THE CHILDREN OF MOSES DAVAR
A Drama in Two Acts
By
Ronald John Vierling
THE CHILDREN OF MOSES DAVAR is a part of BEYOND THE ABYSS, a series of six Judaica plays written between 1989, when Ronald John Vierling returned from study at Yad Vasehem Institute, Jerusalem, Israel, and 1996, when the last play in the series was staged.
BEYOND THE ABYSS is divided into two volumes. The three plays in Volume One are, in the order of their composition, ADAM'S DAUGHTER, COMMON GROUND, and SEDER. The three plays in volume Two are, in the order of their composition, THE ATTIC ROOM, THE TOWER, and THE CHILDREN OF MOSES DAVAR.
For Jennifer Koster
11 . . . the Lord passed by. There was a great and strong wind splitting mountains and shattering rocks . . . ; but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind, an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake. 12 After the earthquake, fire; but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire, a soft barely audible sound of almost breathing.I Kings 19: 11-12
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
| Esther Emma Davar | A Sephardic Jew |
| David Issac Davar | Her older brother |
SETTING
Act One is set in a small open-air courtyard adjoining the Davar residence, in Madrid, Spain. It is simply but tastefully appointed, featuring furniture suitable for intimate gatherings and private conversations as well as a selection of green and flowering plants, which underscore the private atmosphere the courtyard is designed to create.
Act Two is set in a small private dining room reserved for the Bishop of Valencia as well as other visiting dignitaries to the Convent of the Sisters of the Gentle Heart, two miles west of the city of Valencia, Spain, on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea.
Act One
Scene 1
Date: March 4, 1491
Time: 7 P.M.
(Lights come up to full playing level. A young woman enters. She wears an ornate yet modest floor length traditional Spanish Sephardic wrap and a loose fitting scarf over her head, the scarf complimenting the colors of her dress. She is carrying a small tray of breads and meats and a decanter of wine. She places the tray on the table next to the high backed bench. She is preparing to receive her brother, David, who is expected at any moment.)
(Speaking into darkness behind her as she enters carrying the tray.) He'll be here tonight, Rosa. I just know it. His message yesterday said he'd arrived in Barcelona three days ago. How long can it take him to supervise the unloading of a ship? (She places the tray. Then she returns to off stage, bringing a small vase of cut flowers with her when she hurriedly returns, putting the flowers on the table with the tray of foods.)
Rosa, when David comes, send him straight to me. It's been six months. I can't tell you how much I've missed him. (She is arranging the items on the table when David appears in the doorway from which she entered.)
(Turning back over his shoulder and putting a finger to his lips to keep the off-stage figure, Rosa, from announcing his arrival. Raising his voice higher, as if imitating Rosa's voice.) You've missed your handsome brother?
(Responding immediately, almost interrupting before she realizes who has spoken.) I can't tell you how (turning and speaking even as she sees it is David) much. (Almost shouting.) David! (She rushes to him and accepts his open arms.) (They both laugh.)
(Laughing with her at his joke.) Sorry. I couldn't resist. (They step away from each other, returning to a more proper decorum.)
So you missed me, little sister?
Oh, David, you know I did. (Motioning that he should sit down on the bench next to the table of food and wine.) It's been so lonely, being here in this big house all by myself.
Yes. With Father . . . with father gone, the house must be very empty. (Looking at the food.) All of this is for me?
Yes. (She moves to serve him.) Rosa and I made it for you. We started as soon as we got your message.
(Accepting the small glass of wine. He takes a sip.) Good. Very good. (He takes another sip and picks up a piece of bread. He looks at her carefully, holding up the wine glass, gesturing.) Shalom, Esther. And peace be upon this house. (He smiles as he offers her a more personal toast.) To life, dear sister. To your life and happiness. (He takes another sip and sits down.) (Esther sits down in a chair facing him. She looks at him carefully. Then she pours a small cup of tea for herself.)
I was very concerned about you when I was in Alexandria, Esther.
Thank you, David.
(Looking at her carefully.) You said it was lonely being in the house by yourself.
Yes.
Are you saying that no one came to call on you while I was gone? You have friends. Didn't any of them visit? Surely you didn't stay here without any company.
You were gone six months, David.
I know it was six months, but you must have . . .
