Anathema: A Tragedy in Seven Scenes
ACT TWO.
_David Leizer lives richly. At the urgent request of his wife and his children he has hired a rich villa, by the sea-shore, engaged numerous servants, bought horses and carriages. Anathema, under the pretext that he had grown tired of his law practice, remained with David as his private secretary. Rosa is taking lessons in languages and deportment. Naum, who has grown very sick, near to death, is learning how to dance. The money has not yet arrived from America, but to David Leizer, the millionaire, a large credit has been extended._
_The stage represents a rich parlor, white marble here and there, with large Italian windows and a door leading to a veranda. It is midday. Beyond the open windows, semi-tropical plants are visible, and the deep blue sea in the distance; through one of the windows, a view of the city is seen._
_David Leizer is seated by the table, greatly depressed. A short distance away, on a divan, Sarah is seated, dressed richly, but without taste; she watches Naum learning how to dance. Naum is very pale, he coughs and almost falls from weakness, especially when, according to the rules of the dance, he must stand on one foot; but he is studying diligently! He is dressed rather richly, but his bright-colored vest and necktie spoil the elegance of his appearance. Near Naum, the dancing-master, with a fiddle and how, is hustling about, balancing himself, rising up and down. He is a man of unusual refinement and grace; he wears a white vest, patent-leather slippers, and a smoking jacket. And Anathema, standing at the veranda door, looks upon all this with an air of sadness and reproach._
DANCING-MASTER.
One--two--three; one--two--three.
SARAH.
Look, David, see how successful our Naum is in his dancing. I could not hop like that for anything? poor boy!
DAVID.
I see.
DANCING-MASTER.
Monsieur Naum is very talented. Please, one-two--three; one--two--three. Pardon me, pardon me, this isn't exactly right. You must make the step more precise, neatly rounding the motion of the right foot. This way--this way.
_Shows him how to do it._
Madam Leizer, dancing is quite like mathematics, a circle is necessary.
SARAH.
Do you hear, David?
DAVID.
I hear.
DANCING-MASTER.
Please, monsieur Naum. One--two--three.
_Plays on his violin._
NAUM.
_Out of breath._
One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.
_He turns around, and then, suddenly, almost falls down. He stops. His face is exhausted, deathly pale; he is seized with a fit of coughing. Then he resumes dancing._
NAUM,
One, two, three.
DANCING-MASTER.
That's the way, that's the way, monsieur Naum. Please, more neatly! More neatly, please! One, two, three.
_He plays. Anathema walks over to Sarah cautiously and says in a low voice, yet loud enough to be heard by David:_
ANATHEMA.
Madam Leizer, does it not seem to you that Naum is rather tired? This dancing-master knows no mercy.
DAVID.
_Turning around._
Yes, it is enough. Sarah, you are willing to torture the boy.
SARAH.
_Confusedly._
What have I to do with it, David? Don't I see that he is tired, but he wants to dance? Naum, Naum!
DAVID.
Enough, Naum! Take a rest.
NAUM.
_Out of breath._
I want to dance.
_Stops and stamps his foot hysterically._
Why am I not allowed to dance? Or do you all want me to die soon?
SARAH.
You will live yet, Naum. You will live yet.
NAUM.
_Almost crying._
Why don't they allow me to dance? I want to dance. I have looked for credit long enough, I want to amuse myself. Am I an old man to be in bed and cough there? Cough! Cough!
_He coughs and cries simultaneously. Anathema whispers something to the dancing-master, who expresses compassion, nods his head, and prepares to go._
DANCING-MASTER.
Until to-morrow, monsieur Naum. I am afraid that our lesson was a little too long.
NAUM.
To-morrow--don't fail to come to-morrow. Do you hear? I want to dance.
_The dancing-master goes out, bowing. Naum follows him._
NAUM.
To-morrow, without fail. Do you hear? Without fail.
_They go out._
ANATHEMA.
