Sarah,--consider you all. Have I not given everything away to you? I
have nothing left. Have pity on me even as I had pity on you,--and kill
my unnecessary body with stones. I love you--and words of anger are
powerless upon my lips, and wrath upon loving lips does not frighten
you--have pity on me. I have nothing more. I have a little blood in
my veins, but would I not give away the last drop of it, if I could
only quench your bitter thirst? Like a sponge I would have squeezed my
heart between the palms of my hands--and the cunning heart, so greedy
for life, would not dare hide a single drop....
_Be tears his clothes and scratches his chest with
his nails._
Here my blood is flowing--my blood is flowing? has a single one of
you smiled a smile of joy? Here I am tearing the hair of my beard and
I fling the grey locks--I fling them at your feet--has a single dead
person risen? Here I spit into your eyes--will one blind man regain his
sight? Here I bite the rocks--the rocks--like a mad beast--will one
hungry person be satiated? Here I hurl myself at you--
_Be makes several quick steps, and the crowd
retreats in horror._
ANATHEMA.
That's right, David! Strike them!
SARAH.
_Retreating._
Oh, do not punish us, David.
WANDERER.
_To the crowd._
He obeys the one who carried him off. He says: I shall not give
anything to the people. He spits and says he spits into the eyes of the
people....
_Cries of horror and growing malice. But in the
distance there are still prayerful wailings:
"Da-vid! Da-vid! Da-vid!"_
SOMEONE.
He dares not spit at the people. We have done him no wrong.
ANOTHER VOICE.
I saw it, I saw it. He lifted stones. Defend yourselves.
ANATHEMA.
Be on your guard; they will soon throw stones at you. They are beasts.
WANDERER.
_To David._
You have deceived us, you Jew.
SARAH.
Do not dare speak like this.
KHESSIN.
_Seizes the Wanderer by the chest._
Another word and I shall choke you.
DAVID.
_Shouting._
I have not deceived any one. I have given everything away and have
nothing left.
ANATHEMA.
Do you hear, fools? David has nothing.
_Laughs._
Nothing. Am I not telling the truth, David?
WANDERER.
Do you hear? He has nothing. Why, then, did he call us? He has deceived
us. He has deceived us.
KHESSIN.
_Perplexed._
But that is true, Sarah; he himself says that he has nothing.
SARAH.
Do not mind David. He is ill. He is tired. He will give us everything.
WANDERER.
_With sorrow and anger._
How could you do that, David? What have you done with the people,
accursed one?
RESTLESS MAN.
Listen what David, who has brought joy to mankind, has done to me. He
promised me ten roubles, and then took it back and gave me one copeck,
and I thought that the copeck was not really a copeck--I went to a
store with it and demanded a great deal, but they laughed and chased me
away as a thief. You are the thief. You are the robber; you have left
my children without milk. Here is your copeck.
_Throws the copeck at David's feet. Many other
people follow his example._
SARAH.
_Defending David._
Do not dare offend David.
_David weeps silently, his face covered with his
hands._
ANGRY MAN.
Traitor! He raised the dead out of their graves in order to make sport
of them. Strike him with stones.
_Bends down to lift a stone. A strong wind rises;
in the distance thunder-peals resound. The mob is
horror-stricken._
DAVID.
_Raising his head and baring his chest._
Stone me--I am a traitor!
_Louder thunder-peals. Anathema laughs merrily._
WANDERER.
Traitor! Stone him! He has deceived us! He has betrayed us! He has lied
to us!
_Confusion. They advance towards David, lifting
stones; some flee, sobbing._
DAVID.
Take me. I am going to you.
ANATHEMA.
Where? They will kill you!
DAVID.
You are my enemy. Leave me.
_Releases himself from his grasp._
WANDERER.
_Raising a stone above his head._
Back! Satan!
ANATHEMA.
_Hastily._
Curse them, David. They will soon put you to death. Quick!
_David lifts his arms and sinks down, struck by
a stone. Almost in silence, grumbling, they hurl
stones upon his motionless body. Thunder-peals.
Anathema is laughing. Suddenly a woman screams.
Then another. All are shouting. The mob runs away.
