Act Five
On the right, upon the slope of a mountain, a dilapidated stone fence. On the left, the sea is seen. Beyond the fence, a deserted garden; among the trees two tall cypress trees stand out prominently. The sea is dark. It is before a storm. The sky is overcast with heavy clouds, which are driven rapidly by the wind.
As the curtain goes up no one is on the stage; then Anathema climbs over the fence and assists David over the fence. David is very weak and moves with difficulty. Their dark clothes are covered with mud and torn in places. Both have lost their hats on the way.
ANATHEMA.
Quicker, quicker, David! They are pursuing us. In this dark garden, where it is so quiet, I heard a roaring in the distance, on that side,—as though there were another sea there. Quicker, David!
DAVID.
I can’t, Nullius. Put me down here that I may die.
ANATHEMA.
Put your foot here, on this rock. Take care.
DAVID.
Before my eyes are paths which turn and turn and lead to the wall. Then there are more walls, Nullius, and this dark ditch where a bloated dead horse is lying. Where are we, Nullius?
ANATHEMA.
We are at the sea. We shall take a boat from the fishermen and trust ourselves to the waves—You will sooner find mercy with the senseless waves, David, than with the maddened people.
DAVID.
Yes, it is better to die.
He lies down by the fence.
I am fifty-eight years old, Nullius, and I must have a rest.... But who was the man that met us on the highway and was so greatly overjoyed, and ran off shouting: “Here is David, who has brought joy to mankind? How does he know me? I had never seen him before.
ANATHEMA.
As if surveying the shore.
Your fame is great, David.... Strange, I do not find any path leading downward.
DAVID.
Shutting his eyes.
The cypress trees have turned dark—there will be a storm to-night, Nullius. We should have remained at the stone pit: it was dark and quiet there, and I slept like a man with clear conscience.
Grumbling.
But why are you silent, Nullius? Or am I to speak all alone, as if I were already in the desert?
NULLIUS.
I am searching.
DAVID.
With dissatisfaction.
What else is there to search for? We have searched enough to-day, and we jumped like trained dogs. I felt ashamed, Nullius, when I climbed the fences like a little boy stealing apples. You had better come over here and tell me something about your wanderings. I am too tired to sleep.
ANATHEMA.
You’ll not be able to sleep, David.
Advancing.
There is no way down to the sea.
DAVID.
What of it? Look for it elsewhere.
ANATHEMA.
Outstretching his hand in the direction of the city.
Look, David; what is that white line there in the distance?
DAVID.
Lifting his head.
I don’t see it.
ANATHEMA.
It is the city which is awaiting you. Now listen. What is that noise in the distance?
DAVID.
Listening.
That—of course, Nullius, that is the echo of the waves of the sea.
ANATHEMA.
No. It is the voice of the people, who will come here soon and will demand miracles from you, and will offer you the kingdom of the poor on earth. When we were hiding in the rocks, I heard two men speak as they hastened to the city: they said that you had been carried away by some evil one and that it was necessary to rescue you from that evil one and offer you the kingdom.
DAVID.
Am I not a sick old Jew? Am I a piece of gold that I should be stolen? Leave me alone, Nullius; you are raving like the other people.... I am sleepy.
ANATHEMA.
Impatiently.
But they are coming this way.
DAVID.
Let them come. You will tell them that David is sleeping and that he does not want to perform miracles.
He prepares himself for sleep.
ANATHEMA.
Bethink yourself, David.
DAVID.
Stubbornly.
He does not want to perform any miracles. Good night, Nullius. I am old and I do not like to talk nonsense.
ANATHEMA.
David!
David does not answer; he falls asleep, his hands folded under his head.
ANATHEMA.
Awaken, David! the people have come here.
Pushes him angrily.
Get up, I say. You make believe that you are asleep—I don’t believe you. Do you hear?
Through his teeth.
You’ve fallen asleep—damned flesh!
Steps aside and listens.
ANATHEMA.