What are you thinking of, David? Allow me to be not only your private secretary--although I am proud of this honor--but also your friend. Since the time when you received the money you are oppressed by a dark sorrow, and it pains me to look at you.
DAVID.
What is there that I should rejoice over, Nullius?
SARAH.
And Rosa? Do not sin against God, David! Do not our eyes rest upon her beauty and youth? Before even the silent moon dared not look at her, one star dared not whisper about her to any other star,--while now she is riding about in a carriage, and everybody looks at her, and horsemen gallop after her. Just think of it, Nullius, horsemen gallop after her!
DAVID.
And Naum?
SARAH.
What about Naum? He has long been ill, you know it, and death upon a soft bed is not worse than death upon the pavement. And perhaps he will live yet, he will live yet (_cries._) David, Abraham Khessin and Sonka's girl are waiting for you in the yard.
DAVID.
_Morosely._
What do they want, money? Sarah, give them a few pennies and let them go.
SARAH.
In the end they will draw out all the money we have, Nullius. I have given to Khessin twice already. He is like sand,--no matter how much water you pour into it, it is always dry and greedy.
DAVID.
Nonsense! we have too much money, Sarah. But it pains me to look at the people, Nullius. Since the time when you brought us this fortune--
ANATHEMA.
Which you earned by your sufferings, Leizer.
DAVID.
Since that time, the people have changed so much for the worse. You like to have the people bow to you very low, Nullius? I do not like it--human beings are not dogs that they should crawl on their bellies. And you like to have the people tell you, Nullius, that you are the wisest, the most magnanimous, the best of all living beings--whereas you are only an ordinary old Jew, like many another Jew. I do not like it, Nullius,--for the sons of the God of truth and mercy it is unbecoming to lie, even while dying of the cruelties of truth.
ANATHEMA.
_Thoughtfully._
Riches are a terrible power, Leizer. No one asks you where your money came from; they see your might and they worship it.
DAVID.
Might? And Naum? And I, Nullius? Can I buy for all the money even a single day of health and life?
ANATHEMA.
You look considerably fresher now.
DAVID.
_Smiling gloomily._
Yes? Should I, perhaps, also engage a dancing-master? What do you advise me, Nullius?
SARAH.
Don't forget Rosa, father. Is it not a great sin against God to hide the beauty of the face? It is given as a joy and a pleasure to the eyes; God Himself reveals His beauty in a beautiful face, and did we not lift our hands against God Himself when we stained our Rosa's face with coal and soot, when we made her terrible and sorrowful to look upon?
DAVID.
Beauty is withering. Everything is dying, Sarah.
SARAH.
But the lily also withers, and the narcissus dies, the petals of the yellow rose fall apart--would you, David, trample all flowers under foot and heap abuse upon the yellow rose? Do not doubt, David,--the God of righteousness has given you riches--will you who were so firm in misfortune that you did not blaspheme God even once--will you grow weak in your happiness?
ANATHEMA.
You are perfectly right, madam Leizer. Rosa has so many suitors that all she needs is to choose.
DAVID.
_Rising angrily._
I will not give Rosa to any of them.
SARAH.
Why not, David?
DAVID.
I will not give Rosa to any of them. They are like dogs that want to eat out of the golden bowl--I will drive the dogs away.
_Enter Rosa. She is dressed richly, but simply. She is somewhat pale and fatigued, but very beautiful. She tries to speak and to move gracefully, but at times she forgets herself and becomes rude and vociferous. She feds tormented by this. Rosa is accompanied by two horsemen. The older man is very pale and he frowns angrily. Naum clings to Rosa, as though seeking protection in her youth, strength, and beauty, and he walks faintly after her._
DAVID.
_In a rather loud voice._
Sarah, here are the suitors.
SARAH.
_Waving her hand._
Oh, be silent, David.
ROSA.
_Kissing her mother carelessly._
How tired I am, mamma. Good afternoon, father.
SARAH.
Take care of yourself, Rosochka; you mustn't study so much.
_To the older of the two cavaliers._
Please tell her that she mustn't work so hard--what does she need to work for now?
