Anathema A Tragedy in Seven Scenes 8
Wash your face! Wash your face, Rosa! My God, quicker, quicker,--wash
your face!
_As though insane, she drags Rosa, washes her,
splashing the water with trembling hands. Naum
clings to his father's arm, hanging on to it, as
though he is about to lose consciousness._
DAVID.
Take back your paper! (_Firmly._) Take back your paper!
SARAH.
Have you lost your mind, David? Don't listen to him. Wash yourself,
Rosochka, wash yourself! Let all the people see your beauty!
NAUM.
_Seizing the paper._
It is ours, father. Father,--this is how God has answered you. Look at
mother, look at Rosa--look at me: I was already commencing to die.
PURIKES.
_Shouts._
Ai, Ai, look out, they'll tear the paper. Ai, Ai, take away the paper
from them, quick!
_Naum cries, Rosa, radiantly beautiful, her hair
wet, but no longer covering her eyes, comes over to
her father, laughing._
ROSA.
It is I, father! It is I! It is--I!
SARAH.
_Wildly._
Where were you, Rosa?
ROSA.
I wasn't--I've just been born, mamma!
SARAH.
See, David, see--a human being has just been born! Oh, look at her,
every one of you! Oh, open the doors of your vision, throw open the
gates of your eyes--look at her, every one of you!
_Suddenly David realizes the meaning of what has
happened. He throws his cap from his head, tears
his clothing, which seems to suffocate him, and
pushing everybody aside, rushes to Anathema._
DAVID.
_Sternly._
Why have you brought this?
ANATHEMA.
_Meekly._
But, pardon me, Mr. Leizer, I am only a lawyer. I am sincerely glad.
DAVID.
Why have you brought this?
_He pushes Anathema aside, and reeling, goes to the
road. Suddenly he stops, turns around and shouts,
flourishing his hands._
DAVID.
I Drive him away--that is the Devil. Do you think he brought me four
million roubles? No, he brought me four million insults. Four million
mockeries he hurled upon the head of David ... Four oceans of bitter
tears have I shed over life, my sighs were four winds of the earth,
my four children were devoured by hunger and diseases--and now, when
I must die, he brings me four millions. Will they return to me my
youth which I passed in privation, oppressed with grief, wrapped with
sorrows, crowned with anguish? Will they repay me for one day of my
starvation, one tear that fell upon a rock, one insult hurled at my
face? Four million curses--that's what your four million roubles
are--oh, Hannah, oh, Benjamin, and Raphael, and my little Moishe,--you,
my little birdies, who died of hunger upon the naked branches of
winter--what will you say if your father should touch this money? No, I
don't need any money. I am telling you--I, an old Jew, dying of hunger.
I don't need any money. I don't see God in this. But I shall go to Him,
I shall tell Him: What are you doing with David?--I am going.
_Goes away, brandishing his hands._
SARAH.
_Crying._
David, come back, come back.
PURIKES.
_In despair._
The paper, pick up the paper.
ANATHEMA.
_Turns around._
Calm yourself, madam Leizer, he will come back. It is always thus at
first. I have wandered a great deal over the world and I know it. The
blood rushes to the head, the feet begin to quiver, and man curses.
That's nonsense!
ROSA.
What a crooked mirror, mother!
NAUM.
_Cries._
Mamma, where is father going? I want to live.
ANATHEMA.
Throw away that piece of glass, Rosa. Mankind will reflect your beauty,
the world will reflect your beauty--you will see yourself in the
world.... Ah, you are still here, musician. Play something for us,
please. Such a holiday must not pass without music!
ORGAN-GRINDER.
Shall I play the same?
ANATHEMA.
The same.
_The organ wails and wheezes. Anathema whistles
furiously, waving his hands, as though blessing
everybody with the music and the whistling._
CURTAIN.
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.
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