THE CHILDREN OF MOSES DAVAR
A Drama in Two Acts
By
Ronald John Vierling
Act Two
Scene 4
Date: April 2, 1492
Time: 10 P.M.
(Lights come up to playing level on the private dining room of the convent of the Sacred Order of the Gentle Heart. David is in the room, wearing his bishop's garb but caped for riding. A second robe in draped over the chair facing the table. He is pacing as Esther enters breathlessly, straightening her novitiate's habit as she does, carrying a tray of food.)
(Fearfully.) David? (Stops, catching herself.) Eminence? I was told you wished to eat.
There's no time.
But the Reverend Mother said I was to come to you. She said I was to serve you.
I'm not here to eat.
Then something's happened?
Everything has happened. Put the tray on the table. (David stands back as she does so.) Make it look as if I intend to eat.
As if you intend . . .
In case someone comes in. Put the food on the plate. (He moves to help her.)
(Whispering.) David. What is it?
The decree has been issued. News reached Valencia two days ago. You won't be safe here any longer.
What decree?
By the Council. The Inquisition. The court. (Moving away, agitated.) We Jews have been expelled.
Expelled? From where? From Spain?
Yes. (Finishing the task.) I have a carriage hidden in the forest beyond the garden. We must meet Grandmother Evona in Valencia near the docks.
(Stepping toward him.) What about Grandfather?
Esther, Grandfather Moses is dead. He died . . .
Grandfather is dead? (In pain.)
(Going on.) He died three days ago. March 31. The day the decree was issued in Madrid.
Why wasn't I told? When was he buried? What happened?
You weren't told because I couldn't have gotten you to Madrid. As it is, when I got the news, I rode all night, but I was too late. Everything had already been done. In secret, of course. (Looks at her intently.) Jews are leaving Spain as fast as they can. We've been given thirty days to leave. People are panicking. We can't take any gold or silver. So selling property is useless.
But where will they go without money?
Some have done what we did, move resources earlier, but not very many. Most will be destitute. Even if they could take gold out of the country, the market is being flooded with houses and land for sale. The prices are being driven down so low it's pointless to even try to sell. (His voice barely under control.) Even our community holdings, our synagogues and ritual baths, they're being taken by the court. We're being stripped of everything that was ours.
(Starting to turn away, then turning back to face David.) Oh, David. All of this. All at once. It's unbelievable. (Trying not to break down, her eyes tearing nonetheless.) But the decree, what does it say?
That we are the (moving way from her, speaking to her over his shoulder) enemies of the Holy Catholic Church. (Stopping for a moment, then going on.) That all holdings of Jews that are not sold will become the possessions of the monarchy. That all debts owed to Jews by Spaniards will now be paid to the court. It's a way (turning back to face her) the King can make up the revenues he will lose when he cannot tax Jews in the future.
(Stepping back toward the single chair next to the doorway, sitting down, as if she is for a moment feeling faint.) I didn't think it would come to this.
Some of the most important Sephards, men like Don Issac Abravenel, they are to meet with the court. (Facing her.) They are trying to persuade the King to let the Jews remain in Spain longer, at least until the end of July.
Then why do we have to go? Why can't we stay until . . .
Because the extra time won't matter. Not for people like us, conversos like us. We're going to be hunted down. Your position is dangerous. (Stepping toward her.) Mine is impossible. With Grandfather dead, none of his friends will be able to protect us.
What do I tell the Reverend Mother? (Standing.) How do I explain?
You don't tell her anything. We leave right now. Why would you want to tell her anything?
Because she has been kind. Because she has taken care of me and my friend, Sister Catherine, the sympatica.
Esther, it's too late for you to care about the Reverend Mother, and it's too late to help Sister Catherine.
No, that can't be true. Sister Catherine and I have shared everything. She took as great a risk in trusting me as I did in trusting her. I have to tell her something. I can't just desert her. I can't just leave her here to be discovered.
You don't have time to tell her anything. I barely had time to persuade Grandmother to leave Madrid before I came back to Valencia to get you. She will meet us at the docks. We're leaving on a ship for Tunis. From there we'll go by ship to Alexandria. It was the best I could do.
