anathema A Tragedy in Seven Scenes 22

anathema A Tragedy in Seven Scenes 22

ANATHEMA.

 

They are waiting for a miracle, David.

 

DAVID.

 

_Rising, with fear._

 

Be silent, Nullius, be silent,--you are tempting God. Who am I that I

should perform miracles? Bethink yourself, Nullius. Can I make two

copecks of one? Can I come over to the mountains and say: "Mountains

of the earth, turn into mountains of bread and satisfy the hunger of

the hungry"? Can I come over to the ocean and say: "Sea of water as

salty as tears, turn into a sea of milk and honey and quench the thirst

of the thirsty"? Think of it, Nullius!

 

ANATHEMA.

 

Did you see the blind?

 

DAVID.

 

Only once did I dare lift my eyes,--but I saw strange, grey people,

into whose eyes some one had spat something white, and they feel the

air as if it were a danger, and they fear the earth as though it were a

horror. What do they want, Nullius?

 

ANATHEMA.

 

Did you see the sick and the maimed, with organs of the body

missing,--did you see them crawl on the ground? Out of the pores of the

earth they come like a perspiration of blood--the earth is of them.

 

DAVID.

 

Be silent, Nullius.

 

ANATHEMA.

 

Did you see people who are devoured by their conscience: their face is

dark, as though scorched by fire, and their eyes are surrounded with

white rings, and they run about in a circle like mad horses? Did you

see people who look straight ahead, and in their hands they hold long

staffs for measuring the road? These are the people searching after

truth.

 

DAVID.

 

I dared not look any further.

 

ANATHEMA.

 

Did you hear the voice of the earth, David?

 

_Enter Sarah; she advances to David timidly._

 

DAVID.

 

Is that you, Sarah? Shut the door tightly, do not leave a crevice

behind you. What is it you wish, Sarah?

 

SARAH.

 

_With fear and faith._

 

Are you not entirely prepared yet, David? Make haste and go out to the

people: they are tired of waiting and many of them fear death. Dismiss

these, for others are coming, David, and soon there will be no place

for a man to stand. The water has already given out in the fountains

and they are not bringing any bread from the city, as you have ordered,

David.

 

DAVID.

 

_Uplifting his hands; horrified._

 

Awaken, Sarah, sleep has enmeshed you in nets of cunning and your heart

is poisoned with the madness of love. It is I, David!...

 

_With fear._

 

And I did not command to bring bread.

 

SARAH.

 

If you are not quite ready, David, they can wait. But order lamps

lighted and give bedding for the women and the children,--for night

will soon set in and the earth will grow cold. And order them to give

milk to the children--they are starved. There, in the distance, we have

heard the sound of innumerable footsteps: are those not herds of cows

and goats, full of milk, driven here at your command?

 

DAVID.

 

_Hoarsely._

 

Oh, my God, my God!...

 

ANATHEMA.

 

_In a low voice, to Sarah._

 

Go away, Sarah: David is praying. Do not disturb his prayer.

 

_Sarah goes away timidly and cautiously._

 

DAVID.

 

Mercy! Mercy!

 

_The noise outside the windows subsides. Suddenly

it is heard again: Sarah had notified them that

they must wait._

 

DAVID.

 

Mercy! Mercy!

 

ANATHEMA.

 

_In a commanding tone._

 

David be a man in the face of the great fear. Did you not call them here? Did

you not call loudly, in a voice of love, to the silence and the

darkness where unspeakable horror dwells? And now they have come to

you--North and South, East and West, and like four oceans of tears they

have stretched themselves at your feet. Rise, David!

 

DAVID.

 

What shall I do, Nullius?

 

ANATHEMA.

 

Tell them the truth.

 

DAVID.

 

What shall I do, Nullius? Shall I perhaps take a rope and, hanging it

upon a tree, strangle myself like the one who had once betrayed? Am

I, perhaps, a traitor, having called them and not given anything to

them, and loving them in order to destroy them? Oh, how my heart is

aching!... Oh, how my heart is aching, Nullius! Oh, I feel as cold as

the ground that is covered with ice, and within it there is heat and

white flame. Oh, Nullius, have you seen the white flame on which the

moon turns dark and the sun burns like yellow straw?

 

_He tosses about._

 

Hide me, Nullius. Is there not a dark room, where the light does

not penetrate? are there not strong walls through which I would not

hear these voices? Whither are they calling me? I am a sick old man, I

cannot endure and suffer so long--I myself had small children, and did

they not die? What were their names, Nullius? I have forgotten. Who is

it they call David, the man who has brought joy to mankind?

 

ANATHEMA.

 

That was your name, David Leizer. You are deceived, Leizer. You are

deceived even as I am deceived!

 

DAVID.

 

_With entreaty._

 

Protect me, Nullius. Go out to them and tell them aloud, so they

all can hear: "David Leizer is a sick old man, and he has nothing

left." They will listen to you, Nullius,--you have such a respectful

appearance,--and they will return to their homes.

 

ANATHEMA.

 

Yes, yes, David. You see the truth already, and you will soon proclaim

it to the people. Ha, ha! Who said that David Leizer could perform

miracles?

 

DAVID.

 

_Folding his arms._

 

Yes, yes, Nullius.

 

ANATHEMA.

 

Who dares demand miracles of Leizer? Is he not a sick old man,--mortal

like all the rest?

 

DAVID.

 

Yes, yes, Nullius,--a man.

 

ANATHEMA.

 

Did not love deceive Leizer? It said to him: "I shall do

everything,"--and it raised only dust on the road like the blind wind

from behind a corner, which bursts in noisily and lies down quietly,

which blinds the eyes and stirs up the dust. Let us go, then, to Him

who gave love to David, and ask Him: "Wherefore did you deceive our brother David?"