THE SEDUCTION OF JOB: Twenty Years Later
A Dramatic Poem
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Confronted by his wife Zorah, Job confesses.
ZORAH:
O Job,
my husband and the father of our children,
You are
not the man I knew not too long ago.
Your
silent sighs and dark countenance ever increasing,
Your
sleepless nights and restless days now countless,
Your
agonies and torments with the unseen evil
Have
not ceased and would not end upon my plea.
You
are a changed man, both old and new:
The Job
of old has become more of old Job,
Thoughtful,
loving and sweetly repentant,
Immersed
in prayer and silence, speaking only to God.
But you
have also turned into a new man,
Desolate
and fearful, agonizing and uncertain,
Shut
off from humanity and your loved ones,
Silently
brooding and wresting with the demon within.
Sadness
and melancholy are now your shadows,
Following
you wherever you cast your presence,
And
covering the ground with gloom and sorrow.
Our
household, once happy and content, is a graveyard
Where
laughter and mirth are no more heard,
Because
its master no longer laughs or jests,
Where
hush is its music, and silence its feast
For
fear of offending the master in his grieving.
Insufferable
as I am with your solitary torment,
I can
no longer endure it without cause.
Upon
God and His angels and beyond,
Tell
me, as you must, the source of this darkness‑‑
Which
overshadows all that your soul touches.
Also
upon our lives together in happiness and suffering,
Am I
not part of my own husband's truth?
JOB:
O
Zorah, my love, who is wholly unburdened
By
guilt or shame, crime or sin, man or God,
Who
gives all unasked, and loves all unreturned,
Whose
wisdom goes unheralded, whose piety unsung,
And who
comforts the afflicted with her heart and soul.
O
Zorah, can you bear the cruelty of truth?
ZORAH:
If I
could not bear it, why should I ask?
If my
husband lived with it, would I not share?
JOB:
I stand
between dishonor and poverty.
The
king has given me the choice
For my
wrongdoing in violation of the law
Established
to protect maids and servants.
Now
that you must know: Bashana was my sin.
ZORAH:
O my
Job, the man of piety and righteousness!
Betraying
his wife and the holy vow gravely taken,
And in
the sight of God and His angels!
Why, my
Job, who was blessed by the Lord,
Who was
the envy of all who knew or saw him?
In
God's name and all that is sacred, why?
JOB:
Zorah,
my wife, I am naked and defenseless.
My sin
took away my shield so I cannot hide;
My
stupidity muddled my reason so I cannot explain;
My
impiety tied my tongue so heaven cannot hear me.
I stand
before your anger, trembling and helpless,
But
with enough of God's grace to say, "Forgive me."
ZORAH:
O Job,
you fickle man, what have you lacked?
Was I
not always loyal to you,
Standing
by you in your trial with God?
Did I
ever lay my eyes on another man,
Giving
you reason for betrayal and treachery?
JOB:
Guilty
as charged, I have ruined it all;
Shame
beyond words, I only wish to die‑‑
O how
many times have I wished for it!
ZORAH:
Death
is too easy for your sin, my Job.
You
broke my heart and trampled on my soul.
My
spirit is torn apart that cannot be repaired;
I will
cry eternally for my tattered life.
What
would they say about me at the marketplace;
How
shall I overcome the terror of the women's scorn?
JOB:
O
Zorah, by the mercy of God is my love restored,
In my
heart that was blind to all but myself.
Now all
that heaven allows is in my soul,
So that
I can see God's grace in love.
Upon
Him I pledged my eternal love for you
And I
have not once strayed from it.
I pray
to God for His forgiveness and mercy
And I
appeal to you for yours, my love.
ZORAH:
O Job,
a man for whom I praised the heavens,
The
sweetness of whose heart I admired,
The
depth of whose wisdom kept me enthralled,
Who
walked before God like no man alive‑‑
O how
many stitches in the hands of angels
Would
it take to mend my heart in shreds;
How
much balm from heaven's own garden
To wipe
away all my tears of betrayal;
And how
many bright stars in the skies
To show
my trail back to trust and love again?
Yes,
Job, my love, I will bear the burden
As you
do yours in silence and prayer.
I shall
rejoice in the solemn sadness of penance.
Would
God ever be cruel like man,
And not
hear my desolate prayers?
ZORAH TO SELF:
O men,
the strangest creatures on earth!
So
rigidly, so faithfully they adhere to God,
Yet,
without second thoughts do they betray their women!
In
greatness they speak of the world and its order,
Yet, in
their heart is the fickleness of a scoundrel!
Bravely
they march to do battle for God,
And
endure hardships as saints and martyrs.
But in
their private deeds with women,
Their
endurance is as short as the winter's day,
Their
adherence as capricious as the swine's homecoming!
O men,
so incomprehensible, so contradictory!
As
God's soldiers and the king's men
They
may die rather than betray their cause;
As
husbands and loved ones to their women,
Their
commitment is as solid as the summer's fog
And as
reliable as the promise of an east wind.
O Job,
my man, so extreme and so onerous!
You
sinned like a feather flying in the breeze,
Yet,
like a fallen angel do you repent in weeping.
If you
sinned like a mortal man
Why
should you repent like God's prophet?
What is
the weight of your sin
That
you must lift the whole heavens to repent?
O men,
could you be reasonable like women?
Job and his Family -- William Blake
Job and his Daughters -- William Blake