YOUNG RIDER.
_In a low voice._
People should pray before your daughter, madam Leizer. Soon a temple will be erected in her honor.
OLDER RIDER.
_Smiling._
And near the temple, a cemetery. Madam Leizer, there are always cemeteries near the temples.
ROSA.
Good-by. I am tired. If you are disengaged, come in to-morrow morning--I may go out with you again.
OLDER RIDER.
_Shrugging his shoulders._
Disengaged? Oh, yes, of course, we are entirely free.
_Harshly._
Good-by.
YOUNG RIDER.
_With a sigh._
Good-by.
_They go out._
SARAH.
_Uneasily._
Rosochka, I think you have offended him. Why did you do it?
ROSA.
That doesn't matter, mamma.
ANATHEMA.
_To David._
These are not suitors, David.
_David laughs morosely. Anathema runs over to Rosa and offers her his arm. He leads her, half-dancing, merrily whistling the same tune that the organ had played._
ANATHEMA.
Oh, Rosa, were it not for my age (_whistles_) and not for my illness (_whistles_), I would be the first to ask your hand.
ROSA.
_Laughing haughtily._
Better illness than death.
DAVID.
You are a very gay man, Nullius.
ANATHEMA.
_Whistling._
The absence of wealth and, then, a clear conscience, David, a clear conscience. I have nothing to do, so I walk arm in arm with Rosa. You spoke of death, Rosa?
ROSA.
Yes.
ANATHEMA.
_Stopping._
You are indeed beautiful, Rosa.
_Thoughtfully._
And what if.... If.... But no; duty above all. Listen to me, Rosa: don't give yourself away to any one less than a prince, even though the prince of darkness.
NAUM.
Rosochka, why did you go away from me? I feel cold when you do not hold my hand. Hold my hand, Rosochka.
ROSA.
_Hesitating._
But I must go to change my dress, Naum.
NAUM.
I will accompany you as far as your room. You know, I danced again to-day and danced very well. I am not so short of breath now any longer.
_With a feeling of adoration and slight envy._
How beautiful you are, Rosochka!
SARAH.
Wait, Rosochka, I will comb your hair myself. Will you allow me?
ROSA.
You do it very badly, mamma; you kiss it more than you comb it--my hair gets entangled from your kisses.
DAVID.
Is that how you answer your mother, Rosa?
ROSA.
_Stopping._
Why do you despise my beauty, father?
DAVID.
Before, I used to love your beauty, Rosa.
SARAH.
_With indignation._
What did you say, David?
DAVID.
Yes, Sarah. I love the pearl when it is on the bottom of the sea; but after it is taken out of the sea, it becomes blood--and then I do not like pearls, Sarah.
ROSA.
Why do you despise my beauty, father? Do you know what another girl in my place would have done? She would have lost her mind and would have whirled about on earth like a dog that swallowed a pin. But what am I doing? I am studying, father. I am studying by day and night, father.
_In great agitation._
I don't know anything. I don't know how to speak, I don't even know how to walk--I stoop, I stoop as I walk.
SARAH.
That isn't true, Rosa.
ROSA.
_Agitated._
Here I have forgotten myself for a while, and I am shouting, I am croaking hoarsely, like a crow that has caught cold. I want to be beautiful--that's what I was born for. You laugh? It is in vain. Do you know that your daughter will be a duchess, a princess? I want to add a scepter to my crown!
ANATHEMA.
Oho!
_All three go out. David jumps from his seat angrily and paces the room quickly._
DAVID.
What a comedy, Nullius! Yesterday she begged Heaven for a herring, and to-day a crown is not enough for her. To-morrow she will take the throne away from Satan and will sit upon it, Nullius, and she will sit firmly! What a comedy!
_Anathema has changed the expression of his face; he is stern and morose._
ANATHEMA.
No, David Leizer, it is a tragedy.
DAVID.
'Tis a comedy, Nullius, a comedy. Don't you hear the laughter of Satan in all this?
