Be silent, Nullius, be silent,--you are tempting God. Who am I that I should perform miracles? Bethink yourself, Nullius. Can I make two copecks of one? Can I come over to the mountains and say: "Mountains of the earth, turn into mountains of bread and satisfy the hunger of the hungry"? Can I come over to the ocean and say: "Sea of water as salty as tears, turn into a sea of milk and honey and quench the thirst of the thirsty"? Think of it, Nullius! ANATHEMA. Did you see the blind? DAVID. Only once did I dare lift my eyes,--but I saw strange, grey people, into whose eyes some one had spat something white, and they feel the air as if it were a danger, and they fear the earth as though it were a horror. What do they want, Nullius? ANATHEMA. Did you see the sick and the maimed, with organs of the body missing,--did you see them crawl on the ground? Out of the pores of the earth they come like a perspiration of blood--the earth is of them. DAVID. Be silent, Nullius. ANATHEMA. Did you see people who are devoured by their conscience: their face is dark, as though scorched by fire, and their eyes are surrounded with white rings, and they run about in a circle like mad horses? Did you see people who look straight ahead, and in their hands they hold long staffs for measuring the road? These are the people searching after truth. DAVID. I dared not look any further. ANATHEMA. Did you hear the voice of the earth, David? _Enter Sarah; she advances to David timidly._ DAVID. Is that you, Sarah? Shut the door tightly, do not leave a crevice behind you. What is it you wish, Sarah? SARAH. _With fear and faith._ Are you not entirely prepared yet, David? Make haste and go out to the people: they are tired of waiting and many of them fear death. Dismiss these, for others are coming, David, and soon there will be no place for a man to stand. The water has already given out in the fountains and they are not bringing any bread from the city, as you have ordered, David. DAVID. _Uplifting his hands; horrified._ Awaken, Sarah, sleep has enmeshed you in nets of cunning and your heart is poisoned with the madness of love. It is I, David!... _With fear._ And I did not command to bring bread. SARAH. If you are not quite ready, David, they can wait. But order lamps lighted and give bedding for the women and the children,--for night will soon set in and the earth will grow cold. And order them to give milk to the children--they are starved. There, in the distance, we have heard the sound of innumerable footsteps: are those not herds of cows and goats, full of milk, driven here at your command? DAVID. _Hoarsely._ Oh, my God, my God!... ANATHEMA. _In a low voice, to Sarah._ Go away, Sarah: David is praying. Do not disturb his prayer. _Sarah goes away timidly and cautiously._ DAVID. Mercy! Mercy!