The Ruling

(I apologise in advance in case anybody is offended. This story was inspired when I was reading about the Talmud; the characters are fictional but the question that Rebekah asks and the ruling that the Rabbi gives are real. It can be found in Tractate Nedarim, 20b, if you're curious.)

*

My name is Rebekah.

My father, of blessed memory, was a good and pious man and he and my mother had four children, of which I am the eldest. I sometimes wonder what might have happened if I had been the youngest of my siblings. I was barely a year old when my mother got with child, and my earliest memory is of my mother commanding me to look after my infant brother Samuel while she prepared our meal. When Samuel was two years old and I was four, we were blessed with my brother Isaac. When Isaac was a year old, the Lord blessed us with my brother Judah. By the time Judah was able to walk, I was eight years old and I worked all day as a help to my dear mother. If I had been the youngest, and all my brothers had been older than me, I wonder if my life would have been quite different. But how different, I am not able to imagine.

My father was a learned man who, like all good men, wished his sons to study the Law. Sure enough, as soon as my brothers were able to talk and converse, my father would take them to Temple and have them instructed by the Rabbis in the Law of our people. My father was not himself a Rabbi. He owned a ship and often he would be away on business, but he liked nothing better than to return home to the bosom of his family. My mother was left in charge of us for much of the time. My brothers were soon avid students of the Law, which brought great happiness to my mother and my father and to me also, but it meant that I was not to expect them to help me with any of the more difficult chores around our house, for they were always studying.

As my brothers grew older, I noticed that they did not always behave towards me the way I imagined that brothers ought to behave to an elder sister. They sometimes mocked me for not knowing the Law as well as they did, and when I asked them questions concerning the Law they would give me an answer but in a way that made me feel stupid for asking the question. I once mentioned this to my mother and she was silent for a moment, then she told me that I must not think that they were disrespectful to me, and that I should honour their learning and pay attention to their judgments. I had to content myself with this, although some time later when my father was home he called my brothers in and I heard him tell them that they must behave towards me with respect. I loved him very much for this. However, my brothers went on treating me in very much the same way as before.

By the time I was sixteen my parents were naturally eager to find a husband for me. I naturally wished to find one too, although in truth I did not have any great feeling of happiness about it. My great wish was to have a home and a family of my own, but I did not think about what it would be like to have a husband and to bear his children. It was not something I knew much about, and not something I wished to think about.

I did not have many close friends of my own age. Many of the young girls I knew were eager to find husbands and often spoke about other young men. I found these conversations incomprehensible and vulgar. The girls I knew sometimes spoke about the pleasures of the marriage bed, and this I found especially unpleasant. It sounded strange and uncomfortable to me, and not something I looked forward to in any way. The other girls disliked me for saying so. They told me that I thought I was special, but that I was no better than any of them. In my heart I knew that there was truth in this. I did not know why I was so repelled by the thought of being with my future husband, I only knew that I was.

I had only one true, close friend. Her name was Rachel and she was the same age as me, the daughter of a friend of my father. She was the opposite of me. I was quiet and obedient and disliked talking, but Rachel had a very sharp tongue and great strength of will. This was a result of something that had happened her when she was younger.

Rachel was very fair, and as a young girl she had been exceptionally beautiful. I, who was dark, had sometimes felt envy of her great beauty. Then one day when she was twelve years old she suffered a dreadful accident. She was in the marketplace with her mother when some Roman soldiers rode through very quickly, on their horses. Rachel was in their path and her mother only pulled her out of the way just in time to save her from being knocked down, but part of the harness of one of the horses struck her in the face. She lost the sight in her right eye and although the wound closed up, she was left with a cruel scar that ran down one side of her face. This spoiled her great beauty. Before her accident she had been quiet, like me, but afterwards she became more outspoken. The other girls said that now she was spoiled she would never find a husband, and Rachel soon learned to defend herself against them with quick wit. My mother used to say that Rachel's wit made it even less likely that she would find a husband, but I secretly admired Rachel's spirit and wished that I could be more like her. But it was not in my nature to be rebellious. If I was given the choice between doing something that I much desired to do, or obeying the wishes of my parents even when they ran counter to my heart's desire, I would always obey the wishes of my parents.

