David is calling you all. _Confusion, tears, laughter,--for all believe him now. Anathema kisses David's hand, springing about delightedly. He drags the Organ-grinder by the collar to the center._ ANATHEMA. Look, David, here's a musician! _Laughs and shakes the Organ-grinder._ So you don't want your old music, eh? You need a new monkey, eh? Perhaps you will ask for a powder that destroys the fleas? Ask; we shall give you everything. DAVID. Be quiet, Nullius, be quiet. We must work. You are an expert at counting, Nullius, are you not? ANATHEMA. I? Oh, Rabbi David! I am myself Numbers, I am myself--Measures and Weights. DAVID. Be seated, then; write and count. But there is one more thing, my dear children: I am an old Jew, who can divide a piece of garlic into ten portions. I know not only the need of man, but I saw also how a roach was starving--yes,--I saw also how small children died of hunger.... _Lowers his head and heaves a deep sigh._ Therefore do not deceive me, and remember that there is a number and a measure for everything. And where ten copecks are needed, do not ask for twenty, and where one measure of grain is needed, do not ask for two, for what is superfluous for one is always essential to another. Like brothers having one mother whose breasts are full but are quickly exhausted, do not abuse one another, and do not offend the generous but careful mother.... You may begin. Nullius, is everything ready? ANATHEMA. You may begin. I am waiting, David. DAVID. Stand in line, then, I beg you. I have not received the money yet; it is still in America, but I shall write down exactly how much each one of you is to get according to his need. SARAH. David, David, what are you doing with us? Look at Rosa, look at poor Naum. _Naum is dumfounded--he wants to say something, but is unable; he clutches the air with outstretched fingers. A little distance away from him, alone in her youth, strength, and beauty, amidst all these poor people, with emaciated faces and flat breasts, stands Rosa, who looks at her father defiantly._ ROSA. Are we less your children than these who have been picked up in the street? And are we not brother and sister to those who died? DAVID. Rosa is right, mother,--everybody will get the proper share. ROSA. Yes? But do you know, father, what is the proper share for everybody? _She laughs bitterly and wants to go away._ DAVID. _Gently and sadly._ Stay here, Rosa! ROSA. I have nothing to do here. I have heard you call everybody.... Oh, you called very loudly! ... But did you call the beautiful? I have nothing to do here. _Goes out._ SARAH. _Rising irresolutely._ Rosochka!... DAVID. _As gently as before, with a smile._ Stay here, mother. Where will you go? You will come with me.