The last one lifts a stone to throw it on David's
head, but looks around and finding himself alone,
lets the stone fall out of his hand and runs away
with a wild outcry._
ANATHEMA.
_Swaying himself in every direction, he leaps upon
a rock, jumps down, then up again._
Ah, you have triumphed, David!
_Laughter._
Look! Look how the herd you have cursed is fleeing. Ha, ha! They are
falling from the rocks. Ha, ha! They are hurling themselves into
the sea. Ha! They are trampling children under their feet. Look,
David,--they are trampling upon children. You have done it. Great and
mighty David Leizer! Favorite son of God! You have done it. Ha, ha, ha!
_He whirls around, madly laughing._
Ah, where shall I go with my joy? Ah, where shall I go with my tidings?
the earth is too small for it! East and West! North and South! Look
and listen. David, who has brought joy to mankind, is put to death by
mankind and by God. And upon his ill-smelling corpse I--Anathema--will
put my foot.
_To heaven._
Do you hear? Answer, if you can.
_He tramples upon David's body. Then a groan is
heard, and David's grey, blood-stained head lifts
itself, quivering strangely._
ANATHEMA.
_Retreating._
You are still alive? You have lied even this time.
DAVID.
_Crawls._
I am coming to you. Wait for me, Sarah. One moment.
ANATHEMA.
_Bending over, examines David._
You are crawling? Like myself? Like a dog? After them?
DAVID.
_In the agony of death._
Oh, I cannot reach them. Carry me, Nullius. Do I say that it is not
necessary to stone me? Oh, let them stone me. Carry me, Nullius. I
shall lie down quietly on the threshold, I shall only look through the
crevice and see how the little children are eating.... Oh, my beard....
Oh, my terrible beard.... Oh, don't be afraid, my little one,--you
alone are laughing. My little children, my tiny little children....
ANATHEMA.
_Stamping his foot._
You are mistaken, David. You are dead. And your children are dead. The
earth is dead--dead--dead. Look.
_David rises with difficulty and looks into the
distance, his weak hands outstretched._
DAVID.
I see, Nullius. My old friend--my old friend, stay here, I beg you--and
I shall go to them. Do you know, Nullius....
_Confused._
I think that I found a copeck....
_Laughs quietly._
I told you, Nullius, to examine that paper. Abraham Khessin, my friend--
_Firmly._
Abraham Khessin is my friend....
_He sinks down and dies._
_Thunder in the distance. It is dark; the sun, red,
is seen on the horizon, near the water. It sets._
ANATHEMA.
_Bending over him._
Is it true this time? Are you dead? Or do you He again? No--it is an
honest death now. Let me have your fist. Open it. You don't want to?
But I am stronger than you.
_Rises and examines what David had in his hand._
A copeck!
_Throws it down with contempt. Pushes David with
his foot._
Farewell, fool. To-morrow people will find your body here and will bury
you with pomp, according to the custom of the people. Kind-hearted
murderers, they love those they kill. And out of the rocks with which
they stoned you for your love, they will erect a tall, crooked, and
stupid tombstone. And in order to enliven the stupid, dead pile of
stone, they will put me on the top.
_He laughs. Then he suddenly breaks of his laughter
and assumes a haughty pose._
Who shall wrench the victory from the hands of Anathema? The strong I
kill, the weak I force to whirl about in an intoxicating dance--a mad
dance--a devilish dance.
_He strikes the ground with his foot._
Be subdued, O earth, and bring me your gifts humbly! Kill, burn,
betray, O man, in the name of your master! I steer my boat over a sea
of blood which smells so sweetly,--and my sails are burning red--
_To heaven._
To you, for an answer! Not as a dog crawling on his belly, but as a
distinguished guest, as the reigning prince of the earth, I shall come
sailing to your mute shores.
_Majestically._
Be prepared. I shall demand an exact answer. Ha, ha, ha!
_Disappears in the darkness, bursting into
laughter._
CURTAIN.
EPILOGUE.
_Nothing has happened; nothing has changed. As before, the earth is
weighted down by the heavy iron Gates, closed from time immemorial,
beyond which dwells in silence and in mystery the Beginning of every
being, the Supreme Wisdom of the universe. And the Guardian of the
Entrances is just as silent and as sternly motionless as before.
