“Such being the case,” answered the priest, “we may consider the matter settled and will now bid you good-by.” The priest and burgomaster thereupon took their departure. When they were gone, the members of Reb Shemayah’s household, who had heard with amazement, not unmixed with horror, his declaration of willingness to bear the image, besieged him with questions as to how it was possible for him to think of such a thing. But Reb Shemayah only smiled and answered not a word. In the meanwhile the priest and the burgomaster had a heated and angry discussion. Each blamed the other for the extremely embarrassing position in which they were placed; but the priest smarted most under the reproaches of his colleague in iniquity, for the fact was indisputable that the plot had originated with him, and it was particularly mortifying to him, as a man of presumably superior wisdom, to have committed such an egregious blunder, and to be in danger of ignominious exposure. The upshot of their debate was that Reb Shemayah must be induced to change his mind and withdraw his acceptance of the impossible honor which they had tendered him, and that knowledge of their scheme, and the manner in which it had been frustrated, must be kept from the councilmen and the people in general.
But who should undertake the difficult and unpleasant task of undeceiving Reb Shemayah, a task which, they clearly foresaw, would involve confession of their guilty purpose and practically throwing themselves on the mercy of the Jew, whom they had deliberately plotted to torture and plunder, and who had so cleverly turned the tables upon them? Each desired the other to undertake the disagreeable mission; but finally the burgomaster yielded to the urgent pleadings of the humiliated cleric and consented to visit Reb Shemayah and endeavor to alter his unexpected resolution. Accordingly at a very early hour the following morning—the burgomaster called intentionally so early in order to forestall any attempt of Reb Shemayah to disseminate the news of the distinction he had received—the burgomaster appeared again in Reb Shemayah’s dwelling. Our friend was not in the least surprised to see the burgomaster; in fact, he had expected that either he or the priest would appear, but expressed, as in duty bound, great astonishment at his early visit.
“To what do I owe the honor of this very early call, good friend burgomaster?” he said, with voice and countenance expressive of surprise. “Is there any other service, perhaps, which the community requires of me?”
“No, good friend Shemayah,” said the burgomaster, with halting voice and embarrassed manner; for, in good truth, he felt very cheap indeed. “In fact, I have come to tell you that his reverence, the priest, and I discussed the matter of your acting as image-bearer on our way back from your house last evening, and we came to the conclusion that we had not given enough consideration to your Jewish prejudices; and that we really ought not to insist on your performing an act which is against your conscience. I have, therefore, come to tell you that you are released from the function for which we had selected you, and that you need not act as image-bearer.”
“Aha,” thought Reb Shemayah, “so this is the direction from which the wind blows! Well, you shall not get off so easy. You and your reverend companion must first be taught a little lesson of consideration for the feelings of others, and be discouraged from similar financial ventures in the future.” Then he spoke aloud and in a tone of the utmost courtesy and deference to the burgomaster. “I thank you, most worthy burgomaster, for the delicacy and consideration for my conscientious scruples which your words display, and which are no doubt felt also by his reverence, the priest. But I have also reflected well on the matter, and I shall ask no special privilege as a Jew. As his reverence so well explained last night, it is a matter of civic obligation; and I do not wish, as a Jew, to shirk any civic duty, or to have it said that my co-religionists are unwilling to perform any task which the state imposes upon them. I do not ask, therefore, for any exemption, but shall cheerfully perform the task assigned me, and appreciate greatly the honor which I have received in being selected for such a function.”
The face of our worthy burgomaster was a sight to behold during the delivery of these words, and his feelings would beggar description. He was a picture of limp despair, of utter dismay and dejection. He saw clearly that there was no other escape from the predicament than to make a clean breast of it, which he accordingly resolved to do. It is unnecessary to enter here into all the details of conversation, to repeat the faltering words of the confused and embarrassed burgomaster, and the indignant outbursts of virtuous wrath on the part of Reb Shemayah. Suffice it to say, that the burgomaster made an abject confession of the whole despicable plot, and begged Reb Shemayah to have consideration with him and his companion in guilt and not bring disgrace on them both; which Reb Shemayah, after his first outburst of wrath had subsided, consented to do, but only on condition that the priest, as the instigator of the plot, should visit him and personally ask his pardon.
Both conspirators were glad enough to settle the affair in this way. The priest appeared before Reb Shemayah the following evening with an humble apology, which the latter accepted, but not until he had read the abashed cleric a good lesson on the moral aspects of the priestly vocation, and on the duty of respecting the feelings and scruples of those who do not think as we do. Nothing ever became officially known of the episode, but the facts leaked out somehow, as facts of this kind have a way of doing, and became the common talk of the village for a considerable time. The incident caused Reb Shemayah to be looked upon in a somewhat different light than hitherto. He had previously enjoyed the reputation of rectitude and piety; after this he acquired a name for shrewdness and wit, so that the phrases, “shrewd as Reb Shemayah,” “sharp as Reb Shemayah” vied in popularity in Nordheimer speech with the other phrases, “good as Reb Shemayah” and “pious as Reb Shemayah.”
And thus this good and noble man lived his allotted tale of years in his rustic home, respected and loved; yes, revered by all. As the French king said, “L’Etat, c’est moi,” so Reb Shemayah could have said had he been egotistical enough to have thought of such a thing, “The Nordheim Kehillah; I am it.” He was the one dominant, overshadowing figure in the whole Nordheim community; so that Nordheim became known as the place where Reb Shemayah lived. And Nordheim people, when away from home and stating whence they came, would often hear in comment the words, “Oh, that is where Reb Shemayah lives.” Some of the less appreciative members of the congregation resented slightly this preëminence, which was shared by no one except Reb Shemayah’s excellent wife, Perla. Indeed, the story-teller of the congregation, who was also the communal wag and humorist, suggested that as Reb Shemayah was equivalent to the whole Kehillah, the text of the Yekum Purkan prayer, in which the blessings of heaven are implored on Sabbath mornings for the congregation, should be altered so as to restrict the benediction to Reb Shemayah and his worthy spouse. He actually proposed a new wording with that purpose in view, which, as it is not devoid of a certain wit and may be interesting to those acquainted with the synagogue ritual, I shall not refrain from giving in this place.
Yekum purkan min Shemaya
Für die Perla und Reb Shemayah