Judith Trachtenberg: A Novel

by Karl Emil Franzos

"Yes, certainly! I do not intend to excuse Wladko. But be honest, my dear count. Would you have said anything if she had been ugly?"

"Yes," said Agenor, seriously. "I do not love the Jews, as you know; quite the contrary; and not because of my experience with them as a young officer. But I find it quite natural that all creatures on earth should protect themselves with their own weapons. Theirs are trickery and money. I have frequently asked myself whose fault it is that they use such weapons. They are often men with splendid abilities, and in many ways more moral than we. I acknowledge it is very largely our own fault. We are antagonistic; we knock them down; they bite us in the heels. So, without pondering over whose fault it is, I place myself in the ranks of those to whom I belong, by blood and position."

"But, my dear count!" interrupted the official. "As if it required any words! Do you fancy I like the Jews?"

"Your position is not mine," responded Agenor, curtly. "As judge, you cannot be a party man; but I, as a private individual, may, and, as the head of an old family, must be one. For in the contest my class is being ruined. It cuts me to the heart to know this, for I think much of this class, its necessities and its obligations. We aristocrats--I mean we true, pure-blooded, wealthy old families--are the only firm pillars of the state, as, indeed, we Polish aristocrats are the only hope of our nation. There is no other besides us--the middle class scarcely exists, and the peasantry are against us. Look over the country; one man after another, one family after another, falls and sinks into oblivion--through foolishness, idleness, and bad management, I allow. But could we incur debts so readily if there were no Jews in the country? Who is the inheritor? The Jew! Who has possession of the estates of the Wolczinskis, which a hundred years ago were enormous? Armenians, who hold them for the Jews, since they are prohibited from owning real estate themselves."

"Very true," responded Wroblewski. "And for this very reason you should not shoot the last of the Wolczinskis!"

"I do not propose to," said the count, with a smile; "although it might prove the best thing for him, and others like him. For what will become of them? Only a few can straighten out their affairs by marriage with the bourgeoisie, and this is a misfortune--a humiliation. We have not yet gone as far as they have in the Western provinces, where Count Wagenspergh recently married an Eskeles. Is that to happen with us? The first rule in this contest should be, no social intercourse with Jews--no pulling-down of barriers."

"Is that a reproach?" inquired the magistrate, in a hurt tone. "You yourself wished it;" and he told how he had interpreted the count's words.

"Well, yes, you understood me so," said the count, in confusion. "True, you told me the girl often came to your house. But it was foolish of me, and my folly has been severely avenged. Do you think it pleasant for me to fight a duel on account of a Jewess? But it is always the way. We turn from the beaten path for one step, and it proves to be a mile in the end. It was the first time I had met a Jewess in society; but being there, she was to be considered a lady like the rest. When the insult was offered, she was in my vicinity, and, therefore, under my protection; and such would have been the case, no matter how plain she might have been. However, this supposition does not count, as Judith is beautiful--very beautiful, unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?"

"Yes." The count looked down sadly, even gloomily. "My dear Wroblewski, if I were not aware that you knew me to be the reverse of a saint, I would be ashamed, of the confession, that since my first sight of that face I--but words cannot express it. In short, that it is a great pity that she is a Jewess, and a--"