The Romantic Messiah

Sabbatai Zevy left Smyrna for Salonica where the Rabbis, disquieted by his popularity among the youth of the city, cmmanded his host to drive this blashpemous pretender away. Sabbatia and his friends, whose number-increased each day, left for Jerusalem. In the city of David, inspiration de-seconded upon Sabbatai. His sermons made a deep impression even on the Rabbis themeselves. Pilgrims soon began to arrives at Jerusalem. They were possessed by the fanatical certitude that the spirit of God lay upon Sabbatai and that the glory of Israel would be raised to life again. Sabbatai, however, awaitting off the day when he would openly proclaim himself as the Messiah.

Troubled by the impatience of his friends, he went t Cairo where he was royally received and house in the palace of Joseph Khelebi. One day, on the road from Jerusalem to Cairo, a young man, named Nathan, claiming to be the Prophet of God, joined Sabbatia’s followers. Crowds followed him. Other prohets arose everywhere crying; “Sabbatai is of the race of David. The aceptre and the kingdom have been given to Him!”

Meanwhile, Sarah, having left Amsterdam, wanted across country. She fell in with a band of Jewish begars but finally left them and after some more traveling. found herself in Hamberg. A few days later, while strolling aimlessy through the streets, she chanced on none other than Joseph Khelei himself. To him, meeting the one he regarded as Sabbatai’s divinely appointed be trothed was nothing short of a miracle.

“Sarah,” he declared to her in a voice allowing no contradiction, “we must embark for Cario thsi very night.”

In Alexandria, Khelebi, upon parting company with Sarah, told her that at the gates of Cairo she must descend from her camel and enter the city on foot.

DAYS OF ANGUISH

Amidst the luxurious appointments of Khelebi’s palace, Sabbatai was rent by an anguish h e could not allay, neither by long prayers nor by the ecstasy of self-flaggellation. Each day increased his sorrow, and to make it more terrible, his nights were haunted by vague, sensual images which second reflections of his dreams of Melisselda, the King’s daughter, On a certain unusually hot day he was seated on the terrace in the midst of his disciples, when a slave, returning from the gate, reported.

“There is an unveiled woman standing by the wall.”

Followed by Primo, Pinheiro left the terrace. In the deserted street they found a woman clothed in black moving toward them. They at once recognized her as a Jewess.

“Lead me to the house of Joseph Khelepi,” she said to them. “I am expected there.”

After some hesitation, Pinheiro spoke up:

“Enter,” he said, “this is the house you seek.”

Sarah appeared on the terrace. At the far end she perceived a man bent in deep meditation. In voluntarily. she took a step toward him. Sabbatai raised his head and saw Sarah. She started at him with enraptured eyes. Suddenly, exhausted by the turbulence of her emotions-of doubt despair, pain, hope she reeled at the sound of Sabbatai’s voice. Her hands flutered in the air as if seeking for some support. She fell at his feet and clung to the edge of his robe. Gently freeing himself from Sarah’s grasp, Sabbatai raised her to her feet.

“I must know your name,” said he gravely.

“Sarah,” she answered in a quriet, childish voice.

“Art thou ready, my betrothed my Sarah?” he asked with solemnity. “Give me thy right hand.” said Sabbatai. He grasped it, raised it and after slipping the ring onto her forefinger, cried in a loud voice.

‘REGOICE, REJOICE!’

“By this ring thou art consecrated unto me according to the laws of Moses and of the people of Israel.” Then raising his hand toward the sky, he shouted in ecstacy.

“And Thou in the heavens, rejoice! Rejoice!”

In the arms of her husband, Sarah swore to fuse her soul with the soul of millions, to gather within her the faith of mightly centuries the prayers of all despairing mothers, to be the Messiah’s people of Israel as he had said.

When the news spread that Sahbatai Zevy was on his way toward his natal city to appear before his people, an excited murmur in all the languages of the East and West rose through the air, and one name alone was on all mouths: Sabbatai Zevy. This name was full of joy and fear and pride. It possessed the crowds like madness. It brightened thousands of eyes with hope. It rose in a vast roar from thousands of parched throads. Days and nights, pilgrims be sieged the house where the Messiah lived. They had pitched a huge camp in the square which surrounded his house and passed their nights in watchfulness. They had come from the four corners of the globe-from Aleppo, Hamberg and Cracow. from Jerusalem, Leghorn and Salonica, from Constantinople, Lemberg and Ispahan, from Amsterdam, Rome and Alexandria, from Padua, Montpellier and Venice, from Warsaw, Adrianople and Yemen.

On the ninth of Ab, Sabbatai finally appeared before the people Hands were convulsively flung toward heaven, and an ecstatic roar, furious, wild, indomitable, swept through the square:

“Moshiakh Adonai! Moshiakh Adonai!”

SABBATAI’S MESSAGE

The Messiah raised his head and began to speak:

“You have brought me your sorrows. I bring you joy. Rejoice in your sorrow, sing in the midst of your wounds! God has appointed you His chosen and invincible people. I have brought you the green branch of life which formerly blossomed forth on the plains and hills of Palestine. I bring you life, life!”

“Beloved Messiah! Beloved!” Shouted the crowed, intoxicated with a new joy.

Just then the Governor of Smyrna, mounted on a tall horse, was pushing his way through the crowd. Angry murmurs rose in the crowd, but Sabbatai calmed his followers with gesture and bade th official approach.

“Sabbatai Zevy!” The latter delivered his message, “His Majesty the Sultan commands you to leave Smyrna within three days and to appear before him in Adrianople.”

