Satan in Goray

His entire fortune consists of one cotton coat, for both Sabbath and weekday wear; one fringed vest worn on his bare body; one pair of cloth trousers; and one prayer shawl, together with two sets of phylacteries. But the Creator is compassionate and He doth feed all His creatures, from the weasel beast to the eggs of the louse. Forty days before Rechele was born it was decreed in Heaven that this seed, the daughter of Reb Eleazar, was to belong to Itche Mates. What more is there to say? Let Rechele agree and the betrothal will take place immediately; God willing, the groom will give the bridal presents in the Land of Israel.
    The following went to see Rechele: Reb Mordecai Joseph the cabalist, Levi the rabbi's son, and Nechele his wife. Reb Mordecai Joseph characteristically struck his crutch on the floor and admonished Rechele that Reb Itche Mates was a holy man who fasted from Sabbath to Sabbath, so it would be an honor to have him as her husband, and the town where he settled would be protected from evil. Levi the rabbi's son bit his underlip and fixed his glance on the girl's face. Dismissing the men, Nechele under-took to arrange matters as one who understood women. Nechele's shoulders were covered with a Turkish shawl; she wore a silk kerchief on her head, as though it were the Sabbath, and two large gold earrings dangled from her ears. After the fashion of daughters of good family, her ears had been pierced many times. Self-importantly she sat down on the bench used to prepare meat dishes, rested her feet on a footstool, and motioned the girl to a place opposite--the bench used for dairy dishes. Then she blew her nose loudly, wiped her fingers on the voluminous train of her cloth dress, and spoke as follows: "Don't put on airs, Rechele, for your father is a poor man, and has left you in God's care. Besides, you are not well (God save us!). People are already talking and you'll end up in disgrace. Now that you have someone who wants you, let your head be covered and take him. And if it turns out that he doesn't please you, there's always the bill of divorcement."
    Then did Rechele, she who was reputed to be half-witted, cover her face with her delicate hands, bend over and begin to cry softly, bewailing her fortune--and she wept as one who has all her wits about her. Her long hair nearly touching the floor, her girlish shoulders quivered. As Nechele spoke the girl sobbed. Her breasts trembled, and she could not utter a word. She was still whimpering when Nechele, who was used to both the screams of women in birth and the shrill mourning of brides, rose and left. A thin smile played about Nechele's lips when she later said to the menfolk: "Ah well, she's not mad at all! Fetch Reb Eleazar home, and she will put on the bonnet soon enough."
    Reb Itche Mates' friends collected a few coins and sent a runner to the villages, to locate Reb Eleazar and bring him back. The messenger had been away several days, and there was still no word. People whispered anxiously that both Reb Eleazar and the messenger had been killed in the village of Kotzitza. There was a magician in that hamlet who, it was said, shrank human heads. Meanwhile Reb Itche Mates waited in the dark room in Reb Godel Chasid's home. All day long he sat swaying over the appendix to the Zohar, and working out numerical combinations of the names of Yaweh. At night, when everyone else was asleep, he stole out of Reb Godel Chasid's house and went to the bathhouse, which was situated between the infirmary and the old graveyard. Against the infirmary door rested the purification board awaiting a new corpse. In the moonlight the half-sunken tombstones looked like toadstools. Entering the bathhouse Reb Itche Mates lighted a piece of kindling and held it up like a torch. The walls were black with soot. Cats jumped from bench to bench, silently pursuing each other, with fiery eyes. The scorched stones lay cold and scattered near the oven. Reb Itche Mates took off his clothes. His body was covered with a heavy growth of yellow hair. It was scarred by the thorns and thistles on which he had mortified himself. Silently he went down to the pool by way of the crooked stone steps, noiselessly slipped into the water, submerged himself without a splash, and disappeared for a few minutes. Slowly and cautiously, like some water creature, he lifted his drenched head. Two and seventy times did he immerse himself, according to the numerical signification of the letters Ayin and