_Pointing at the door._
You saw a corpse dancing--I see it every morning.
ANATHEMA.
Is Naum so dangerously ill?
DAVID.
Dangerously ill? Three physicians, three serious gentlemen, examined him yesterday and told me quietly that in a month from now Naum will die, that he is already more than half a corpse. And every morning I see in this white marble parlor a corpse jumping to the tune of music--is it not a dream, Nullius? Is it not the laughter of Satan?
ANATHEMA.
And what did they say about your health, David?
DAVID.
I did not ask them. I don't want them to tell me. You may also jump to the tune of music, David. How would you like it, Nullius: two corpses dancing in a white marble hall?
_He laughs bitterly._
ANATHEMA.
You frighten me, my friend. What is going on within your soul?
DAVID.
Do not touch my soul, Nullius--there is horror in it!
_Clasps his head._
Oh! what shall I do? What shall I do? I am alone in the whole world.
ANATHEMA.
What ails you, David? Calm yourself.
DAVID.
_Stopping before Anathema, horror-stricken._
Death, Nullius, death! You have brought us death. Was I not mute before the face of Death? Did I not wait for it as for a friend? But here you have brought us riches--and I want to dance. I want to dance, yet death clutches at my heart; I want to eat, for hunger has entered my very bones,--but my old stomach refuses to accept any food; I want to laugh, but my face is sobbing, my eyes are weeping, and my soul is crying with mortal fear. Hunger has crept into my bones, and poison is already in my blood--there is no salvation for me; Death has overtaken me.
ANATHEMA.
_Significantly._
The poor are waiting for you, David.
DAVID.
What matters it?
ANATHEMA.
The poor are waiting for you, David.
DAVID.
The poor are always waiting.
ANATHEMA.
_Sternly._
Now I see that you are really lost, David. God has forsaken you.
_David stops and looks at him, surprised and angry. Anathema, with head thrown back haughtily, meets his look calmly and sternly. Silence._
DAVID.
You say this to me, Nullius?
ANATHEMA.
Yes, I say this to you, David Leizer. Beware, David Leizer, you are in Satan's hands.
DAVID.
_Terrified._
Nullius, my friend, you frighten me. What have I done to deserve your anger and these cruel, terrible words of yours? You have always treated me and my children so kindly.... Your hair is just as grey as mine, in your face I have long observed a hidden grief, and--I respect you, Nullius! Why are you silent? A terrible fire is burning in your eyes.--Who are you, Nullius? But you are silent.--No, no, do not lower your eyes, I am even more terrified when they are lowered, for then upon your brow appear fiery letters of some vague--of some terrible--fatal truth.
ANATHEMA.
_Tenderly._
David!
DAVID.
_Joyously._
You have started to speak, Nullius.
ANATHEMA.
Be silent and listen to me. From madness I will bring you back to wisdom, from death to life.
DAVID.
I am silent and I am listening.
ANATHEMA.
Your madness consists of this, David Leizer,--you have sought for God all your life, and when God came to you, you said: "I do not know You." Your death consists of this, David Leizer,--blinded by misfortunes, like a horse that is turning around in the darkness, you failed to notice the people and you remained in their midst alone, with your illness and your riches. There in the yard Life is waiting for you--and you, blind man, you close the door against it. Dance, David, dance,-- Death has lifted the bow and is waiting for you. Be more graceful, David Leizer, more graceful; round out your steps more neatly!
DAVID.
What do you want of me?
ANATHEMA.
Return to God that which God has given to you.
DAVID.
_Darkly._
Has God given me anything?
ANATHEMA.
Every rouble in your pocket is a knife which you thrust into the heart of the hungry. Distribute your fortune to the poor, give bread to the hungry, and you will conquer Death.
DAVID.
No one gave a crust of bread to David when he was hungry. By satisfying their hunger, will I still the hunger that is in my bones?
ANATHEMA.
In them your own hunger will be stilled.
DAVID.
Shall I get back my health and my strength?
ANATHEMA.
In them you will be strong.