Ha, ha! They are coming.... They are coming.... And their king is sleeping! They are coming—and their miracle-worker is sleeping the sleep of the horse which draws water. They are carrying a crown and death—and their victim and master is catching the wind with an open mouth, smacking his lips for pleasure. O miserable race! There is treachery in your bones, betrayal in your blood, and falsehood in your heart! It is better to rely upon flowing waters, to walk upon the waves as upon a bridge; it is better to lean upon the air as upon a rock, than to trust one’s haughty anger and bitter dreams to a traitor.
Goes over to David and pushes him rudely.
Get up! Get up, David,—Sarah is here, Sarah, Sarah!
DAVID.
Awakening.
Are you here, Sarah? I’ll be up soon; I am very tired, Sarah.... What is this? You, Nullius? Where is Sarah? Didn’t she call me just now? How tired I am! how tired I am, Nullius!
ANATHEMA.
Sarah is coming. Sarah is carrying an infant.
DAVID.
What infant? We have no small children. Our children—
Half rises, looks around, frightened.
What is that, Nullius? who is crying there?
ANATHEMA.
Sarah is carrying a dead child. You must resurrect the dead child, David. He is dark, and his name is Moishe—Moishe—Moishe!
DAVID.
Rising.
We must flee, Nullius. We must flee. But where is the road? Where have you led me to?
Seizes Anathema by the arm.
Listen how they are shouting. They are coming this way, to me—oh, save me, Nullius!
ANATHEMA.
There is no way.
Holding David.
There is an abyss.
DAVID.
What shall I do, Nullius? Shall I, mayhap, hurl myself down and dash my head against the rocks? But am I a wicked wretch that I should come to God without His calling me? Oh, if God only called me—faster than an arrow would my old soul rush to Him....
Listens.
They are shouting. They are calling... calling? Step aside, Nullius; I want to pray.
ANATHEMA.
Steps aside.
But make haste, David; they are near.
DAVID.
Do you hear? They are coming. I love them, but my love is bitterer than hatred, and it is as powerless as indifference. Kill me, and meet them yourself. Kill me—and meet them with mercy, with love. Fertilize the hungry earth with my body and grow bread upon it, drown sorrow with my soul and grow laughter upon it. And joy, O Lord, joy for mankind....
The approach of an enormous mob is heard.
ANATHEMA.
Advancing.
Quicker, David, quicker,—they are approaching.
DAVID.
One moment, one moment.
In despair.
Joy... What else? Only one word—only one word—but I have forgotten it.
Weeping.
Oh, what a great number of words there are, but one is missing.... But, perhaps, you need no words at all?
ANATHEMA.
Only one word is missing? How strange! It seems that they have found their word—do you hear them wailing? “Da-a-vid! Da-a-vid!”
Rise, David, and meet them proudly; it seems they are beginning to mock you.
David rises. Some one rushes in ahead of the mob, shouting joyously: “David!” and runs back. The sea looks in one place as though stained with blood.
DAVID.
Retreating a step.
I am afraid, Nullius. This is the same one we met on the road, with a red little beard.... I fear him, Nullius.
ANATHEMA.
Meet them proudly. Strike them with the truth, David,—with the truth!
DAVID.
But do not leave me alone, Nullius, or I shall forget again where the truth is.
People appear on the fence. They are exhausted, mud-covered, like David. They seem to be blind yet their faces are radiant with joy, and they keep exclaiming: “Da-vid! Da-vid!”
DAVID.
Outstretching his arms.
Back—
They do not listen to him and keep climbing the fence, wailing.
ANATHEMA.
Audaciously.
Where are you going? Back—back, you were told.
The people in the front rank pause in fear.
VOICES.
Stop! Stop! Who’s that? That’s David. No, that’s the robber. The one who has carried him off. The robber.
A RESTLESS MAN.
Silence! Silence! David wishes to speak. Listen to David.
They become silent; but in the distance people are still shouting: “Da-vid!”
DAVID.
What is it you want? Yes, it is I, David Leizer, a Jew from the same city that you come from. Why do you pursue me like a thief and frighten me like a robber with your shouting?