(Facing him.) But your congregants? What are they going to do?
What are my congregants going to do? What are you talking about?
The people who believed in you. The old man who came to you. What's he going to think? What (turning away, speaking as she moves) will happen to him? What will happen to all of the others like him? (Turning back to face David.) Who is going to try to protect Valencia from the madness?
He will go on. Valencia will go on, or it will destroy itself. I don't know.
Don't you care what will happen to them?
I didn't say I didn't care what will happen to them. I said I didn't know (moving away from her) what will happen to them.
(Pursuing him.) It comes to the same thing, doesn't it? If you leave them now?
(Turning on her.) Esther, I didn't create the Council. I didn't put the Inquisition into motion. The Spanish court did that. The Spanish people. Some of them, at least. They did this. And it's we Jews who are going to have to suffer. They will, too, of course, when this is all over. When the Jews are gone. When what we brought to this kingdom. How we enriched it culturally and intellectually. When all of us are gone and all of that is gone, Spain will suffer. It will dry up and be hollow and cruel. It will be a horrible place. But that's their problem. It isn't ours. Ours is to try to survive by getting out.
You may be right. It may become a horrible place. (She struggles to maintain her control.) And it may be their problem, not ours. I'm just thinking about the old man. You said you were deeply moved by the way he kissed your ring.
I was deeply moved. (Turning away.) I am also moved by my Grandmother, who does not need (turning back to face her) to be driven from Spain like a criminal. I am also concerned about you. I will not see you persecuted . . . or worse.
They would come into this convent to seize me? Even the Council would not do that, would it? The Reverend Mother (moving away from him) would not let them.
Esther, listen to me. The Reverend Mother is powerless now. The King and Queen have spoken. Juan de Toquemada. The Inquisition. The Jesuit friars. All that they've done before: humiliate Sephardim in public, abuse Crypto-Jews, harangue whole Jewish congregations until they were so afraid they converted as a body. It's been going on for years, Esther, for decades. You and I were just too protected to see it because Grandfather took care of everything. But he can't take care of anything any longer. No one can protect anyone. Hatred has been turned loose. There are no restraints. Rome has capitulated. The Inquisition rules Spain. We Jews . . . we are the enemy.
But here, in this place (facing him again), I have found quiet. I have found peace. I am deeply moved by the devotions, the prayers. I am a Jew. But here, I feel as if I have found a place to be.
A place to be? Among nuns? Who are married to their strange notions about Jesus? Good God, Esther, (turning away) you are the enemy! (Turning on her.) Don't you understand that? Take you in front of a mob of Madrid Catholics and see what would happen.
But I am not in Madrid in front of a mob of Catholics. I am here among the sisters of the Order of the Gentle Heart, and I am safe.
Safe from what?
Safe from hatred?
Esther, you are safe only because the mobs (gesturing broadly) have not come to the door. The Inquisition has not yet come calling. But when it does, how many of these nuns will stand by you? Why should they? You are a Jew. We are the killers of Christ. That's what the friars have been preaching for decades. (Angry.) And people who could believe such a lie will believe anything. Hundreds of years of history are being wiped out. All that we've been in Spain. (Turns away from her; then turns back on her, almost angrily.) For us, for Sephards, Spain has been more important that Jerusalem. But we were wrong. We were foolishly and damnably wrong. They aren't going to let us stay. Can't you see that? If we don't leave now, you are going to be handed over to the mobs. You are a Marrano. I am a Marrano. We are the Jews who would not stop being Jews. We are the most despised of the despised, even by your sisters.
No. You have not knelt with them. You have not heard the sisters weep for the pain of theworld. I have. Yes, I am a Jew, but Jesus was a Jew, and they know that. They understand his Jewishness.
Esther, we don't have time to have a theological debate. Yes, your nuns understand many things. I know them. I have talked to them, don't forget. And they do pray for the pain of the world. I will grant you that. But you cannot ever convince me that they understand that Jesus, (turning away, moving across the room) that the Hebrew man Joshua, was a Jew. They have turned him into something he was not, (turning back to face her) something imaginary, and they hate those of us who know better. They fear those of us who know...
