Satan in Goray

wearing a long patched coat which reached to the ground. A red kerchief was wound about his loins. The young men rummaged through his books, ripping the uncut pages, and doing all sorts of damage, but the pack- man made no objection. Mischievous boys played with the embroidered fringed vests and tried on the gilded skull caps. They even dug down deep in the packman's sack and discovered a Book of Esther scroll cased in a wooden tube, a ram's horn, and a small bag containing white, chalky soil from the Land of Israel. Very few people bought; everyone handled the merchandise and seemed to be conspiring to enrage the packman. But he stood woodenly in front of his goods. When they recited the Holy, Holy, Holy, his straw mustaches quivered almost imperceptibly. When asked anything's price he capped his hand to his ear as though he were hard of hearing, thought for a long time, avoiding his questioner's face.
    "What does it matter?" he would finally say in a low hoarse voice. "Give as much as you can." And he extended a tin coin box, as though he wasn't really a packman but was collecting money for some holy purpose.
    Levi, the rabbi's son, invited him for supper, for in his controversy with his father Levi lent his silent support to the Sabbatai Zevi sect. Gathered together were members of the inner circle; all the cabalists apparently sensed that the packman had something of interest to tell. Reb Mordecai Joseph, Rabbi Benish's foe, was amongst them. Nechele, Levi's wife, closed the shutters and stuffed the keyhole so that Ozer's children would not be able to carry on their customary spying. Everyone sat around the table. Nechele offered them onion flatcakes, and set drinks on the table. Reb Itche Mates took only a morsel of bread, which he swallowed whole, but he bade those about him to feast their fill and drink hearty. Perceiving at once that Reb Itche Mates was one of the chosen, they did as he bade. Their foreheads became moist, and their eyes shone with the hope of great times to come. Reb Itche Mates unbuttoned his jacket and drew from the inner pocket a letter written on parchment in Aramaic, in a scribe's script, and with crownlets on the letters like a Torah scroll. The letter was from Abraham Havchini and Samuel Primo, who resided in the Land of Israel. Hundreds of rabbis had put their signatures to this letter, most of them Sephardim with exotic names reminiscent of the Talmudic masters. It became so quiet that Ozer's boys, who were lurking outside the door, heard not even a whisper. The wick in the shard crackled and sputtered, long shadows trembled on the walls, shook back and forth, merged. The well-born Nechele stood beside the oven where she burnt kindling. Her thin cheeks were flaming hot; she glanced sidelong at the men, and absorbed every word.
    Reb Itche Mates sat hunched up, speaking almost in a whisper, divulging mysteries of mysteries: only a few holy sparks still burned among the husks of being. The powers of darkness clung to these, knowing that their existence depended on them. Sabbatai Zevi, God's ally, was battling these powers; it was he who was conducting the sacred sparks back to their primal source. The holy kingdom would be revealed when the last spark was returned whence it had come. Then the ritual ceremonies would no longer hold. Bodies would become pure spirit. From the World of Emanations and from under the Throne of Glory new souls would descend. There would be no more eating and drinking. Instead of being fruitful and multiplying, beings would unite in combinations of holy letters. The Talmud wouldn't be studied. Of the Bible only the secret essence would remain. Each day would last a year, and the radiance of the holy spirit would fill all space. Cherubim and Ophanim would chant the praise of the Almighty and He Himself would instruct the righteous. Their delight would be boundless.
    Reb Itche Mates' speech abounded in homilies and parables from the Torah and Midrash. He was familiar with the names of angels and seraphim, and quoted at length passages from the Book of Trans-migrations and Raziel; all the mansions in heaven were known to him, every detail of the supreme hierarchy. There could be no doubt that here was a most holy man, truly one of the elect. The decision was that all should keep silent and that Itche Mates should spend the night at the home of Reb Godel Chasid, who sat opposite. In the morning they would see what was to be done. Reb Godel Chasid took the packman