I know you had to go. (Looking away from him for a moment.) Taking over the business with Grandfather and all. (Turning back to him.) I don't resent what you had to do.
I'm not sure I did it very well. I've spent so many years preparing to be a scholar. I'm not sure I'm much of a trader, especially among the Arabs. They all seemed to know what they were doing. I felt out of place most of the time.
But you get along with people, and you speak Arabic. I'm sure you did very well.
Most of the time I tried to listen. I think that's why the people I met seemed to like me. I certainly heard all kinds of stories.
Which I want to hear.
And which I am eager to tell you. But I want to know what you meant when you said you were lonely. Didn't anyone call on you? I can't believe that none of your friends came to visit. You know so many people.
(Trying to change the subject by offering him a small bowl of meat.) Please, David. It's your favorite.
(Accepts the bowl but continues to look at her.) You didn't answer my question.
And you must have more wine. (She stands up and picks up the decanter and steps closer so she might pour wine into his glass.)
Esther, answer me. Surely you were not alone in this house for six months. I would hate the idea of your not having any company.
(Turns away from him, turning back to her chair but not sitting, trying to avoid answering his question directly.) Rosa was here along with the other servants
Esther, answer me. What's going on?
(Turns back to him.) I visited with Grandfather Moses and Grandmother Evona.
I'm not talking about family. I'm talking about friends.
And Uncle Israel came to visit to make sure I was all right.
(Growing agitated.) Esther, you aren't answering my question.
(Crossing the courtyard.) Tell me about Alexandria? (Still not looking at him.) Has the city changed? Did you find any of your scholar friends? Did you visit with cousin Abraham?
Esther, please.
Did you see Sarah? Is she still being courted by the Levy son? (Trying to hurry.) Is cousin Rachael ever going to have a baby?
Esther, stop and answer . . .
(Turning to him, laughing self-consciously.) Is Yuhuda still as fat as he was when he and his family visited last year?
Esther!
I remember how funny he was when . . .
(Cutting her off.) Esther! (Standing.) Stop! (Esther stops speaking. A moment of silence passes. He is concerned. She is hesitant, almost frightened.)
What's going on? You were alone all of the time I was gone, weren't you? So what I heard was true.
(Turns to him; then looks away, speaking over her shoulder.) And what did you hear?
More than one person in Alexandria took me aside and told me things they'd heard about Madrid.
What did they say about Madrid?
That the church is moving against the Jews again. (Esther turns away. She does not respond.)
Is it true? One rumor even claimed that the King and Queen supported . . .
There have been several important (she is pained to say the word) conversions.
(Correcting her gently, slowly.) Important forced conversions.
(Taking a deep breath, acknowledging his correction.) Yes, forced conversions.
By your friends?
(Turning to him.) Some.
Some? (A silence passes.)
(Gently.) Esther?
Several. (Turning to him.) Many.
(Looking at her; then moving away, speaking to her from over his shoulder.) Ramona Ruiz?
Yes.
(Turning to look at her; in disbelief.) Ramona has . . .
Ramona has been baptized, along with Solomon, her brother.
They've been your best friends since childhood.
I don't think they took that into consideration. Daniel certainly didn't.
Daniel Rojas?
Yes, (slowly, with a trace of bitterness and hurt) Daniel Rojas.
But I thought he was courting you. Father told that he thought Daniel would marry you one day. He wanted Daniel to take over the business so I could continue to study history and theology.
(Somewhat taken aback.) Father never told me that.
Well, he told me. (Shaking his head in disbelief.) And Daniel's father . . . he's one of the most important Sephards in all of Spain. There wasn't anyone father respected more than Simon Rojas. You remember how Father and Simon would sit here in the courtyard. They talked all night sometimes.
Simon Rojas is dead, David.
Dead? What do you mean Simon Rojas is dead?
Three months ago. (Adding quickly.) When it all started.
When all of what started? What happened, Esther?
I don't know. That's why it's so hard. No one will talk about it. Daniel won't say anything to anyone about what happened.
But you can't mean that . . . Esther, you can't mean that Simon Rojas . . .
(Interrupting.) I don't mean anything David. Only that Simon Rojas is dead, and no one will say how or why. They're all afraid.
(A long pause.) Then it's even worse than I heard.
You still haven't told me what you heard?