(Bursting.) David, I cannot desert Sister Catherine!
(A painful pause.) You cannot desert Sister Catherine, but (very slowly, accusingly) you can desert your Grandmother?
David, that's a cruel thing to say.
Cruel or not, it's the truth. We cannot take your sympatica. We are running out of time. And your Grandmother, who named you for her mother, she is at this very moment travelling from Madrid to Valencia in a carriage. She has given up everything she has ever owned, everything she has ever known or cared about. She is even leaving her husband buried secretly in the Jewish cemetery. Now choose. Your precious nuns . . . your Catherine . . . or your Grandmother.
David, you are not being fair.
No, Esther, I'm not the one who isn't being fair. It's all of this (gesturing broadly around him) that's not being fair. The Inquisition is not fair. But we should have known that? After all, the Council has said many things, but they have never said they were trying to be fair. The Inquisition has never had anything in mind but to drive all of the Jews out of Spain. And you (pointing at her) and I (touching his own chest) are Jews. Remember that. The man who kissed my ring does not matter. He was kissing the ring. He was not kissing me.
You said he spoke to you. You said (moving and speaking at the same time) that he leaned forward and said that you'd be a Cardinal one day because of your (turning back to face him) kindness. You said you were moved. That you wished to speak to him . . .
It doesn't matter what he said or what I felt. What matters is that the Inquisition has been turned loose. Hatred has become a fire storm, Esther. Jews everywhere are going to be caught. Don't you understand that? Jews everywhere are going to be caught in the flames. I don't care what the old man said. It's too late for that now.
It is never too late for redemption.
Redemption? What are you talking about? Who's being redeemed?
Spain must be redeemed.
Spain must be redeemed? By who? By you, a Jew passing herself off as a novitiate nun? Do you know what you are saying?
Yes, I do know what I'm saying. Spain must be redeemed. All of us must be redeemed.
Esther, my God! You sound like the rabbis in Madrid (gesturing) saying that the Inquisition is God's way of redeeming the Jews, that our suffering will force God to send the Messiah. But that is madness. Jews being burned at the stake is not going to bring the Messiah. We pitiful human beings are not going to force God to do anything that is not right in the fullness of time. (He starts to turn away; then he turns back on her.) Esther, what do you think the priests in Valencia would do if you told them we Jews were going to be the source of their salvation?
They would listen. Your priests would listen.
No, my priests would throw you into the flames and so will your nuns when the Inquisition comes pounding on the door of this convent. They will let them in. They will tell them where we are. They will stand aside and cross themselves as we are being led away, because they will be horrified by what is happening. But even more they will be relieved it is all over and that they weren't captured, too.
That's a vile thing to say, David.
Vile? (Moving close to the table, his fists pressing down on it in his anger.) I'll tell you what vile is. Vile is people who turn Jews in to the Inquisition so they can get the Jews' property as a reward.
But the nuns here (opening her arms). The Reverend Mother. She would not turn in Jews to the Inquisition.
The Reverend Mother (turning away) simply hasn't been forced to decide. (Turning back to confront her.) Do you think she would sacrifice the Order just to save one Jewish woman? Or two? Or all three of you? If everything was reversed, would you destroy the members of a synagogue to save one renegade Christian? Or two or three? (Esther turns away, not replying.)
I wouldn't. I'd turn in a hundred if I had to to keep a synagogue of Jews safe. And so would you. And the Reverend Mother isn't going to endanger her convent just to save you. Why should she? Esther, whether you want to admit it or not, whether she would want to admit it or not, even to herself, the truth is she is honor bound to turn you over to the Inquisition. It does not matter that it is vile or wrong. It has happened in places just like this one. It will keep on happening until the hatred spends itself. Until the hatred runs out of enemies.
(Moving, turning to face him.) Which is why we should stay. Why I should try to stay. To see the madness spend itself. To be with the sisters as they confront the evil, as they try to wrestle with all of the conflicts they must be feeling.