DAVID.
Shall I drive out death, already in my blood, which is as thin as water, which is already in my veins, that have become hard like dried-up cords? Shall I recover life?
ANATHEMA.
By their life you will prolong your life. Now you have but one heart, David,--but then you will have a million hearts.
DAVID.
But I shall die!
ANATHEMA.
No, you will be immortal!
_David retreats in horror._
DAVID.
Your lips have uttered a terrible word. Who are you that you dare promise immortality? Are not life and death in the hand of God?
ANATHEMA.
God said: Reestablish life through life.
DAVID.
But people are wicked and vicious, and the hungry one is nearer to God than the well-fed.
ANATHEMA.
Remember Hannah and Benjamin....
DAVID.
Be silent!
ANATHEMA.
Remember Raphael and little Moishe....
DAVID.
_Grief-stricken._
Be silent, be silent!
ANATHEMA.
Remember your little birds who died upon the cold branches of winter--
_David cries Utterly._
ANATHEMA.
When the lark sings in the blue sky, will you say to it: "Be silent, little bird, God does not need your song"--And will you not give a kernel to it when it is hungry? And will you not cover it upon your breast when it is cold, that it may feel warm and save its voice for Spring? Who are you, then, unfortunate man, who has no pity on birds and who turns children out into the storm? Remember how your little Moishe died. Remember, David, and say: "The people are vicious, wicked, and unworthy of my kindness!"
_David bends his knees as under a heavy weight and lifts his hands, as though warding off from his head a blow from the sky. He speaks hoarsely._
DAVID.
Adenoi! Adenoi!
_Anathema, with arms folded on his breast, looks at him in silence._
DAVID.
Mercy! Mercy!
ANATHEMA.
_Quickly._
David, the poor are waiting for you. They will go away soon.
DAVID.
No, no!
ANATHEMA.
The poor are always waiting, but they grow tired of waiting and they go away.
DAVID.
They will not go away from me. Oh, Nullius, Nullius!... Oh, wise Nullius! Oh, foolish Nullius! Is it possible that you did not understand that I have long been waiting for the poor and that their voice is in my ears and in my heart? When wheels are riding along a dust-covered road, on which rain had just fallen, they think as they turn and leave a trace: Here we are making a road. But the road was there before, Nullius, the road was there before!
_Gayly._
Call the poor over to me.
ANATHEMA.
Consider, David, whom you are calling.
_Darkly._
Do not deceive me, David.
DAVID
I have never deceived any one, Nullius.
_Resolutely and majestically._
You spoke and I was silent, and I listened; now be silent and listen to me: I have given my soul not to man but to God, and His power is over me. And I command you: Call my wife Sarah over here, and my children Naum and Rosa, and all the people in my household, whoever they may be.
ANATHEMA.
_Obediently._
I shall call them.
DAVID.
And call the poor who are waiting for me in the yard. And when you go out on the street, see whether there are any poor people waiting for me, and if you see them, call them also. For my lips are burning with their thirst, their hunger torments my body with insatiable hunger, and I am hastening to announce to the people my last, unchangeable will. Go!
ANATHEMA.
_Obediently._
Your will is upon me.
_Anathema goes to the door. Silence._
DAVID.
The spirit of God has come over me. Adenoi. Adenoi.... Who was the terrible one that spoke through the voice of old Nullius, when he spoke about my little children who died? Only an arrow out of the bow of the Omniscient strikes the very heart with such good aim. My little birds.... Verily, You have saved me upon the edge of the abyss, and You have torn my spirit away from the clutches of the Devil. He who looks straight at the sun may grow blind, but with the lapse of time the light may come back to the revived eyes; but he who looks into darkness grows blind forever. My little birds....
