I say it is cold here, Nullius. Throw some logs of wood into the fireplace.... No, wait. How much does a log cost? Oh, it costs a great deal; put it away, Nullius,--this accursed fire is devouring wood so quickly, as though it did not know that every log of wood is--a life. Wait, Nullius.... You have a splendid memory, you never forget anything, like a book--don't you remember how much I designated for Abraham Khessin? ANATHEMA. At first, five hundred. DAVID. Yes, yes, Nullius, of course,--he is an old friend of mine; we used to play together. And for a friend five hundred is not much at all. Of course, he is an old friend of mine, and I must have pitied him and left to him more than to the others in the end--for our friendship is such a tender feeling, Nullius. But it is bad if a man wrongs strangers and distant people on account of a friend--for they have no friends or protection. And we will cut down Abraham Khessin's allowance, we will cut it down just a little bit.... _With fear._ Tell me, how much have I now allowed for Abraham? ANATHEMA. One copeck. DAVID. Impossible! Tell me that you have made an error! Have pity on me, and tell me that you have made an error, Nullius! It cannot be--Abraham is my friend--we used to play together. Do you understand what it means when children play together, and then they grow up and they have grey beards, and they smile together at the past? You have also a grey beard, Nullius. ANATHEMA. Yes, my beard is grey. You allowed one copeck for Khessin. DAVID. _Takes Anathema by the arm; in a whisper._ But she said that her child would die, Nullius,--that he is dying already. Understand me, my old friend, I must have money. You are such a fine man, you are (_pats his arm_) such a kind man, you remember everything, like a book,--search a little more. ANATHEMA. Bethink yourself, David; your reason is betraying you. It is already two days that you have been sitting here at this table, looking for that which is no more. Go out to the people who are waiting for you, tell them that you have nothing left, and dismiss them. _Angrily._ DAVID. But did I not go out ten times already to the people and did I not tell them that I have nothing left? Did a single one of them go away? They stand and wait there, and they are firm in their misery, like a rock, obstinate like the child at the mother's breast. Does a child ask whether there is milk in the mother's breast? When I speak, they are silent and they listen to me like reasonable people; but when I become silent, the spirit of despair and want seizes upon them and wails in a thousand voices. Did I not give everything away to them, Nullius? Did I not cry out all my tears? Did I not give them away all the blood of my heart? What are they waiting for, Nullius? What do they want of the poor Jew, who has already exhausted his life?... ANATHEMA. They are waiting for a miracle, David. DAVID. _Rising, with fear._