ANATHEMA.
Audaciously.
What do you want? Go away from here. My friend David Leizer does not want to see you.
DAVID.
Yes. Let me die here, for death is already approaching my heart; go home to your wives and your children. I cannot ease your sufferings in any way,—go. Do I speak properly, Nullius?
ANATHEMA.
Yes, David.
THE RESTLESS MAN.
Our wives are here and our children are here. Here they stand, waiting for your word of kindness, David,—you who have brought joy to mankind! I have no strength left in me and I have nothing to say. Go.
WOMAN.
Move forward a little, Rubin, and bow to our master David. You probably remember him, David? Bow to him once more, Rubin.
The boy bows timidly and hides in the crowd again. Laughter.
OLD MAN.
Smiling.
He is afraid of you, David. Don’t be afraid, boy.
Milled laughter. The Wanderer comes forward.
WANDERER.
You have called us, David, and we have come. We have long waited silently for your merciful call, and now your call has reached the remotest boundaries of the earth. The roads have become black with people; the deserted roads have come to life and the narrow paths are filled with footsteps, and they will soon become highways—and even as the blood that is in the body all rushes to the heart, so all the poor on earth will come to you alone. Welcome to you, our master David—the people are bowing before you with their life and the earth.
DAVID.
Tormented.
What do you want?
WANDERER.
Softly.
Righteousness.
DAVID.
What do you want?
ALL.
Righteousness.
Expectation.
DAVID.
With sudden hope.
Tell me, Nullius, tell me: Is righteousness a miracle?
ANATHEMA.
Bitterly.
There are the blind—they are innocent. There are the dead—and they are also innocent. The earth is bowing before you with its graves, and it greets you with darkness. Perform a miracle.
DAVID.
A miracle? Again a miracle?
WANDERER.
Suspiciously and sternly.
And the people do not want you to speak with him whose name we dare not utter. He is an enemy of mankind, and at night, when you were asleep, he carried you off to this mountain—but it did not occur to him to carry off the heart of the people; and, beating unceasingly, this heart has brought us to you.
ANATHEMA.
Audaciously.
It seems that I am superfluous here.
DAVID.
No, no. Do not forsake me, Nullius.
Tormented.
Begone, begone from here! You are tempting God—I do not know you. Begone.... Begone!
ANATHEMA.
Begone!
VOICES.
Frightened.
David is angry. What shall we do? The master is angry. David is angry.
OLD MAN.
Call Sarah.
WOMAN.
Call Sarah. Sarah!
VOICES.
Sarah! Sarah! Sarah!...
DAVID.
Horror-stricken.
Do you hear? They are calling.
JOYOUS VOICE.
Sarah is coming.
The mob grows bolder.
KHESSIN.
Bowing several times.
It is I, David,—I. Peace be with you, our master David.
SONKA.
Smiling and bowing.
Peace be with you. Peace be with you, David.
David turns aside and covers his face with his hands.
ANATHEMA.
Indifferently.
Begone!
General confusion; interrupted smiles, muffled groans. Sarah, led respectfully by the arms, advances to David. Nearing him, she walks alone.
ANATHEMA.
Turn around, David.... Sarah is here.
SARAH.
Peace be with you, David. Forgive me for disturbing you, but the people have asked me to speak with you and to find out when you intend to return home to your palace. And they have also asked you to make haste, David, for many have died already of unbearable sufferings—and the dead have already grown tired of waiting. And many have already lost their reason from their unbearable sufferings, and they will soon commence to murder; if you will not make haste, David, all the people will become enemies—and it will be hard for you to establish a kingdom upon the dead earth.
Bitter wailings in the distance: “Da-vid! Da-vid! Da-vid!”
DAVID.
With restraint.
Go away, Sarah.
SARAH.
Humbly.
Your clothes are torn, David, and I fear that there are wounds upon your body. What ails you? Why do you not rejoice with us?
DAVID.
Weeping.
Oh, Sarah, Sarah! What are you doing with me? Consider, 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.