Short Fiction by Selma Lagerlöf (android based ebook reader txt) 📕

“Is it perchance through a miracle of some god that your wife has been cured?” asked the slave.

“Yes, it is as you say,” answered the laborer. “One day a rumor reached the sick who lived in the wilderness: ‘Behold, a great Prophet has arisen in Nazareth of Galilee. He is filled with the power of God’s spirit, and he can cure your illness just by laying his hand upon your forehead!’ But the sick, who lay in their misery, would not believe that this rumor was the truth. ‘No one can heal us,’ they said. ‘Since the days of the great prophets no one has been able to save one of us from this misfortune.’

“But there was one amongst them who believed, and that was a young maiden. She left the others to seek her way to the city of Nazareth, where the Prophet lived. One day, when she wandered over wide plains, she met a man tall of stature, with a pale face and hair which lay in even, black curls. His dark eyes shone like stars and drew her toward him. But before they met, she called out to him: ‘Come not near me, for I am unclean, but tell me where I can find the Prophet from Nazareth!’ But the man continued to walk towards her, and when he stood directly in front of her, he said: ‘Why seekest thou the Prophet of Nazareth?’⁠—‘I seek him that he may lay his hand on my forehead and heal me of my illness.’ Then the man went up and laid his hand upon her brow. But she said to him: ‘What doth it avail me that you lay your hand upon my forehead? You surely are no prophet?’ Then he smiled on her and said: ‘Go now into the city which lies yonder at the foot of the mountain, and show thyself before the priests!’

“The sick maiden thought to herself: ‘He mocks me because I believe I can be healed. From him I can not learn what I would know.’ And she went farther. Soon thereafter she saw a man, who was going out to hunt, riding across the wide field. When he came so near that he could hear her, she called to him: ‘Come not close to me, I am unclean! But tell me where I can find the Prophet of Nazareth!’ ‘What do you want of the Prophet?’ asked the man, riding slowly toward her. ‘I wish only that he might lay his hand on my forehead and heal me of my illness.’ The man rode still nearer. ‘Of what illness do you wish to be healed?’ said he. ‘Surely you need no physician!’ ‘Can’t you see that I am a leper?’ said she. ‘I was born of diseased parents in a mountain grotto.’ But the man continued to approach, for she was beautiful and fair, like a new-blown rose. ‘You are the most beautiful maiden in Judea!’ he exclaimed. ‘Ah, taunt me not⁠—you, too!’ said she. ‘I know that my features are destroyed, and that my voice is like a wild beast’s growl.’

“He looked deep into her eyes and said to her: ‘Your voice is as resonant as the spring brook’s when it ripples over pebbles, and your face is as smooth as a coverlet of soft satin.’

“That moment he rode so close to her that she could see her face in the shining mountings which decorated his saddle. ‘You shall look at yourself here,’ said he. She did so, and saw a face smooth and soft as a newly-formed butterfly wing. ‘What is this that I see?’ she said. ‘This is not my face!’ ‘Yes, it is your face,’ said the rider. ‘But my voice, is it not rough? Does it not sound as when wagons are drawn over a stony road?’ ‘No! It sounds like a zither player’s sweetest songs,’ said the rider.

“She turned and pointed toward the road. ‘Do you know who that man is just disappearing behind the two oaks?’ she asked.

“ ‘It is he whom you lately asked after; it is the Prophet from Nazareth,’ said the man. Then she clasped her hands in astonishment, and tears filled her eyes. ‘Oh, thou Holy One! Oh, thou Messenger of God’s power!’ she cried. ‘Thou hast healed me!’

“Then the rider lifted her into the saddle and bore her to the city at the foot of the mountain and went with her to the priests and elders, and told them how he had found her. They questioned her carefully; but when they heard that the maiden was born in the wilderness of diseased parents, they would not believe that she was healed. ‘Go back thither whence you came!’ said they. ‘If you have been ill, you must remain so as long as you live. You must not come here to the city, to infect the rest of us with your disease.’

“She said to them: ‘I know that I am well, for the Prophet from Nazareth hath laid his hand upon my forehead.’

“When they heard this they exclaimed: ‘Who is he, that he should be able to make clean the unclean? All this is but a delusion of the evil spirits. Go back to your own, that you may not bring destruction upon all of us!’

“They would not declare her healed, and they forbade her to remain in the city. They decreed that each and every one who gave her shelter should also be adjudged unclean.

“When the priests had pronounced this judgment, the young maiden turned to the man who had found her in the field: ‘Whither shall I go now? Must I go back again to the lepers in the wilderness?’

“But the man lifted her once more upon his horse, and said to her: ‘No, under no conditions shall you go out to the lepers in their mountain caves, but we two shall travel across the sea to another land, where there are no laws for clean and