Nothing has happened; nothing has changed._
_The grey light, as grey as the rocks, is terrible; the place is
terrible, but Anathema likes it. And he appears again; but he does
not crawl on his belly like a dog; nor does he hide himself beyond
the rocks like a thief. Like a conqueror, he is trying to seal his
victory by his haughty gait, by the importance of his slow movements.
But as the Devil can never be truthful, and as there are no bounds
to his doubts, he brings his duality even into this: He walks like
a conqueror, yet he is afraid; he throws his head back high like a
sovereign, and yet he laughs at his exaggerated self-importance; a
gloomy and malicious clown, he longs for greatness; and forced to
laugh, he despises laughter._
_Thus, assuming important airs beyond measure, he goes up to the
middle of the mountain and waits there in a haughty pose. But his
uncertain importance is devoured by the silence, even as dry wood is
devoured by fire--and he begins to hurry, without holding out the
pause, like a poor musician, striving to conceal himself and his doubts
and his odious fear in a vast deal of jests, in loud shouting and in
rapid gestures. He stamps his foot and shouts in a voice of assumed
sternness._
ANATHEMA.
Why are there no trumpets here? Why no celebration? Why are these old
and rusty gates closed? And why does no one hand me the keys? Is it
proper in decent circles to meet thus an eminent guest, the reigning
prince of the earth, which is friendly to us? Only the doorkeeper is
here, apparently asleep, and no one else. It is bad--bad!
_He bursts into laughter, and stretching himself wearily, sits down
upon a rock. He speaks humbly and with an air of fatigue._
But I am not vainglorious. Trumpets, flowers, and shouting--all this is
useless! I myself heard at one time how the people trumpeted glory for
David Leizer, but what has come of it?
_He heaves a sigh._
It is sad to think of it.
_He whistles mournfully._
You have surely heard of the misfortune that has come upon my friend
David Leizer? I remember when I last chatted with you,--you did
not know this name then.... But do you know it now? It is a name to
be proud of! When I left the earth, the entire earth in a million
of hungry throats called this glorious name, shouting: "David is a
deceiver! David is a traitor! David is a liar!" Then it seemed to me
that some of the people reproached also another one--for my honest
friend, who died an untimely death, did not act so incautiously in his
own name.
_The Guardian is silent. And Anathema shouts now
with an air of real triumph, breathing malice._
The name! Call the name of him who has ruined David and thousands of
people! I, Anathema, have no heart, my eyes have dried up from the fire
of Hell, and there are no tears in them, but if the tears were there I
would have given them all to David. I have no heart, but there was an
instant when something five trembled in my chest, and I was frightened:
I wondered whether a heart could be born. I saw how David was perishing
and thousands of people with him, I saw how his spirit, grown dark,
curled up piteously like a dead worm in the sun, was hurled down into
the abyss of non-existence, into my abode of darkness and death....
Tell me, are you not the one who has ruined David?
GUARDIAN OF THE ENTRANCES.
David has attained immortality, and he lives forever in the
deathlessness of fire. David has attained immortality, and he fives
forever in the deathlessness of fight, which is fife.
_Dumfounded, Anathema falls to the ground and lies
motionless for an instant. Then he lifts his head,
which is as angry as that of a serpent. He rises
and speaks with the calm of boundless wrath._
ANATHEMA.
You fie! Forgive me my daring, but you fie. Surely your power is
immense--and you can give immortality to a dead worm that has turned
black from the sun. But would that be just? Or do the numbers fie to
which you, too, must submit? Or do all the scales fie, and is all your
world nothing but one fie,--a cruel and mad game of laws, a malicious
laugh of a despot at the dumbness and submissiveness of the slave?
_He speaks gloomily, in the grief of deathless
blindness._
ANATHEMA.
I am tired of searching. I have grown tired of life, of aimless
tortures--of the quest after the ever elusive. Give me death, but do
not torment me with ignorance; answer me honestly, even as I am honest
in my uprising as a slave. Did not David love? Answer. Did not David
give his soul away? Answer. And did they not stone David, who had given
his soul away? Answer.
GUARDIAN.
Yes. They stoned David, who had given his soul away.
