_Naum makes a few steps after Rosa, then he returns and sits down near Sarah._ DAVID. Ready, Nullius? Come over, then, honorable man, you who stand first in the line. KHESSIN. _Advancing._ Here I am, David. DAVID. What is your name? KHESSIN. My name is Abraham Khessin.... But have you forgotten my name? You and I played together when we were children. DAVID. Hush! It is necessary for the sake of maintaining order, Abraham. Write the name clearly, Nullius. This is the first who waited for me and upon whom the will of my God has manifested itself. ANATHEMA. _Writes carefully._ Number one.... I'll rule the paper later, David. Number one: Abraham Khessin.... NAUM. _In a low voice._ Mamma, I will not dance any more. CURTAIN. ACT THREE _The same dust-covered road, with the bent posts and the old, deserted sentinel-box; the same little shops. The sun is burning as mercilessly as when Anathema first appeared there._ _A large number of poor people are gathered there to welcome David Leizer, who had distributed his fortune among the poor. The air is rent by shouting, motion, and merry bustling. Purikes, Bezkrainy, and Sonka, happy now, and proud of their shops, are doing a brisk business in soda-water and candies. Sarah Leizer is sitting as before near her little shop, dressed neatly but poorly._ _A solemn welcome is arranged for David and Anathema, who had gone to the seashore. All the little shops, even the posts and the deserted sentinel-box, are decorated with parti-colored rags and with branches of trees; on the right side of the road, upon the scorched grass, an orchestra is preparing to meet David--several Jews with various instruments, among which there are: a good violin, cymbals, a broken brass trumpet, and even a drum, slightly broken. The members of the orchestra are scolding one another criticizing each other's instruments._ _There are a number of children in the crowd. Also, little babes in arms. Abraham Khessin and those who were in line when David started to distribute his money are there; a little distance away from the crowd stands the stern organ-grinder, with his organ._ YOUNG JEW. _Blowing his crushed trumpet._ But why does it play only on one side? Such a good trumpet. VIOLINIST. _Agitated._ What do you want to do with me? How can you welcome David Leizer with such a trumpet? You might as well have brought along a cat and pulled her by the tail, and think that David would call you his son? YOUNG JEW. _Obstinately._ It's a good trumpet. My father played it when he was in the army, and everybody was thankful to him. VIOLINIST. Your father played it, but who sat upon it? Why is it so crushed? How can you welcome David Leizer with such a crushed trumpet? YOUNG JEW. _With tears._ It's a very good trumpet. VIOLINIST. _To a clean-shaven old man._