_Suddenly he laughs softly and joyously, and he whispers._
I myself shall bring them bread and milk, I shall hide myself behind the bed-curtain that they should not see me--children are so tender and easily frightened and they are afraid of unfamiliar people; and I have such a terrible beard. (_Laughs._) I shall hide myself behind the bed-curtain and will watch how the children are eating. They need so little; they eat a little crust of bread and they have enough; they drink a cup of milk and they know no thirst any longer. Then they sing--But how strange! does not the night pass away when the sun comes? do not the waves, at the end of the storm, lie down calmly and quietly like lambs resting in the pasture? Whence came the alarm, the slight confusion, and the fear? Shades of unknown woes are passing over my soul and soaring noiselessly over my thoughts. Ah, if I remained poor, if I remained unknown, under the shade of the fence where the refuse is cast away! You have lifted me to the peak of the mountain and You show my old, sorrowful face to the world. But such is Your will. You will command--and the lamb will become a lion; You will command--and the furious lion will stretch out her powerful breasts to her little ones; You will command--and David Leizer, who has grown white in shade, will fearlessly rise to the sun. Adenoi! Adenoi!
_Sarah, Naum, and Rosa enter, alarmed._
SARAH.
David, what is it you have called us for? And why was your Nullius so strict when he told us of your command? We have not sinned against you, and if we have sinned, investigate it, but do not look at us so sternly.
ROSA.
May I sit down?
DAVID.
Be silent and wait. All those whom I have called are not here yet. Be seated, Rosa, if you are tired, but when the time comes, rise. You, too, may sit down, Naum.
_The servants enter irresolutely; a lackey, resembling an English Minister; a chamber-maid; a cook; a gardener; a dish-washer, and others. They move about in confusion. Soon about fifteen or twenty poor people enter, in groups. Among them are: Abraham Khessin, an old man; Sonka's girl; Joseph Kritsky, Sarah Lepke, and several other Jews and Jewesses. But there are also Greeks, and Little Russians, and Russians and other paupers whose nationality has been lost in rags and filth; two drunkards. Purikes, Ivan Bezkrainy, and the Organ-grinder, with the same outworn instrument, are also here. But Anathema is still away._
DAVID.
Please, please. Come in more boldly, don't stop at the threshold,--others are coming behind you. But it would be well if you wiped your feet first; this rich house is not mine, and I must return it as clean as when I took it.
KHESSIN.
We have not yet learned how to walk on rugs, and we have not yet any patent leather shoes, as your son Naum has. How do you do, David Leizer? Peace be upon your house.
DAVID.
Peace unto you, too, Abraham. But why do you call me David Leizer, when you used to call me simply David before?
KHESSIN.
You are now such a mighty man, David Leizer. Yes, I used to call you merely David before, but here I was waiting for you in the yard, and the longer I waited, the longer your name grew, Mr. David Leizer.
DAVID.
You are right, Abraham: when the sun sets, the shadows become longer, and when a man becomes smaller, his name grows longer. But wait another while, Abraham.
LACKEY.
_To drunkard._
You better move away from me.
DRUNKARD.
Keep quiet, fool! You are a servant here, while we are the guests.
LACKEY.
Ruffian! You aren't in a car here, that you spit on the floor.
DRUNKARD.
Mr. Leizer, a certain man, who looked like an old devil, caught me by the collar and said: "David Leizer, who received an inheritance, is calling you." I asked him, "What for?" So he answered: "David wants to make you his heir," and he began to laugh. And now that I came here, your servant is chasing me away.
DAVID.
_Smiling._
Nullius is a gay man and he never misses an opportunity for jesting. But you are my guest, and I ask you to wait.
SARAH.
_After some hesitancy._
Well, how is your business getting along, Ivan? You have fewer competitors now.
BEZKRAINY.
It's bad, Sarah; we have no customers.
PURIKES.
_Like an echo._
No customers.
SARAH.
_Compassionately._
Ai--Ai--Ai! It's bad, if there are no customers.
ROSA.
Don't speak, mamma. Do you want, perhaps, to smear my face again with soot?
_Pushing several paupers into the door, Anathema enters, apparently fatigued._
ANATHEMA.
Well, David, meanwhile receive these. Your millions frighten the poor, and nobody wanted to follow me, thinking that some deception is hidden here.
