Out of nowhere, as if she had been hiding beneath the floorboards, the pug-nosed woman appears, snatches a samovar like the wind snatching a leaf, and disappears into the kitchen.
“Now that we’re alone with only four eyes between the two of us,” says Layzer Wolf to me, “you and I can talk business. It’s like this: I’ve been wanting to speak to you for quite a while, Reb Tevye. I even asked your daughter several times to have you come see me. You see, lately I’ve had my eye on—”
“I know you have,” I said. “But it won’t do you any good. It’s out of the question, Layzer Wolf, simply out of the question.”
“But why?” he asks, giving me an astonished look.
“Because there’s no hurry,” I say. “She’s still young. The river won’t catch fire if we wait a little longer.”
“But why wait,” he says, “if you have an offer for her now?”
“In the first place,” I say, “I just told you. And in the second place, it’s a matter of compassion. I simply don’t have the heart.”
“Just listen to him talk about her!” says Layzer Wolf with a laugh. “A person might think you had no others. I should imagine, Reb Tevye, that you have more than enough of them, touch wood.”
“I can use every one I have,” I say. “Whoever envies me should know what it costs just to feed them.”
“Envy?” says Layzer Wolf. “Who’s talking envy? On the contrary, it’s just because they’re such a fine bunch that I … do you get me? Have you ever thought for a minute, Reb Tevye, of all I can do for you?”
“Of course I have,” I say. “And I’ve gotten a headache each time I did. Judging by all you’ve done for me in the past, you might even give me free ice in the middle of the winter.”
“Oh, come,” he says, sweet as sugar. “Why harp on the past? We weren’t in-laws then.”
“In-laws?” I say. “What kind of in-laws?”
“Why, how many kinds are there?” he says.
“Excuse me, Reb Layzer Wolf,” I say, “but do you have any idea what we’re talking about?”
“I should say I do, Reb Tevye,” he says. “But perhaps you’d like to tell me.”
“With pleasure,” I say. “We’re talking about my brown cow that you want me to sell you.”
“Hee hee hee,” he says, chortling. “Your brown cow, no less, that’s a good one … ho ho ho!”
“But what do you think we were talking about, Reb Layzer Wolf?” I say. “Why not let me in on the joke?”
“Why, about your daughter!” he says. “We’ve been talking all along about your Tsaytl! You know I’m a widower, Reb Tevye — it shouldn’t happen to you. Well, I’ve made up my mind; why try my luck again far from home, where I’ll have to deal with all sorts of spooks, flukes, and matchmakers? Here we are, the two of us, both from the same place, I know you and you know me — to say nothing of the party in question, who I’ve taken quite a fancy to. I see her every Thursday in my butcher shop and we’ve even exchanged a few words; she’s on the quiet side, I must say, but not bad, not bad at all! And as for me, touch wood, you can see for yourself: I’m comfortably off, I have a couple of shops, I even own my own house. I don’t mean to boast, but it has some nice furnishings too, and there are hides stored away in the attic, and a bit of cash in a chest. Reb Tevye, why haggle like gypsies about it? Come, let’s shake hands and be done with it, do you get me?”
In short, I sat there listening and couldn’t say a word, the whole thing bowled me over so. For a minute I thought: Layzer Wolf … Tsaytl … why, he’s old enough to be her father … But it didn’t take me long to think again. My God, I told myself, what a godsend! She’ll be sitting pretty with him, on top of the world! So what if he’s a tightwad? These upside-down days, that’s actually considered a virtue. Odom koroyv le’atsmoy—charity begins at home … It’s true the man is a trifle common — but since when can everyone be a scholar? There are plenty of rich Jews, fine people, in Anatevka, Mazapevka, and even in Yehupetz, who wouldn’t know a Hebrew letter if one fell on them; that still doesn’t keep them from being thought highly of — I should only be as respected as they are! How does the verse go? Im eyn kemakh eyn Toyroh—it’s all very well to know the Bible by heart, but you still can’t serve it for dinner …
“Nu, Reb Tevye,” says Layzer Wolf. “Why don’t you say something?”
“What’s there to shout about?” I say, playing hard to get. “One doesn’t decide such things on the spur of the moment. It’s no laughing matter, marrying off your eldest daughter.”
“That’s just it!” he says. “She’s your eldest. Once she’s my wife, God willing, marrying off your second and your third and your fourth will be no problem, do you get me?”
“Amen,” I say. “It’s easy as pie to marry off a daughter. God simply has to find her the right man.”
“But that isn’t what I meant, Reb Tevye,” he says. “I meant that you not only needn’t put up a penny’s dowry for your Tsaytl, or buy her the things a girl needs for her wedding, because I’ll take care of all that myself — you can also trust me to beef up your wallet while I’m at it …”
“Hold on there!” I said. “You’ll forgive me for saying so, but you’re talking just like in a butcher shop. What’s this about beef in my wallet? You should be ashamed of yourself! My Tsaytl, God forbid, is not up for sale to the highest bidder.”
“Ashamed?” he says. “And here I thought I was only being nice! I’ll tell you what, though: for you, I’ll even be ashamed. Far be it from me to object to your saving me money. Let’s just be quick about it, the sooner the better! I want a woman in my house, do you get me?”
“I certainly do,” I say. “For my part, I won’t stand in your way. But I’ll have to talk it over with the missus, because such things are her department. One doesn’t give away one’s eldest daughter every day. You know what Rashi says about it: Rokheyl mevakoh al boneho—that means there’s no one like a mother. And we’ll have to ask Tsaytl too, of course. You don’t want this to be the sort of wedding where everyone turns up but the bride …”
“What kind of a man are you!” he says. “Who asks? Go home and tell them, Reb Tevye, tell them it’s all been decided and that I’ll be waiting beneath the wedding canopy.”
“You musn’t talk like that, Reb Layzer Wolf,” I say. “A young girl isn’t a widow, to be married off at the drop of a hat.”
“Of course she’s not,” he says. “A girl is a girl and a hat is a hat. That’s why I want it settled quickly, because there’s still a whole lot to talk about, pots, pans, and petticoats. But first, Reb Tevye, what say we drink to it, eh?”
“Why not?” I say. “I never turn down a drink. Among friends it’s always appropriate. A man is only a man, as they say, but brandy is still brandy. You’ll find that in the Talmud too.” And with that I began spouting whole passages of Gemara, mixed in with some prayers and a bit of the Haggadah, such as no one ever dreamed of before …
In a word, we put a few drops of brandy beneath our belts without keeping count of how many and then, when old Pug Nose brought the samovar, switched to tea-and-brandy punch, jabbering away all the while in the friendliest of fashions about the wedding, and God knows what else, and the wedding again, until I said, “I hope you realize, Reb Layzer Wolf, what a diamond it is that you’re getting.”
“You hope I realize?” he says. “Do you think I would have asked for her if I didn’t?”
“A diamond,” I say, raising my voice, “and twenty-four carats too! You better take good care of her and not act like the butcher you are …”