Anathema A Tragedy in Seven Scenes 17

Anathema A Tragedy in Seven Scenes 17

It is possible. Is it true that he wants to take away the power from

the rich and bestow it upon the poor? (_In a whisper._) And to take the

power from those who rule, the might from those who are in command,

and distribute it among all the people on earth, giving an equal share

to each of them?

 

KHESSIN.

 

I do not know

 

_Timidly._

 

You frighten me, old man.

 

WANDERER.

 

_Looking around cautiously._

 

And is it true that he has already sent heralds to the black people

that they, too, shall prepare themselves to accept the new kingdom, for

he wants to bestow the power equally upon the black as upon the white,

giving to each one according to his desire.

 

(_In a mysterious whisper._)

 

In accordance with justice.

 

_On the road appears David Leizer, walking slowly;

in his right hand, a staff; Anathema is holding

his left arm reverently. There is agitation and

confusion among the waiting crowd: the musicians

rush for their instruments; the women pick up their

children quickly. They shout: "He's coming! He's

coming!" They call: "Moishe, Petya, Sarah!"_

 

WANDERER.

 

And is it true....

 

KHESSIN.

 

Ask him. Here he is coming.

 

_Noticing the crowd, Anathema stops David, who is

absorbed in thought, and he points triumphantly

to the people. Thus they stand for some time:

David with his grey head thrown back, and Anathema

clinging close to him. Anathema whispers something

in David's ear and keeps on pointing with his left

hand. Leibke, bustling about desperately, gets

his orchestra together and they begin to play a

lively wild tune which is as discordant as the

fluttering parti-colored rags. Shouting, laughter,

the children are rushing forward, some one is

crying; many people are outstretching their hands

prayerfully to David. Then David moves forward

amidst this chaos of lively sounds. The crowd makes

room for him to pass; many throw branches and twigs

on the ground and spread their clothes before him;

women tear of their head-dress and throw it at

his feet on the dusty road. Thus he walks over to

Sarah, who rises and welcomes him together with the

other women. The music stops. But David is silent.

Confusion._

 

KHESSIN.

 

Why are you silent, David? The people you have made happy are greeting

you and spreading their clothing before you on the ground, for their

love is great and their hearts cannot comprise all their joy. Say a

word to them--they are waiting.

 

_David remains standing, with lowered eyes; with

both hands he is leaning on his staff; his face is

stern and serious. Anathema looks at him, over his

shoulder, with alarm._

 

ANATHEMA.

 

They are waiting for you, David. Say unto them a word of joy and calm

their love.

 

_David is silent._

 

WOMAN.

 

Why are you silent, David? You frighten us. Are you not the David who

brings joy to mankind?

 

ANATHEMA.

 

_Impatiently._

 

Speak, David. Their agitated ears are waiting for a word of joy and by

your silence, which is like the dumbness of the rock, you crush their

soul to the earth. Speak!

 

DAVID.

 

_Lifting his eyes and surveying the crowd sternly._

 

Wherefore these honors and the noise of voices, and the music which

plays so loudly? To whom do you render honors worthy of a prince or of

one who has performed a great deed? Is it before me, before a poor old

man who must die soon, that you spread out your clothes upon the ground?

What have I done to deserve your delight and exultation, to force tears

of senseless joy from your eyes? I gave you money and bread--but that

was the money of the Uppermost, it came from Him and went back to Him

through you. The only thing I have done was not to hide the money like

a thief, I did not become a plunderer, like those who have forgotten

God. Do I speak properly, Nullius?

 

ANATHEMA.

 

No, David, no. Your speech is not worthy of a wise man and it does not

come forth from the lips of a humble man.

 

OLD MAN.

 

Bread without love is like grass without salt,--the stomach may

be filled, but it leaves a bad taste in the mouth, and a bitter

recollection.

 

DAVID.

 

Have I forgotten anything, Nullius? Remind me, my friend: I am old and

my eyesight is poor, but do I not see musicians there, Nullius? Tell

me! Do I not see flags as red as the tongues of crows over my head?

Tell me, Nullius.

 

ANATHEMA.

 

You have forgotten the people, David. You do not see the children,

David Leizer.

 

DAVID.

 

The children?

 

_The women, weeping, hold out their children to

David._

 

VOICES.

 

"Bless my son, David!" ... "Touch my little girl with your hand,

David." "Bless." ... "Touch her with your hand." ...

 

DAVID.

 

_Raising his hands heavenward._

 

Oh, Hannah, oh, Benjamin, oh, Raphael, and my little Moishe!...

 

_Looks down, outstretching his arms to the

children._

 

DAVID.

 

Oh, my little birds who died on the naked branches of the winter!...

Oh, children, my children, little children, tiny children!...

Well, Nullius, am I not weeping? Am I not weeping, Nullius? Well,

let everybody weep. Let the musicians play, Nullius--I understand

everything now. Oh, children, little children, I gave you all, I gave

you my old heart, I gave you my sorrow and my joy--Did I not give them

all my soul, Nullius?

 

_Crying and laughing through tears._

 

You have again wrenched my soul from the jaws of sin, Nullius. On the

day of rejoicing I appeared mournful before the people, on the day of

the people's exultation I did not raise my eyes to Heaven, but lowered

them to the ground,--bad old man that I am. Whom did I want to deceive

with my insincerity? Do I not live by day and night in raptures of

joy, and do I not draw love and happiness with full hands? Why have I

feigned sadness?... I do not know your name, woman; give me your child,

the one that is laughing when everybody is crying, because he alone is

sensible.

 

_Smiling through tears._

 

Or are you perhaps afraid that I will steal it like a gypsy?

 

_The woman kneels and holds out her child._

 

WOMAN.

 

Take it, David! Everything belongs to you,--we and our children.

 

SECOND WOMAN.

 

Take mine, too, David!

 

THIRD WOMAN.

 

Mine, mine!

 

DAVID.

 

_Takes the child and presses it to his breast,

covering it with his grey beard._

 

Hush!... It's my beard! Oh, what a terrible beard! But never fear, my

little one, press to me more closely and laugh--you are the wisest of

all. Sarah, my wife, come over here.

 

SARAH.

 

_Weeping._

 

I am here.

 

DAVID.