DRUNKARD.
This is the man who caught me by the collar.
ANATHEMA.
Ah, is that you? How do you do? How do you do?
DAVID.
Thank you, Nullius. Now take ink and paper and sit down near me, by the table; bring me my old counting-board.... As everything I am about to say is very important, I ask you to write it correctly and to make no errors--we shall give an account of every word before God. I ask you all to rise and listen attentively, striving to understand the great words which I am about to utter.
_Sternly._
Rise, Rosa.
SARAH.
God, have mercy on us! What are you going to do, David?
DAVID.
Be silent, Sarah. You will come with me.
ANATHEMA.
Ready.
_All listen, standing._
DAVID.
_Solemnly._
Upon the death of my brother, Moses Leizer, I received an inheritance (_on the counting-board_) of two million dollars.
ANATHEMA.
_Nervously, lifting four fingers._
Which means four million roubles.
DAVID.
_Sternly._
Do not interrupt me, Nullius. Yes, it does mean four million roubles. And now, submitting to the voice of my conscience and the command of God, and also in memory of my children, Hannah, Benjamin, Raphael, and Moses, who died of hunger and disease in their childhood....
_He lowers his head and weeps bitterly. Sarah also cries bitterly._
SARAH.
Oh, my little Moishe! David, David, our little Moishe is dead.
DAVID.
_Wiping his eyes with a large red handkerchief._
Be silent, Sarah. What was I going to say to them, Nullius?... Well, write, Nullius, write. I know.
_Firmly._
I have resolved, in accordance with the command of God, who is Truth and Mercy, to distribute all my possessions to the poor. Am I speaking properly, Nullius?
ANATHEMA.
I hear God in your words.
_At first no one believes David; but soon joyous doubts and unexpected fear come over them. As though in sleep the people repeat: "Four millions, four millions!" and they hide their faces with their hands. The Organ-grinder comes forward._
ORGAN-GRINDER.
_Morosely._
Will you buy me a new organ, David?
ANATHEMA.
Hush, musician! Back!
ORGAN-GRINDER.
_Retreating._
I want also a new monkey.
DAVID.
Let your hearts rejoice, O unfortunate people, and with a smile on your lips answer the mercy of Heaven. Go from here to the city, like heralds of happiness,--go through all its streets and squares, and shout everywhere: "David Leizer, the old Jew, who is to die soon, received an inheritance and now distributes it among the poor." And if you will see a man weeping, and a child whose face is bloodless and whose eyes are dim, and a woman whose breasts are shrunken like those of an old goat,--tell them also: "Go, David is calling you." Do I speak properly, Nullius?
ANATHEMA.
Yes, yes. But have you called all those who should be called?
DAVID.
And if you should see an intoxicated man slumbering amidst his vomitings, wake him and tell him: "Go, David is calling you." And if you should see a thief thrashed in the market-place by those he had robbed, call him also, with words of kindness, yet firm enough to be regarded as a command: "Go, David is calling you." And if you should see people who in their misery have become irritated and furious and who are beating one another with sticks and bits of brick, announce to them also in words of peace: "Go, David is calling you." And if you should see a bashful man, who while walking in the wide street lowers his eyes before the eyes of others, but who stares greedily when no one looks at him, tell him also in a low voice, without offending his pride: "Are you not looking for David? Go, he has long been waiting for you." And if in the evening, when the Devil sows the seeds of night over the earth, you should see a woman, hideously painted, just as the heathen paint the bodies of their dead, and who stares boldly, for she has lost all shame, and who lifts her shoulders, for fear of a blow, tell her also: "Go, David is calling you." Do I speak properly, Nullius?
ANATHEMA.
Yes, David. But have you called all who should be called?
DAVID.
And whatever form of aversion or fear poverty may assume, and in whatever colors misery may paint itself, and by whatever words suffering may fence itself around, rouse with a loud call those who are fatigued, in words of life return life to those who are dying! Do not trust the silence and the darkness if they obstruct your way like a wall: Shout more loudly into the silence and the darkness, for there dwells unspeakable horror.
