The Collected Stories

hastened to cover himself. Upset, and shaking his head, he beckoned her to leave, but Shifra Zirel said, “Don’t be afraid, master, I won’t bite you.”
    She poured a bucket of water over the hot bricks. A hissing noise filled the room, and white clouds of steam quickly rose, scalding Nathan’s limbs. Then Shifra Zirel climbed the steps to Nathan, grabbed the twig broom, and began to flog him. He was so stunned, he became speechless. Choking, he almost rolled off the slippery shelf. Shifra Zirel, meanwhile, continued diligently to whip him and to rub him with a cake of soap she had brought. Finally, having regained his composure, he said, hoarsely, “What’s the matter with you? Shame on you!”
    “What’s there to be ashamed about?” the servant asked airily. “I won’t harm the master …”
    For a long time she occupied herself combing and massaging him, rubbing him with soap, and drenching him with water, and Nathan was compelled to acknowledge that this devilish woman was more accomplished than Roise Temerl. Her hands, too, were smoother; they tickled his body and aroused his desire. He soon forgot that this was the month of Elul, before the Days of Awe, and told the servant to lock the wooden latch of the door. Then, in a wavering voice, he made a proposition.
    “Never, uncle!” she said resolutely, pouring a bucket of water on him.
    “Why not?” he asked, his neck, belly, head, all his limbs dripping.
    “Because I belong to my husband.”
    “What husband?”
    “The one I’ll have some day, God willing.”
    “Come on, Shifra Zirel,” he said. “I’ll give you something—a coral necklace, or a brooch.”
    “You’re wasting your breath,” she said.
    “A kiss at least!” he begged.
    “A kiss will cost twenty-five coins,” Shifra Zirel said.
    “Groszy or threepence pieces?” Nathan asked, efficiently, and Shifra Zirel answered, “Gulden.”
    Nathan reflected. Twenty-five gulden was no trifle. But I, the Old Nick, reminded him that one does not live forever, and that there was no harm in leaving a few gulden less behind. Therefore, he agreed.
    Bending over him, placing her arms about his neck, Shifra Zirel kissed him on the mouth. Half kiss and half bite, it cut his breath. Lust arose in him. He could not climb down, for his arms and legs were trembling, and Shifra Zirel had to help him down and even put on his dressing gown. “So that’s the kind you are …” he murmured.
    “Don’t insult me, Reb Nathan,” she admonished. “I’m pure.”
    “Pure as a pig’s knuckle,” Nathan thought. He opened the door for her. After a moment, glancing anxiously about to make sure he was not seen, he left also. “Imagine such a thing happening!” he murmured. “What impudence! A real whore!” He resolved never again to have anything to do with her.
    IV
Troubled Nights

    Nathan lay at night on his eiderdown mattress, wrapped in a silken blanket, his head propped up by three pillows, but he was robbed of sleep by my wife Lilith and her companions. He had droused off, but was awake; he began to dream something, but the vision frightened him, and he rose with a start. Someone invisible whispered something into his ear. He fancied, for a moment, that he was thirsty. Then his head felt feverish. Leaving his bed, he slipped into his slippers and dressing gown, and went to the kitchen to scoop up a mug of water. Leaning over the barrel, he slipped and almost fell in. Suddenly he realized that he craved Shifra Zirel with the craving of a young man. “What’s the matter with me?” he murmured, “This can only be a trick of the devil.” He started to walk to his own room, but found himself going to the little room where the servant slept. Halting at the doorway, he listened. A rustling came from behind the stove, and in the dry wood something creaked. The pale glow of a lantern flashed outside; there was a sigh. Nathan recalled that this was Elul, that God-fearing Jews rise at dawn for the Selichot prayers. Just as he was about to turn back, the servant opened the door and asked in an alert tone, “Who’s there?”
    “I am,” Nathan whispered.
    “What does the master wish?”
    “Don’t you know?”
    She groaned and was silent, as though wondering what to do. Then she said, “Go back to bed, master. It’s no use talking.”
    “But I can’t sleep,” Nathan complained in a tone he sometimes used with Roise Temerl. “Don’t send me away!”
    “Leave, master,” Shifra Zirel