anathema A Tragedy in Seven Scenes 15

anathema A Tragedy in Seven Scenes 15

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.

 

 

 

 

ACT THREE

 

 

_The same dust-covered road, with the bent posts and the old, deserted

sentinel-box; the same little shops. The sun is burning as mercilessly

as when Anathema first appeared there._

 

_A large number of poor people are gathered there to welcome David

Leizer, who had distributed his fortune among the poor. The air is

rent by shouting, motion, and merry bustling. Purikes, Bezkrainy, and

Sonka, happy now, and proud of their shops, are doing a brisk business

in soda-water and candies. Sarah Leizer is sitting as before near her

little shop, dressed neatly but poorly._

 

_A solemn welcome is arranged for David and Anathema, who had gone to

the seashore. All the little shops, even the posts and the deserted

sentinel-box, are decorated with parti-colored rags and with branches

of trees; on the right side of the road, upon the scorched grass,

an orchestra is preparing to meet David--several Jews with various

instruments, among which there are: a good violin, cymbals, a broken

brass trumpet, and even a drum, slightly broken. The members of

the orchestra are scolding one another criticizing each other's

instruments._

 

_There are a number of children in the crowd. Also, little babes in

arms. Abraham Khessin and those who were in line when David started to

distribute his money are there; a little distance away from the crowd

stands the stern organ-grinder, with his organ._

 

YOUNG JEW.

 

_Blowing his crushed trumpet._

 

But why does it play only on one side? Such a good trumpet.

 

VIOLINIST.

 

_Agitated._

 

What do you want to do with me? How can you welcome David Leizer with

such a trumpet? You might as well have brought along a cat and pulled

her by the tail, and think that David would call you his son?

 

YOUNG JEW.

 

_Obstinately._

 

It's a good trumpet. My father played it when he was in the army, and

everybody was thankful to him.

 

VIOLINIST.

 

Your father played it, but who sat upon it? Why is it so crushed? How

can you welcome David Leizer with such a crushed trumpet?

 

YOUNG JEW.

 

_With tears._

 

It's a very good trumpet.

 

VIOLINIST.

 

_To a clean-shaven old man._

 

Is that your drum? Tell me, do you seriously believe that this is a

drum? Have you ever seen another drum with a hole big enough for a dog

to crawl through?

 

KHESSIN.

 

Don't get excited, Leibke. You are a very talented man, and your music

will be fine, and David Leizer will be greatly moved by it.

 

VIOLINIST.

 

But I can't bear it. You are a very honorable man, Abraham Khessin, you

have lived long in the world, but have you ever seen such a big hole in

a drum?

 

KHESSIN.

 

No, Leibke, I haven't seen such a big hole, but that is not at all

important. David Leizer was a multimillionaire, he had twenty million

roubles, but he is unspoiled and humble, and your love will afford

him joy. Does the soul need a drum to be able to express its love?

I see here people who have neither drums nor trumpets, and who weep

for happiness--their tears are noiseless like the dew.--Rise higher,

Leibke, rise a little higher to the sky, and you will not hear any

drums there, but therefore you will hear the tears falling.

 

OLD MAN.

 

You mustn't quarrel and darken the days of bright happiness,--that

would be disagreeable to David.

 

_A Wanderer is listening to their conversation;

his face is stern and swarthy. His hair and his

clothes are covered with dust. He is guarded in his

movements, but his eyes, lustreless, stare ahead

fixedly, like open windows at night._

 

WANDERER.

 

He has brought peace and happiness on earth, and the whole world knows

of him already. I have come from distant places, where the people are

different from you, and where the customs are different from yours, and

only in their suffering and their misery they are your brethren. And

there they know already about David Leizer, who distributes bread and

happiness, and they bless his name.

 

KHESSIN.

 

Do you hear, Sarah?

 

_Wiping his eyes._

 

It is of your husband they are speaking, of David Leizer.