The towel! I said the towel, you scamp!

You take such care to clean the bowl

But leave me with my hands dripping on the floor.

A t once! You’ll learn to mind your work

Or you will mind a beating. There, there, enough.

Not there boy, I use them only once,

And replace each day my store of linen.

Bring clean water. Clean hands make a man.

Come, come! So slow my boy.

Why I don’t have you whipped, I’ll never know.

There. An so. Now take yourself away.

Go where you like within my call.

Leave us to talk.

You wonder why I keep him, slow to come

And always dreaming. Well he has a secret,

That an old man can’t resist, some expression

In his eyes, that’s it! A gentle glance, but

full of youth and power. And–you will

laugh–full of love, yes. I never could hurt

one who loved me, not in my later years.

Any creature with that solemn, gentle, stare, that

Patient way.

Did you ever see Jerusalem–oh no–I asked that once,

I’m getting old; my stories come in circles I tell

again again; bear with me, friend. It was

The best time of the year when I met

Such a one before, He had such eyes.

He saw into my soul. And he was kind,

So like my boy. Above the cruelness of the rest.

But they killed him. I told you before I guess.

It was not I, not I! They the rabble crowd,

Those justices of Israel.

I liked the wine there. Have you drunk Judean wine?

It has a flavor, not unlike—well but you have drunk

Such at my table often.

He spoke to me as though it were myself, he tried. Ha!

As though he were a king indeed and tried me

And above hating bade me love. He forgave,

But not me, I say. What should he have to pardon me.

My boy’s a greek. That man was jew.

But like, the brow and eyes.

How is your sister. And how

Your noble son who leads the soldiers.

Yes you are proud and have a reason.

Did I just wash my hands? I thought I did.

Where is my boy? Boy! He will not come too fast.

Did you ever wish back your youth. I’ll

Tell you now the time will come.

When you would trade your treasure and your lands

For one chosen hour back again.

A chance to climb the mountain that you passed,

A chance to speak the words you thought of later.

I sent a handsome present to his mother—

No, boy, I did not call. Wait, I did, no matter.

I’ll just rinse off my hands again.

There, there. the towel. Now go–

My friend. Let us go into dinner. Where a feast of

Quality shall repay your indulgence of an old man’s prattle.