ANATHEMA.
That's right, David, that's right! I see how your spirit climbs to the peak of the mountain and how you knock loudly at the iron gates of eternity: Open! I love you, David, I kiss your hand, David,--like a dog I am ready to crawl before you and to obey your commandments. Call, David, call! Rise, O earth! North and South, East and West, I command you, by the will of David, my master, answer the call of him who calls you, and stop at his feet like four oceans of tears. Call, David, call!
DAVID.
_Lifting his hands._
North and South....
ANATHEMA.
East and West....
DAVID.
David is calling you all.
ANATHEMA.
David is calling you all.
_Confusion, tears, laughter,--for all believe him now. Anathema kisses David's hand, springing about delightedly. He drags the Organ-grinder by the collar to the center._
ANATHEMA.
Look, David, here's a musician!
_Laughs and shakes the Organ-grinder._
So you don't want your old music, eh? You need a new monkey, eh? Perhaps you will ask for a powder that destroys the fleas? Ask; we shall give you everything.
DAVID.
Be quiet, Nullius, be quiet. We must work. You are an expert at counting, Nullius, are you not?
ANATHEMA.
I? Oh, Rabbi David! I am myself Numbers, I am myself--Measures and Weights.
DAVID.
Be seated, then; write and count. But there is one more thing, my dear children: I am an old Jew, who can divide a piece of garlic into ten portions. I know not only the need of man, but I saw also how a roach was starving--yes,--I saw also how small children died of hunger....
_Lowers his head and heaves a deep sigh._
Therefore do not deceive me, and remember that there is a number and a measure for everything. And where ten copecks are needed, do not ask for twenty, and where one measure of grain is needed, do not ask for two, for what is superfluous for one is always essential to another. Like brothers having one mother whose breasts are full but are quickly exhausted, do not abuse one another, and do not offend the generous but careful mother.... You may begin. Nullius, is everything ready?
ANATHEMA.
You may begin. I am waiting, David.
DAVID.
Stand in line, then, I beg you. I have not received the money yet; it is still in America, but I shall write down exactly how much each one of you is to get according to his need.
SARAH.
David, David, what are you doing with us? Look at Rosa, look at poor Naum.
_Naum is dumfounded--he wants to say something, but is unable; he clutches the air with outstretched fingers. A little distance away from him, alone in her youth, strength, and beauty, amidst all these poor people, with emaciated faces and flat breasts, stands Rosa, who looks at her father defiantly._
ROSA.
Are we less your children than these who have been picked up in the street? And are we not brother and sister to those who died?
DAVID.
Rosa is right, mother,--everybody will get the proper share.
ROSA.
Yes? But do you know, father, what is the proper share for everybody?
_She laughs bitterly and wants to go away._
DAVID.
_Gently and sadly._
Stay here, Rosa!
ROSA.
I have nothing to do here. I have heard you call everybody.... Oh, you called very loudly! ... But did you call the beautiful? I have nothing to do here.
_Goes out._
SARAH.
_Rising irresolutely._
Rosochka!...
DAVID.
_As gently as before, with a smile._
Stay here, mother. Where will you go? You will come with me.
_Naum makes a few steps after Rosa, then he returns and sits down near Sarah._
DAVID.
Ready, Nullius? Come over, then, honorable man, you who stand first in the line.
KHESSIN.
_Advancing._
Here I am, David.
DAVID.
What is your name?
KHESSIN.
My name is Abraham Khessin.... But have you forgotten my name? You and I played together when we were children.
DAVID.
Hush! It is necessary for the sake of maintaining order, Abraham. Write the name clearly, Nullius. This is the first who waited for me and upon whom the will of my God has manifested itself.
ANATHEMA.
_Writes carefully._
Number one.... I'll rule the paper later, David. Number one: Abraham Khessin....
NAUM.
_In a low voice._
Mamma, I will not dance any more.
CURTAIN.