ANATHEMA.
_Smiling darkly._
Now you are honest and you answer me with modesty. Without having
stilled the hunger of the hungry, without having restored sight
to the blind, without having brought to life those who had died
innocently,--having stirred up dissension and dispute and cruel
bloodshed, for the people have already risen against one another and
are committing violence, murder, and plunder in the name of David,--did
not David manifest the powerlessness of love, and did he not create a
great evil which could be numbered and weighed?
GUARDIAN.
Yes. David has done that which you say; and the people have done that
of which you accuse them. And the numbers do not lie, and the scales
are correct, and every measure is what it is.
ANATHEMA.
_Triumphantly._
You say that!
GUARDIAN.
But that which you do not know, Anathema, is not measured with a
measure, and is not calculated in numbers, and is not weighed on
scales. Light has no boundaries, nor is there any boundary for the
glow of fire--there is a red fire, and there is a yellow fire, and
there is a white fire, in which the sun bums like a yellow straw,--and
there is still another unknown fire, whose name no one knows--for
there is no limit to the glow of fire. Having died in numbers, having
died in measures and in weights, David has attained immortality in the
deathlessness of fire.
ANATHEMA,
You lie again!
_He flings himself about on the ground in despair._
ANATHEMA.
Oh, who will help the honest Anathema? He is being deceived eternally.
Oh, who will help the unfortunate Anathema? His immortality is
deception. Oh, weep, you who have grown fond of the Devil; wail and
grieve, you who strive for truth, who honor wisdom,--Anathema is being
deceived eternally. When I win, he takes it away from me. When I come
out victorious, he fetters the conqueror in chains, he pricks out the
eyes of the ruler, and to the haughty he gives the traits of a dog, a
wagging and quivering tail. David, David, I was a friend to you,--tell
him that he lies.
_He puts his head down on his outstretched arms,
like a dog, and wails bitterly._
Where is the truth? Where is the truth? Where is the truth? Was it not
crushed with stones? Is it not lying in the ditch together with the
carrion? Oh, the light has died out from the world! Oh, the world has
no eyes!... he crows have pecked them out.... Where is the truth? Where
is the truth? Where is the truth?
_Plaintively._
Tell me, will Anathema ever learn the truth?
GUARDIAN.
No.
ANATHEMA.
Tell me, will Anathema ever see the gates open? Shall I ever see your
face?
GUARDIAN.
No. Never. My face is open, but you see it not. My speech is loud,
but you hear it not. My commands are clear, but you know them not,
Anathema. And you will never see, and you will never hear, and you will
never know, Anathema, unfortunate spirit, deathless in numbers, ever
alive in measure and in weight, but as yet unborn to life.
_Anathema leaps to his feet._
ANATHEMA.
You lie,--silent dog, you who have robbed the world of the truth, you
who have barred the entrances with iron! Farewell; I like a fair game,
and I pay when I lose. And if you will not pay, I shall cry before the
whole universe: "Help! I have been robbed!"
_He bursts into laughter. Whistling, he retreats
a few steps, and turns around. He speaks
unconcernedly._
ANATHEMA.
I have nothing to do, so I roam about the world. Do you know where I
am going now? I shall go to the grave of David Leizer. Like a grieving
widow, like the son of a father who had been murdered from behind the
corner by a traitor's blow,--I shall sit down on David Leizer's grave
and shall weep so bitterly, and cry so loudly, and call so terribly,
that not one honest soul will remain that would not curse the murderer.
Insane from grief, I shall point to the right and to the left.... Was
not this the one who killed him? Did not that one assist in the bloody
crime? Did not that one betray? I shall cry so bitterly, I shall accuse
so sternly, that all on earth will become murderers and hangmen, in
the name of Leizer, in the name of David Leizer, in the name of David,
who brought joy to mankind! And when from the heap of corpses, of
filthy, foulsmelling, and disgusting corpses I shall announce to the
people that you are the one who killed David and the people,--they will
believe me.
_Bursts into laughter._
For you have such a bad reputation--of a liar, a deceiver, a murderer.
Good-by.
_He goes off laughing. His laughter resounds once
more from the depths. And then everything relapses
into silence._
CURTAIN.