.
Let my son tell me he is going to marry a girl with less than twelve thousand! I would give him the choice of starvation. I would lock the door on him.
[_ROSA sees the photograph in REBECCA'S hand._
AARON.
Who's talking of your son? My daughter--Esther, just look at her--such a figure, such a skin--such eyes! Esther, Esther, look at her walk! Look at her walk!
REBECCA.
Is Rafael at home?
ROSA.
No.
ESTHER.
Rafael and Rebecca--that would sound rather well!
AARON.
My dear woman, I won't give twelve thousand guilders.
SACHEL.
And I won't give my son at less!
AARON.
Your son? Did I ask you for your son? Did I?
SACHEL.
Did I ask you for your daughter? What is she to me?
REBECCA.
[_Aside._] Oh, they are really getting on!
AARON.
Oh, my daughter! I wish your son were her equal! If _I_ had such a son----
SACHEL.
I don't want your advice! [_Rises._] You manage your own child. I'll manage mine. [_Starts for shop._
AARON.
You will? You can't manage him. Where is he now? Dallying with some wanton, for all you know! My God, one would think him a second Joseph!
SACHEL.
Do you house him? Do you feed him? Does he trouble you? Speak well of him, or go home!
AARON.
I will go home!
ESTHER.
Sit down! Now talk sense! It's a good match: you both know it's a good match, and so--[_to REBECCA_]--have you seen the repairs to the old bridge?
[_REBECCA moves farther away, leaving the photograph of RAFAEL on the wall._
[_Lowering her voice._] They are both only children. And so, in any case, the money will stay in the family. You let Sachel consider it.
[_ROSA takes the photograph of RAFAEL and hides it behind her._
REBECCA.
[_Aside._] I wonder how Rafael will consider it?
SACHEL.
It costs nothing to consider it, but----
ESTHER.
We'll see you to-morrow.
AARON.
At my house--before service. Come on, Rebecca; I have arranged about the wool. Good-night! [_Exit._
ESTHER.
Good-night!
REBECCA.
Oh, where's my picture of Rafael? [_ROSA drops the photograph into the canal._] It's gone!
[_She looks about for it._
ESTHER.
How could it have gone?
[_REBECCA sees it in the canal._
REBECCA.