I know everything. With my wisdom I have penetrated the meaning of all things, the laws of numbers are known to me, and the book of Fates is open to me. At one glance I embrace life, I am the axis in the circle of time, which whirls rapidly. I am great, I am mighty, I am immortal, and man is in my power. Who will dare struggle with the Devil? The strong, I kill, and the weak I force to whirl about in an intoxicating dance, a mad dance, a devilish dance. I have poisoned all the sources of life, on all its roads I have built ambuscades.... Do you hear the voice of those who curse? The voice of those who are exhausted under the burden of evil? Of those who dare in vain? Of those who long endlessly and terribly? GUARDIAN. I do. ANATHEMA. _Laughing._ The name! Call the name! Illumine the way for the Devil and for man. All in the world want goodness, but know not where to find it; all in the world want fife, but meet only death. The name! Call the name of goodness, call the name of eternal life. I am waiting! GUARDIAN. There is no name for that which you ask, Anathema. There is no number by which to count, no measure by which to measure, no scales by which to weigh that which you ask, Anathema. Every one who has said the word, Love, has lied. Every one who has said the word, Wisdom,--has lied. And even he who has uttered the word, God,--has lied with the greatest and most terrible lie. For there is no number, no measure, no scale, no name for that which you ask, Anathema. ANATHEMA. Where shall I go? Tell me. GUARDIAN. Where you are going. ANATHEMA. What shall I do? Tell me. GUARDIAN. What you are doing. ANATHEMA. You speak through silence--can I understand the language of your silence? Tell me. GUARDIAN. No. Never. My face is open, but you see it not. My speech is loud, but you hear it not. My commands are clear, but you know them not, Anathema. And you shall never see, and you shall never hear, and you shall never know, Anathema, unfortunate spirit, deathless in numbers, eternally alive in measures and in weights, but as yet unborn to life. ANATHEMA. _Tormented._ Never? GUARDIAN. Never. _Anathema leaps down from the rocks, and tosses about madly, devoured by grief. Clinging to the rocks, he embraces them tenderly and then pushes them away angrily; he moans bitterly. He turns his face to West and East, to North and South of the earth, flourishing his arms, as if calling the earth to wrath and vengeance. But the grey rocks are silent, West and East are silent, North and South are silent, and in stern motionlessness, heavily leaning on his sword, stands the Guardian of the Entrances._ ANATHEMA.