(David stands. He moves away a few steps. Then he turns back to face Esther.) I met a man. Joseph Samuels. And his family. His wife and four sons. (Taking a deep breath.) They'd come from Leon. They were moving to Alexandria. He didn't want to say much, but I kept asking him questions. Then I'd wait until he finally started to talk. I had to piece things together. I thought he was holding back what he knew about Madrid, as if he didn't want to encourage us to move to Alexandria. I got the feeling he didn't want to compete with our family. But from what you've said, (carefully) Joseph Samuels knew what he was talking about.
What exactly did this Joseph Samuels tell you, David?
(His back to Esther, he waits, as if he is thinking. He turns to Esther.) Esther, Daniel's father, Simon Rojas, he was one of the most dignified men I've ever met. He was always so confident about everything. (Looks at her.) I just can't believe he . . . I just can't believe that he would do such a thing.
I didn't say he did such a thing. No one has said that. That's the problem. No one will say what he did do or what someone did to him. No one will explain. And Daniel has all new friends now. All of my friends who have converted have taken up new friends.
Catholic friends?
Yes.
But we've always had Catholic friends. That's what Father wanted, what Grandfather Moses always taught. You and I, we've been in Catholic homes, and Catholics have been here in this house, in this courtyard. We've all sat right here (gesturing to the bench) and talked long into the night about all sorts of things.
Well, they don't come now, not with the way things are.
Which is what I asked you before. How things are? What's going on?
Rumors, David. Rumors are what is going on.
What sort of rumors?
That things are going to change. That some people, some highly placed people in the church, in the court . . . that some people want things to change.
That's what I'm asking, Esther. How do they want things to change? Who wants things to change?
(She hesitates, as if she is even afraid to say the name. Then she does.) Torquemada.
Torquemada? Juan de Torquemada?
Yes.
The Queen's confessor?
Yes, (affirming with some bitterness) the Queen's confessor.
(Takes a deep breath. Quietly.) All right, Esther, let's hear it. What about him?
It is said, David, that he has great influence over the Queen.
Influence as in anti-Sephard influence?
That is the rumor.
(Starts to turn away from her; then turns back to her, his posture reflecting his frustration.) Why didn't you write and tell me?
You wanted me to write down rumors and send them by courier all the way to Alexandria, Egypt?
Don't you think I should have been told?
And what would you have done? Come home? Uncle Israel said your work was important. Grandfather said your work was important. Grandfather said that things were being finalized that would affect the family for decades, maybe even generations.
You still should have written to me.
And you're confident the letter would have gotten to you?
What do you mean?
You're confident that a letter sent by a young Jewish woman to her brother, a Jewish man from an important Madrid Sephard family . . . travelling in Egypt, travelling among Muslims . . . you believe that such a letter would have gotten out of (a touch of bitterness) Catholic Spain and onto a ship bound for Egypt?
It's that serious?
I don't know what you mean by that serious, David. It's as serious as I've said. There are things being said without being said. In hallways. Behind closed doors. That's what Uncle Israel tells me. At court. In the streets. In private homes.
(Shaking his head in frustration.) I never should have gone.
You had to go. You know people in Alexandria. That's why Grandfather sent you.
Then I should have taken you with me.
That wouldn't have changed anything, David. If we'd both gone then we'd both be coming home now to discover what's happening. (David looks at her for a moment. Then he turns away and moves. She steps closer to the bench. She looks at the table.)
I wanted it to be so joyful.
You wanted what to be so joyful?
Your return. I missed you so much. (She moves to the bench and sits down.) You cannot know how important you are to me. (Hesitates, letting the rest of her thought go unsaid.) (David turns to her.)
You're all I have, David. With both Mother and Father dead.
You also have Grandfather and Grandmother and Uncle Israel and Aunt Sophia and . . .
I know, and I love them. But you're really all I have, David. (David does not know what to say.)
When Ramona returned my note to her unopened. When even Solomon wouldn't come . . .
(Interrupting, trying to save her from saying too much.) Oh, Esther. It's all cruel and unjust. For you. For everybody. (His voice growing more tense.) Sephards have served this country for centuries. Doesn't anyone know that? Doesn't anyone remember anything? My God, how can the court forget? How can the King and Queen forget? When they've needed someone to negotiate with the Muslim, they've sent Jews. We're trusted by both sides. There have been times, very hard times, when Spain's future hung in the balance. Its fate turned on what a Sephard did as an ambassador.