Rachel used to tease me for this, but I did not mind. The truth was that I was the only person that Rachel showed her inmost heart to. There were times when she would weep on my shoulder that she would never find love because she was ugly, and I would do my best to comfort her, although I knew that given her scar and her sharp tongue it was indeed unlikely that she would find a husband.

And so we went on. I helped my mother with her chores and learned the skills required to run a household, and my father diligently sought out a husband for me, but he was critical of many of the young men who expressed an interest in marrying me. I was secretly pleased about this, as I wanted to put off getting married for as long as possible. I preferred spending time with my mother and especially with Rachel.

And then, the summer I turned eighteen, everything changed.

It all started when two young Greek Jews appeared in our neighbourhood. They were brothers, Philip and Matthew, and they opened up a blacksmith's shop. Philip was, tall, handsome, popular and friendly and always said hello to everyone, and always had a joke on his lips. He went out and sought business for the shop and dealt with the customers. Matthew did the actual work. He was the opposite of his brother, short and stocky and silent. He was always bashing away at pieces of iron and he smelled of sweat and metal.

I would not have paid much attention to the brothers, had not Rachel started talking to me about them all the time. She developed an intense dislike of Philip, who she said was "stuck-up". She could go on for hours about what an arrogant, awful, inflated fool he was and how he thought he was lord of the world, just because he and his brother had made a bit of money in Thessaloniki. I was puzzled by how Rachel kept going on and on about how awful Philip was. He didn't seem all that bad to me, although I was not interested in either him or his brother. Philip didn't treat me any different from the way he treated anyone else; if anything he was always very polite to me, although when Rachel called him a fool or a scoundrel he would always give back as good as he got. Sometimes, if they met in the marketplace when we were shopping for groceries, they would call insults back and forth at each other and Rachel would usually end up throwing vegetables at him. I pretended to find this shocking, although secretly I thought it was quite funny. If Rachel hated Philip, what was that to me? She could throw vegetables at whoever she wanted to.

And then one day, Rachel's parents came to eat at our house and Rachel, naturally, came along. After the meal we all went for a walk through the neighbourhood so that our mothers could see what everyone was wearing and so that our fathers could talk business. Rachel and I followed, chatting about nothing much. My brothers went straight off somewhere as soon as the meal was over.

We were strolling through the marketplace when all of a sudden, Philip and Matthew were there, dressed in their very smartest clothes. They were coming towards us. Rachel scowled at the sight of Philip. He bowed low before Rachel's father and, addressing him in terms of the greatest respect, asked him for Rachel's hand in marriage.

I was astonished. I looked at Rachel and she was glaring at Philip. Rachel's father looked a little surprised, and he said to Philip "Marriage?"

"Yes, sir," said Philip, and he nodded politely to my mother and father and me, and then looked at Rachel with a most peculiar expression on his face.

"But she has a blemish," said Rachel's father, puzzled.

"She has no blemish that I can see," said Philip.

"She has a scar on her face and is half-blind," said Rachel's father, patiently, as if talking to a stupid person.

"That she was not born with, but it was inflicted upon her," Philip replied, "and so I hold it of no account. She is everything I could want in a wife. She has wit, spirit and beauty. If I could marry her, I would count myself the happiest of men."

I was starting to feel very sorry for Philip, because I knew that Rachel was about to say something to him that would make him feel half a hand in height, and I looked at her.

She was weeping, and staring at Philip with a look I had never seen before. I was surprised. Then Rachel's father and mother exchanged a look, and then they both looked at Rachel.

"Well, daughter?" said Rachel's father. "This match has my blessing."

Rachel was still staring at Philip, and then she said "Yes!"

I was dumbstruck. I could not have been more surprised if she told me that she was going to marry a Roman.

"Then I wish you joy of each other," said Rachel's father gently, and to my even greater astonishment Rachel rushed up to Philip and he took her hands and kissed them tenderly.