Pashah!” replied Sabbatai, and his voice was firm and calm: “Tell your master that I will obey his command and that I will do so, not in his name, but in the name of the God of Israel. Not as a prisoner nor as subject, but as the liberator of peoples and as judge.”

Sleep would not descend upon Mohammed IV, Sultan of Turkey. Painful thoughts rose to his mind. A Jew of Smyrna, the son of an egg-merechant, dared disturb the peace of Ottoman cities! He posed as the messenger of the Jewish God and wished to free his people from all the power of all the kings upon earth, even to free them from his, yes, even Mohammed’s power. In his anxiety he asked counsel of his Court phystcian, Khekim Pashah, a renegade Jew.

“There is a way, your Majesty,” said Khekim Pashah to his lord and master, “of depriving Sabbatai of life without putting him to death. I will visit him in person, for I know how he must be approached. I wll lay snares to trap him for you. He shall wear the turban, I warnrant it upon the oath of your mercy, and a Mohammedan cannot be the Messiah of the Jews.”

Admitted to Sabbatai’s presence Khekim Pashah delivered to him the Sultan’s order to repair to the Castle of the Seven Towers. The words of the Turk dismayed Sarah, for she felt they embodied an explict command. But Sabbatai stirred. “What is your name?” He asked the Sultan’s emissary.

“I am called Khekim Pashah,” was the answer.

“I did not ask that name. What was your name among the Jews?”

“Gideon,” Khekim Pashain replied in spite of himself.

“Gidean!” said Sabbatai’s voice, marvelously free from all earthly things. “Tell th Sultan I will go to the Castle of the Seven Towers. And from yourself tell him this: By cunning flattery I have lured the Messiah of the Jews into the Castle of the Seven Towers, and he is now your prisoner, Go.

The rooms of the Castle of the Seven Towers in which Sabbatai and his disciples had been installed were furnished with a magnificence that irritated Sarah. But while she suffered from this disguised captivity Sabbatai rejoiced in his humiliation, solely regretting that it was secret. He wished that his people might doubt him so that he might break forth free in boundless splendor as the Appointed One.

THE SULTAN’S SUMMONS

Soon the Sultan’s physician called once more to announce that his Majesty desired Sabbatai to present himself before the Court on the next day.

Atfter Khekim Pashah left, Sabbatai prostrated himself and lay motionless. Amid splendor of fire, he saw the invisible throne of the God Sabbaoth borne up by the blue ether and voyaging through the infinite of the celestial sphere.

… He rose and started toward Sarah’s room. She ran toward him. He murmured that single word which had any meaning for him in the world of sounds:”Tomorrow!”

She understood. Tomorrow his promise would be fulfilled. Tommorrow her soul would be consumed with miracles… When Sarah and Sabbatai at last arose, the horizon was already colored. Sabbatai desired to be alone. Turning to the eat, he gathered his strength, and closing his eyes, murmured: “Lord, my God! Lord! My God!” The new day was awakening.

When later in the day the summons came for Sabbatai to appear before the Sultan he slowly raised his head and then murmured half-consciously to Sarah:

“You will go with me.”

Apporoaching the Sultan’s throne, Sabbatai halted a few steps from Khekim Pashah. He gently freed Sarah’s hand from his, calmly considered the court, and turned his clear, firm, modest eyes upon the Sultan.

“Sabbatai Zevy,” said Khekim Pashah, with cold solemnity. “It is said that you have announced yourself as the Messiah. Is that true?”

“I am the Messiah,” Sabbatai quietly affirmed.

“Sabbatai Zevy the court pysician cried, “Your folly justly deserves severe punishment. But the Padishah is great and merciful. Do you agree to a best of your divine power?”

“I agree,” replied Sabbatai. “It is the desire of my people and the desire of Sarah.”

“Two ways are open to you, Sabbatai Zevy. You can choose between them. Over there to the right, crouch three archers. Bare your breast to them. It is certain death. Do you consent?”

“I consent,” said his calm and musical voice.

But Khekim Pashah had promised the Sultan a living corpse. “I have told you that the Sultan has given you two choices, Clothe yourself with the mantle and green turban of a Mohammedam, go back to the castle, open the window and appear before your throng of believers. Bless them and return with all your people to the Sultan’s throne. This is the trail by faith. Sabbatai Zevy, you have one minute. The arrows or the turban. Choose!”

Sarah understood and fell upon her knees before Sabbatai, crying.

“To the right, Sabbatai, to the right!”

Sabbatai learned down and raised her. In a firm and tender voice he murmured.

“It must not be!” And then to the physician, with thunder in his vioce.

“I understand! I understant! The polt is worthy of a renegade. Satan! I understand! A Mohammedan cannot be the Messiah of the Jews! Your poison is far more deadly than that of the arrows, Gideon! Give, give give me now the green turban, the greenest turban you can find in all the lands of your ruler! Give! Give! But be it known-I remain the Messiah of the Jews. My hair is shorn, but my strength has not been withdrawn. In the green turban of Islarn I will appear be fore you as judge, as libertor, and as Messiah! You shall see me again. I go to my people. Await my return!”

“He turned away from the frightened Sultan and strode off toward the castle. Everyone drew aside as he moved over the green lawn.

It was a satantic smile, indeed, which now hovered on Khekim Pashah’s face. When he saw the Messiah disappear into the distance, he ran to the throne and whispered to the Sultan with an obsequious and joyful pride:

My Lord, he will not return. Wait no longer. The Messiah is no more.”

At a sign from the Sultan the physician leaned over Sarah’s unconscious body lying in the deep grass of the lawn.