I know, David.
We've had to negotiate peace treaties. We've established trade agreements, translated books from Arabic into Spanish. Books that Spanish scholars needed. We've served every court since . . . since before the fall of the Second Temple in Jerusalem. Since Israel was a great kingdom. We've been here. Some of us have been right here!
David, (urgently) please. Someone will hear you.
This kind of thing has happened before, of course. You know that, don't you? In 1931 Jews were told to convert to the church or face death. So thousands converted. I've read that. My teachers in Alexandria . . . even my teachers in Barcelona, they all know it. They all agree it was unjust. The Catholic church got thousands of highly educated Jews to convert, which meant the Jewish community had to rebuild again. Start all over. Educate another generation. And we did. (Lowering his voice as the tension rises.) We did. (He is silent for a moment. He moves, trying to regather his composure.)
Jews served the Visagoths in the sixth and seventh centuries even before Spain was Spain. And then the Arabs. We were the emissaries for the Muslims in their dealings with Christian Europe. We were their merchants and traders and scholars, just as we'd been for the Visagoths. When the Spanish came, we did the same for them. (Turning away.) What more do they want? We're their (turning to her) court physicians. Just imagine that. Jews have been medical physicians to the kings and queens of every Spanish kingdom since . . . forever. And now, because of who? Juan de Torquemada, the Queen's confessor. Because of Juan de Torquemada, your friends have been told that they must convert? That they must be baptized? That they have to give up their heritage, everything they believe?
(Waits until he finishes. Looks at him carefully.) Yes.
(More quiet. Looks away.) I was told . . . cousin Yehuda said . . . (Turns to her.) He's not just fat, you know. He's really quite intelligent. He's very well read.
David, I didn't mean . . .
He said he has found evidence that our family, the Davar family, has served in the court of Madrid in one capacity or another since 711, when the Muslims were still here. 711! Can you imagine that? Our family. That's more than 700 years. The Spanish haven't been here for 700 years. Not in Castille!
I know, David. I know. Grandfather told me. He sat with me for hours evening after evening talking to me about our history.
He did?
You know I like to learn, David. You're not the only person in this family who's interested in history.
I know that. I didn't mean to suggest you weren't interested. I just didn't know Grandfather had taken the time.
To talk to me, you mean? (Embarrassed by the implication of his remark, he does not reply. His facial expression gives him away.)
Well, he did. He told me things that even you've never talked about before.
Such as?
Such as the Abravanel family.
What about the Abravanel family?
That they trace their family all the way back to King David in Jerusalem. That there have been Jews here in Spain since the fall of the First Temple. Not the Second Temple, David. The Jews who came here during the Diaspora found other Jews already here, Jews who had come after the fall of King Solomon's Temple, the First Temple.
Well, he was right. (Hesitates.) Did he tell you about our scholars?
He talked about Moses Maimonides. He spent one whole evening reading to me from Maimonides's work.
Did he tell you how the Maimonides family had been driven from Spain by the Almohades?
Yes. Muslims who hated the Jews. He explained how the family left in 1146.
Did he tell you about Solomon Gabirol, the poet and philosopher? Or Abraham Ezra, the biblical scholar?
He talked about Abraham Ezra.
And Judah Halevi?
Yes. He read some of Judah Halevi's poetry to me. He even had me memorize a passage from the poem Halevi wrote when he was emigrating to Jerusalem. (She looks at David carefully, as if waiting for guidance.) Each time he visited with me here or each time I would visit with Evona and him, he would have me recite the lines.
They must have been important to him.
Yes, they must have been. He would sit with his eyes closed when I recited.
What were the lines?
You want me to recite them for you?
Will you recite them for me?
Right now?
Yes. (Adding with more tenderness.) I'm interested.
(Standing, somewhat nervous.) Grandfather always had me stand when I recited for him. (David nods but does not respond. He looks at her and waits for her to begin.)