I felt like a fish just after it had had its guts scraped out. I was going to lose my best friend to a man I had thought she hated, but I could see now that Rachel's dislike of Philip had come from her deep feelings for him and how she thought that he would never want her. I remember thinking, How little I know about people!

Then something happened which brought home to me that I knew even less than I thought. Philip managed to tear his eyes away from Rachel and he looked at my own parents and bowed.

"Good sir and madam," he said, "there is one other thing."

"Speak, young man," said my father, rather bemused.

"My brother would like to marry your daughter," said Philip with a charming smile, and he turned and glanced at his silent, stocky, hairy brother. Matthew looked at me, looked at my parents, looked at Philip, then looked at my parents again and nodded.

I felt the world starting to spin around me. I looked at Rachel. She was clinging on to Philip and looking at me, and a look of delight was all over her face.

"Can he not say so himself?" said my father with a slight edge to his voice.

"I would," said Matthew. "Like to marry your daughter. Um, sir. If you please. Sir."

I was aghast. I had no desire whatever to be married to Matthew. I looked at them all. Philip was stroking Rachel's head and beaming, Rachel was smiling at me and nodding emphatically, my parents looked a bit confused, Rachel's parents looked proud that they had managed to get their daughter engaged, and Matthew...

He looked uncomfortable. He did not look me in the eye. He scratched his nose and flicked some dirt off his robe.

"I have no objection," said my father eventually. "Wife?"

"It is a good match," said my mother, and she smiled warmly at Philip and Matthew. They both turned and looked at me.

"Well?" said my father.

What could I do? I was trapped. I could not let everyone down -- not my best friend, who so wanted me to be married to her husband's brother, not my dear parents, not Philip who had brought such unexpected happiness to Rachel. The only people who seemed not to want us to get married were Matthew and me.

I was seeing stars. "All right," I said, and I fainted.

***************

Philip and Rachel were married some weeks later. I had never seen her so happy. It turned out that I was right to think that her dislike of him had come from her feeling that he would never look at her. There was some gossip among the other girls about how Philip had married a blemished woman, but the rabbis declared that since Rachel had been injured and had not been born with her blemish, she was not therefore unclean. And certainly, when I looked at her in her wedding gown, she was beautiful. Her injured eye was a dull white colour and she had wondered if she ought to wear an eyepatch, but Philip said that there was no need. And it did not seem to matter, when you could see how happy she was.

Matthew and I went for walks. I found him silent and uninteresting. I did not find him attractive in any way. I sensed that he was not very attracted to me, either. I did not know why I had agreed to marry him and I was desperately unhappy. I did not feel able to tell Rachel, however. Only a few months after her own marriage, she was with child by Philip.

My own marriage was a fairly quiet occasion. I tried to pretend that I was happy to be marrying Matthew but I am not good at pretending. The women took me to the mikvah and they shaved my head and I undressed completely. I was ashamed that they should see me like that. I had never been naked in front of anyone except my mother.

I walked down the steps and, naked, I plunged into the ritual bath. I floated under the water, holding my breath for as long as I could, hoping that the Lord would give me the strength to be a good wife. It was very cold and I felt nothing. The Lord was not listening to me. I let out my breath and the bubbles floated to the surface. Eventually my lungs were bursting and I surfaced myself and came out. I was pronounced clean and ready for marriage. They dressed me in my wedding gown and veil. I was supposedly clean, but I felt like a liar and fraud.

The ceremony itself passed smoothly and the party would have been enjoyable if it had been anybody else's wedding. Rachel was pregnant and very happy and more than ever, I felt a pang that I was not able to tell her how miserable I was.

I dreaded my marriage night, and it was no better than I had expected it to be. I had to have two glasses of wine to relax myself. Matthew had drunk considerably more. I went to the marriage bed first and with great reluctance, I undressed completely and got between the sheets. Matthew came in, smelling of wine, and he pulled off his clothes and got into bed and lay on top of me and started kissing me.

I tried kissing him back but it felt stupid. I let him move up and down on top of me for a while, then I felt the thing between his legs pushing between my thighs. I knew what was supposed to happen, but nothing prepared me for the sudden pain. I cried out.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"It hurts," I said.

