“Don’t you worry about that, Reb Tevye,” he says. “She’ll eat better by me every day of the week than by you at your Passover seder!”
“Eat!” I say. “How much can a person eat? A rich man can’t eat the gold in his safe, nor a poor man the stones in his shoes. Just how do you think a Jew as crude as yourself is even going to appreciate her cooking? Why, the hallahs she bakes, her gefillte fish … good Lord, Reb Layzer Wolf, her gefillte fish … lucky is the man who gets to taste it …”
“Reb Tevye,” he says, “you’ll forgive me for saying so, but what does an old prune like you know about it? You don’t know the first thing about anything, Reb Tevye, you don’t even know the first thing about me!”
“If you were to give me all the rice in China,” I say, “I wouldn’t take it for my Tsaytl. Listen here, Reb Layzer Wolf, I don’t care if you have two hundred thousand to your name, you aren’t worth the little toe of her left foot!”
“Believe you me, Reb Tevye,” he says, “if you didn’t happen to be older than me, I’d tell you to your face what a fool you are.”
Well, we must have gone at it hammer and tongs until we were good and sozzled, because when I arrived home it was late at night and my feet felt made out of lead. My wife, may her life be a long one, saw right away how pie-eyed I was and gave me the welcome I deserved.
“Ssshhh, don’t be angry with me, Golde,” I said, feeling so merry that I could have broken right into a jig. “Stop screaming at me, light of my life, and wish me a mazel tov instead!”
“A mazel tov?” she says. “I’ll wish you a mazel tov you’ll never forget! I’ll bet you went and sold our poor brown cow to Layzer Wolf, after all.”
“Oh, it’s worse than that,” I say.
“What?” she says. “You swapped her for a cow of his? Just wait till the poor devil finds out how you cheated him!”
“You’re not even warm yet,” I say.
“For God’s sake,” she says, “out with it! Do I have to pay you money for each word?”
“Mazel tov to you, Golde!” I said again. “Mazel tov to us both. Our Tsaytl is engaged.”
“My God, are you ever potted!” she says. “It’s no joke, the man’s hallucinating! How many drinks did you say you had?”
“Layzer Wolf and I had more than one between us,” I say, “and a bit of punch to wash it down with, but I swear I’m as sober as can be. It’s my pleasure to inform you, my dear brother Golde, that our Tsaytl has had the good fortune to be betrothed to Layzer Wolf himself!”
And with that I told her the whole story from beginning to end, the who, where, when, and all the rest of it, not leaving out an iota. “So help me God now and forever, Tevye,” she said when I was done, “if something didn’t tell me all along that’s what Layzer Wolf wanted. You know what, though? I was frightened to think that maybe nothing would come of it … Oh, thank You, dear God, thank You, thank You, merciful Father! It should only be for the best. Tsaytl should live to grow old and be happy with him, because Frume Soreh, rest her soul, didn’t have such a wonderful time of it; but then she was, God forgive me, an impossible woman who couldn’t get along with a soul, not at all like our Tsaytl. Oh, thank You, thank You, God! What did I tell you, Tevye, you dummy! What’s the use of worrying? If it’s written in the stars, it will walk right in without knocking …”
“There’s no doubt about that,” I said. “It even says in the Bible—”
“Spare us your Bible!” she says. “We have to start planning for the wedding. First we should make a list for Layzer Wolf of all the things that Tsaytl will need. Linen goes without saying. And she doesn’t have a spare set of underthings, not even an extra pair of socks. And then there’s dresses — a silk one for the wedding and two woolen ones, one for summer and one for winter — and house frocks, and lingerie, and a fur coat … no, I want two: a plain cat fur for everyday and a good fox fur for Sabbaths and holidays. She’ll need high-heeled boots too, and a corset, and gloves, and handkerchiefs, and a parasol, and all kinds of other things that a young lady can’t do without …”
“Golde, my dearest,” I said to her, “since when are you such an expert on high fashion?”
“And why shouldn’t I be?” she says. “Don’t you suppose I have eyes? Don’t you think I’ve seen what they wear back home when they step out in Kasrilevke? Just you leave it to Layzer Wolf and me. He’s no pauper, and you can bet he won’t want the whole world calling him cheap. If you have to eat pork, you might as well eat it till it’s running down your chin …”
In short, we talked all night long until I said, “Round up what cheese and butter there is, my wife, and I’ll take it to Boiberik. Not that everything isn’t fine and dandy right here, but we can’t just forget about the business. Haneshomoh lokh, it says — our souls may be God’s but someone better look after our bodies.”
And so at the crack of dawn, before it was light out, I harnessed my horse and wagon and set out for Boiberik. I arrived at the marketplace — oho! (is there any place in the world where a Jew can keep a secret?) — everyone knows all about it and is congratulating me from all sides.
“Mazel tov, Reb Tevye,” they say. “When will the wedding be?”
“Mazel tov to you too,” I say. “But I’m afraid it’s a case of the son growing up before the father has been born.”
“There’s no use trying to pull our leg, Reb Tevye,” they say. “You’ll have to stand us all drinks, you lucky devil. Why, the man is a gold mine!”
“When the gold gives out,” I say, “a mine’s just a hole in the ground. Which is no reason, of course, to be piggish with one’s friends. As soon as I’ve finished my route, the food and drinks are on me. We’ll live it up and to hell with it! Tsoholoh vesomeykhoh, my friends — if beggars can’t be choosers, they may as well be boozers.”
In a word, I finished my rounds in a jiffy as usual and went off to drink a toast with my dear brothers. We wished each other the happiness we all deserved and I started out for home, a bit tipsy and as merry as a lark. I rode through the forest, the summer sun shining down, the trees casting their shadows on either side of the path, a good smell of pine needles all around — this is the life, I thought! I even let go of my horse’s reins and stretched out like a count in a carriage. “Run along without me,” I told the old boy, “it’s time you knew the way yourself”—and with that I threw back my head and broke into a little tune. I had such a holiday feeling in my heart that I even began to sing melodies from the prayer book. There I sat, staring up at the sky and thinking of the words of the hallel prayer. Hashomayim shomayim ladoynai—the heavens belong to God … veha’orets nosan livney odom—but the earth He’s given to us, the human race, so that we can bury each other six feet deep in it and fight for the honor of crying by the grave … Loy hameysim yehallelu yoh—the dead don’t praise God, and why should they?… Ve’anakhnu nevoreykh yoh—yet we poor folk who are still barely alive can’t thank Him enough if He does us a single favor … Ohavti ki yishma—of course I love Him; wouldn’t you if He had cupped a hand to His ear just to listen to your prayers?… Ofafuni khevley moves—there I was, a poor wretch surrounded by worries: one day a cow dies on me out of the blue, the next it’s my luck to run into a schlimazel of a cousin, a Mr. Menachem Mendl of Yehupetz, who walks off with my last cent … Ani omarti bekhofzi—why, I thought the sky had fallen in … Koyl ha’odom koyzev—and that I couldn’t trust a living soul anymore … So what does God do? Oydkho ki anisoni—He taps Layzer Wolf on the shoulder and tells him to marry my Tsaytl, all expenses paid … Which is why I thank You, dear Lord, for having looked down on Your Tevye and decided to lend him a hand. At last I’ll have some pleasure from my children! When I’ll come to visit my Tsaytl in her new home, God willing, I’ll find a grand lady with everything a person could ask for, closets full of fine linen, cupboards full of jam and schmaltz, cages full of chickens, ducks, and geese …