Has a flood come and laid the world waste? For dry land is nowhere to be seen. There is neither man, nor beast, nor bird. Have they all perished, all lain down in torment and died? If only I could see a hill or valley, I would be comforted; even a desert would delight me. I look in every direction, and there is nothing but sea and sky and ship and leviathan churning the deep, until it seems that the abyss is white with age! Deceitfully, the sea covers the ship, as though it had taken it by theft.(David closes his eyes, as if he knows the lines that are coming. Esther sees that he has done so, but she continues nonetheless.)
The sea is in turmoil, but my soul is full of joy, for she is drawing near to the temple of her God.(Esther looks at David as she finishes. She hesitates for a moment.)
You closed your eyes when I got to the last lines.
(David opens his eyes.) Did I close my eyes?
Yes. Just like Grandfather. (She returns momentarily to her recitation voice and posture.)
The sea is full of turmoil, but my soul is full of joy, for she is drawing near to the temple of her God.
(Nodding as she finishes reciting.) Yes, I did close my eyes.
(Carefully.) Why did you do that, David?
(Turning away for a moment, not answering her.) Grandfather has asked that you learn very important things, Esther.
He said they were things I needed to know, things he wanted me to remember. But why did you close your eyes? Why did he close his eyes?
Did he tell you about Samuel ha-Magrid?
David, you aren't answering my question.
(Snapping at her.) Did he tell you anything about Samuel ha-Magrid?
(Startled by his sudden temper.) I don't think so. I don't remember anything about Samuel ha- . . . (she stumbles over the pronunciation of haMagrid) whatever.
(Quickly, with some edge.) Magrid. ha-Magrid.
(Taken aback.) David . . . (her tone of voice indicating her hurt.)
If you're just going to learn about us Jews in Spain, he'd be a good one to study, because he wasn't just a poet and a scholar. He was also the commander of the Spanish army in Granada during the eleventh century. Think of that. A Jew commanding the Spanish army of Granada.
David, please, not so loud. Come sit. Come eat.
(He does not sit.) We Jews belong here more than King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella. Everything we are, we became right here. That's why we call ourselves Sephard. We don't just call ourselves Jews. We're Spanish Jews. Sephardim.
Please David. Someone will hear. Someone passing by. (After a moment, David comes slowly to the table. He moves a chair so he can both be closer to her and face her.)
(Holding out his glass of wine.) Here. (David takes the glass of wine. She takes up her cup of tea. They wait for another moment, then they start to drink. She looks at him.)
I'm sorry, David.
You're sorry about what?
When you returned . . . (She breaks off her sentence.)
(Looking at her, sitting.) When I returned . . . what?
I didn't want to talk about (she turns and looks at him) what's happening.
Esther, you can't ignore what's happening. You can't not talk about what's going on.
I know. But just for the first night, I wanted you to tell me stories.
(Smiling.) You thought I'd have stories?
You've been telling me stories for as long as I can remember.
And every one has been true, Esther.
I know. That's why they've always been so wonderful. You see things in such a special way. You always know exactly what to say and how to . . . (She stops.) Oh, goodness, David, I almost forgot. I got so excited. There's a letter for you from Grandfather. (She reaches into her dress and takes out a letter. She hands it to David.) He had it delivered yesterday morning. He thought that you'd be home last night.
(Taking the letter.) I thought so too. (Opening the letter and starting to read.) But unloading a ship. (He shrugs his shoulders as he continues reading.) (Esther waits while he does so.)
Is it important?
Grandfather says I am to come to him as soon as I am home. (He stands.)
Right now? This late?
He says immediately. Without delay.
(Standing.) Should I come with you?
I don't know.
Do you think it's about trade? About the business?
He doesn't say. He only says (looking at the letter again) that it's important. He says I must come without anyone knowing. (Looks at the letter again and reads.) That I should not enter by the front door. I am to come through the orchard so I can enter through the side door that leads to his study.
Enter through the side door?
That leads to his study.
Oh, David.
Yes, oh David.
Why would he have you do that?
I don't know, Esther. But it sounds very serious. (Stepping away from Esther, as if he is going to leave immediately.) I think Moses Davar is very, very serious. (Lights fade to black.)
| Scene One | Scene Two | Scene Three | Scene Four |
Copyright 1995/1996 Ronald John Vierling
For production information, please contact Joyce Davidsen at Celnor House, 407-677-6288.
A Teacher's Guide to the Holocaust
Produced by the Florida Center for Instructional Technology,
College of Education, University of South Florida © 2005.