"Sorry," he said. He had stopped moving. I waited. I just wanted him to get it over with.

"Well, go on, seeing as you've started," I said. He pushed inside me and it hurt more and felt wet. I don't remember feeling much else. He went faster and faster and then he gasped and I felt a slight tingle, but basically it hurt and I was tired and had a headache from the wine and just wanted to go to sleep.

He rolled off me and sank back, breathing heavily. I waited to see if he was going to do any more. He didn't move.

"Have you finished?" I asked.

There was nothing, then he sighed and said "Yes."

"Good night then," I said, and rolled onto one side.

That was my marriage night. It was very much like the times afterwards when we went to bed together. At first Matthew wanted us to have intercourse every night, but when he saw that I did not enjoy it, he was decent enough not to insist on it. I stopped sleeping naked, so that he would not be tempted. I felt bad, because I knew that it was his duty to have intercourse with me and that I was supposed to like it, but I didn't.

Very quickly, I got pregnant. That was a relief because it meant that I didn't have to have intercourse for a while. I noticed that being pregnant made me feel different about myself and about Matthew. When the baby was born -- a girl, Leah -- it took me a little while to feel that she was truly mine, but very soon I did so. I felt differently about Matthew, too. I did not think that he really loved me the way a man should love his wife, but he was not such bad company and he doted on Leah. He also worked very hard and made a good home for us.

This was my life, for ten years. I had two more children, Moshe and Rachel. Rachel raised two children and then had to stop because the second pregnancy was very difficult. We saw each other every day and we were the best of friends. Matthew and I and Philip and Rachel had many convivial evenings together. My brothers became Rebbe, except for Judah who went off to the East somewhere and failed to write to us. Matthew and I managed, somehow. We grew fond of each other. But sharing a bed was never anything that gave us great pleasure.

Then, one night, when I was twenty-nine years old and had been married for eleven years, we had a dinner party for the family at which I had two glasses of wine, one more than I normally had. It went to my head a bit and I felt an unfamiliar feeling. Sitting next to Matthew, I felt a slight tingle between my thighs and I thought that perhaps, after all, I was in the mood for letting him have intercourse with me. I knew that he wanted to, he would still ask if I minded, but I had become expert in saying no. This night, though, I thought that perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if I said yes.

As we were getting ready for bed, he was changing out of his robe and I was on my side of the bed taking off my jewellery. Normally I changed behind a screen and slipped on a light cotton robe to sleep in, but this night, when I had removed my adornments and washed my feet, face and hands, I then took off the rest of my clothes, went to the bed, pulled down the sheet and lay down on it, naked.

Matthew looked down at me, startled. He was already wearing his own sleeping robe.

"What's up?" he said.

"Nothing," I said. "I was just feeling like sleeping naked tonight." I felt myself blushing.

"Oh," he said, and hesitated.

"You could join me if you want," I said.

"I'd like to," he said tentatively. "Um, do you mean...?"

"That would be all right," I said casually, and rolled onto one side, facing him.

I knew he was looking at my body and I quite enjoyed showing it to him. Although I was now in my late twenties and had had three children, I had tried not to let myself go. I worked hard around the house and I had learned from my parents to eat frugally because you never knew when difficult times would come, so it was important not to get used to too much luxury. As a result, I was only a little heavier around my hips than I had been when he had married me. My hair was still cropped short.

Matthew pulled his robe over his head. I had never liked his body. He was too short and hairy. Nevertheless, I opened my arms and he got onto the bed with me.

We kissed, and it wasn't too bad as long as I kept my eyes shut. I quite enjoyed knowing that his manhood was going to enter me at some point, because I knew it would no longer hurt. Sure enough, it didn't hurt. I was even quite enjoying it, although he kept sliding out of me. That had always happened with us. He had once said that he thought that I was put together a strange way, because he didn't hear of other husbands always sliding out of their wives. I had said "Oh, you talk about it a lot with other husbands, do you?" and had used it for two weeks as an excuse not to have intercourse with him. Now, however, I was impatient because I rather thought it would be nice if he were able to stay inside me.