Conflicts? What conflicts? Do you think the priests (sitting in the chair, turned so he can face Esther) in my diocese will care that I've run away? Each of them will only regret that he was not able to catch me and turn me in. Why do you think your nuns will be any different? You will be taken away. They will be shocked. Then they will pray. Then you will be forgotten.
I don't believe that, David. I believe something more takes place here. (Walking and speaking.) Perhaps you are right about your priests. That may be the way of the world in which you and they live, but it is not the way of the world in this place.
Esther, listen to me. Our Grandfather was a brilliant man. He had friends. They are brilliant men. Our Father was a brilliant man, and he had friends, and they are brilliant men. And everyone of them would tell you right now that you have to run all the way to the sea. Then you will have to hope and pray that the ship that has been hired to take us to Tunis will actually do that, take our gold and then take us on board. Or once it takes our gold and takes us on board, you will have to pray it won't throw us overboard once we're in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea. (Looking at her, his face pained.) And even if we are lucky enough to get an honest captain who will take us all the way to Tunis, you will have to pray that the ship isn't captured by pirates who've heard there are rich Jews on board.
(Esther is equally agitated.) David, wait. Listen to me. I've been silent in this place. Do you know what that means? Do you have any idea what I'm talking about? I have learned something about silence. Because silence tells me something else, something different from what you've said, something other.
Something other?
Yes. Something more. Something deeper. Beyond every thing I've ever known before. Something that speaks to the heart.
Esther, you sound like a cabalist. But we haven't got time for you to tell me how you've discovered mystical truths. We are on the run. (Stepping closer.) Don't you understand that?
David, please, hear me. I am no less a Jew for having been here, but I am also a (moving closer to him) richer person than you can imagine because I have listened to the silence.
Good. Then keep the memory. Tell me about it once we're on the ship for Tunis. (Picking up the cape he has brought for her, which he had draped over the chair facing the table.) Tell me about it if we can get a ship for Alexandria. I promise, I will listen to everything you say.
Don't patronize me, David. Don't be unkind. It does not become you.
I am not the one who is being unkind. You are the one who is being unkind.
And how am I being unkind?
What will your Grandmother think when she arrives in Valencia and goes to the docks and does not find us waiting for her? What will she do? Go on without us? Stay and be captured? Because she will have to do one of those two things.
She will . . . (stepping away from him) understand.
She will understand? That is arrogant nonsense. What she will understand (moving away from her) is that we have deserted her? Maybe you can make her understand why (confronting her) if you ever see her again. And while you're at it, try to help her understand the death of her beloved Moses who died only after he'd gotten at least fifty Sephards out of Spain by bribing Spanish officials into letting them travel in secret to Valencia to find me. Ask her to describe how Moses Davar looked when his heart gave out as he read the decree the court has issued. Ask her to tell you what he looked like as he died in her arms.
(Angrily.) You are being cruel!
(Going on.) Ask her to tell you his last words, because they were about you, Esther. (She is about to protest, but he goes on, silencing her.)
Yes, they were about you. He told her she had to get you out of Spain. (His body is rigid with anger at her.) And while you're at it, try to help her understand the death of Simon Ruiz. Try to help her understand the deaths of the dozens of Sephard men who have been burned at the stake in Madrid. Tell her about the thousands of Jews who are going to die before this is all over. Make her understand all of that, Esther.
You're overwhelming me with words. (Moving across the table from him, as if they are circling the center of the room.)
No, I'm not overwhelming you with words. I'm overwhelming you with the truth. A bitter truth to be sure. A damnable truth to be sure. But a truth, nonetheless. And here's something else you can try to make her understand if you ever see her alive. Right now, as we speak, I'm told an explorer named Christopher Columbus is setting sail for India. He's convinced he can find a shorter trade route between Spain and Asia. If he's right, Spain will become rich beyond even the King's dreams. But guess what, my dear sister. This Columbus, he's being sponsored by the Abravanel family. He couldn't even get in to see the King and Queen until Sephard Jews petitioned the court. And why do you think Sephards did such a thing? Because Columbus is a Jew, an Italian Jew, that is why. Most people don't know it, of course. But it's true. Ever since he got to Spain, he's eaten with Jews. Ever since he arrived, he's slept in the homes of Jews. He dates his correspondence according to the Jewish calendar. His ship's crew is mostly Jews. I'd love to hear how you're going to explain to your Grandmother how the court can expel all of us Sephards who have served the monarchy for as long as it's been in power while at the same time it's sponsoring the expedition of a Jew named Christopher Columbus on a voyage to India.
David, I don't know anything about any explorer. I don't know anything about this . . . Christopher Columbus or whatever his name is.
That's right, you don't know about him. In the same way that you don't know anything about the hatred that has overwhelmed this country. There isn't anything in your prayers about what's really happening, is there. There's not one blessed thing about what death really is. It's all some kind of pageant ritual in here. Some kind of rital dream. But what I'm talking about is real, Esther. It's too real for words. And as a Jew, you should understand. The Catholic sisters may not, but you should, because it comes with your blood. It comes along with everything that makes you who you are.
No. You've distorted everything I've said. You're not being fair, David.
We're not discussing whether I am being fair or not, Esther. We are discussing why you are being arrogant and silly by not wishing to come with me before it's too late.
David, it is never too late (gesturing broadly around her) here. It can never be too late here. This is a place of compassion. Compassion and camaraderie.
That is lovely. (Stopping, forcing her to stop at the same time.) I am pleased for you. I'm glad your time here was fulfilling. But now, comrade, come with me. We are leaving. We have almost no time left. If the sun comes up before we are travelling, we will not get to the docks on time.
David, I am in pain. Don't you understand. I am in pain!
Where? In pain where?
In my heart. In my mind and in my memory and in my heart.
(Holds his breath for a moment. Then he speaks to Esther.) When Moses Davar first told me what he wished to do, I was also pained. (Turns away.) I thought I would become ill. But he made me see I was being foolish. I was wasting myself on ideas (turns to face her) that had no meaning. The world is not what we want it to be. The world is what it is. Nothing more and nothing less. And everyone wants to belong. And when those who belong (moving closer to her) to the most powerful group realize their power, they set out to justify the power they have by silencing other people who have less or none at all. That is what Grandfather taught me. Now (trying to be more gentle with her), Esther, come with me. It is time. (They face one another. He reaches out to take her right arm.)
I have brought an extra robe for you.
David, please. Go without me. Let me stay among . . .
(David steps closer to her. He reaches out and touches her face with his free hand. Then he speaks clearly.) Esther, The sea is in turmoil, but my soul is full of joy, for she is drawing near to the temple of her God.
(Shattering, falling into her arms.) David . . . (David puts the second robe over Esther's shoulders. Still holding her, he pulls his own up around his neck more tightly. Almost carrying her, he turns and prepares to leave, when suddenly, from out of the darkness, a voice speaks.)
Bishop David Davar! You are not to leave.
(Startled, he turns to the darkness.) Who's there? Who's speaking?
Bishop, you are under arrest.
By whose authority?
By the authority of the Council of Madrid.
(Slowly, but without fear.) And what are the charges?
You and your sister, Esther Davar, are charged with blasphemy against the Holy Catholic Church. (David and Esther start to move, as if they are still intent on leaving.)
Bishop! (Then more quietly but just as cruelly.) Sister. You must yield. (Very slowly; with great satisfaction.) There is no escape. (Esther shudders and begins to sink slowly to her knees. David holds her up. She leans against him for support. David turns to the darkness out of which the voice has come. He draws himself up and begins to speak very slowly in response.)
Baw-ruch a-taw a-do-noi elo-hay-nu.
Bishop! (Struggling to speak through her tears, Esther joins David in speaking.)
(In unison.) Blessed art those, O Eternal, our God, King of the Universe, who hast made a distinction . . .
(Interrupting, shouting over their voices.) Silence!
(Continuing, their voices quiet and patient and resolute.) . . . between holy and not holy, (lights begin to fade) between light and darkness, between Israel and the other nations
Silence!
(Their voices continue into the darkness.) Baw-ruch a-taw a-do-noi elo-hay-nu. (Then there is silence.) (Lights fade to complete darkness.)
(End of Act Two.)
| 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.