love their children so dearly that they always consider them beautiful. Rosa—beautiful! (Laughs.) Just think of it, Purikes,—Rosa is beautiful!

She laughs. Rosa comes over from the direction of the city. Her hair is disheveled, almost covering her black, flashing eyes; her face is smeared with something black, and she is dressed wretchedly. She walks with a youthful and stately gait, but on noticing the strange man, she stoops like an old woman.

SARAH.

Here, here is Rosa; look, sir! My God, how ugly she is. David cries every time he sees her.

ROSA.

Offended, straightens herself.

There are uglier women than I am.

SARAH.

Persuasively.

What are you saying, Rosa? There is no uglier girl than you in the whole world. (Whispers entreatingly.) Hide your beauty, Rosa. A robber has come, Rosa,—hide your beauty! At night I will wash your face myself, I will comb your braids myself, and you will be as beautiful as a heavenly angel, and we will all pray to you. A robber has come, Rosa. (Aloud.) Did they throw stones at you again?

ROSA.

Hoarsely.

Yes, they did.

SARAH.

And the dogs attacked you, too?

ROSA.

Yes, they did.—

SARAH.

So you see, sir? Even the dogs!

ANATHEMA.

In a friendly tone.

Yes, it seems that I have made a mistake. To my regret, your daughter is really not pretty and it is painful to look at her.

SARAH.

Of course, there are uglier girls than she is, but—Go, Rosochka, go over there, take your work—What is there for a poor and ugly girl to do but work? Go, my poor Rosochka, go.

Rosa takes some rags to mend and disappears behind the counter. Silence.

ANATHEMA.

Is it long since you have this store, madam Leizer?

SARAH.

Calmed down.

Thirty years already, ever since David became sick. A misfortune happened to him when he served in the army,—he was trampled by horses and they crushed his chest.

ANATHEMA.

Was David a soldier?

BEZKRAINY.

Interposing.

David had an older brother, and he was a scoundrel, and his name was Moses.

SARAH.

With a sigh.

And his name was Moses.

BEZKRAINY.

And when the time came for Moses to serve in the army, he ran off on an Italian steamer. And David was taken in his place.

SARAH.

With a sigh.

David was taken.

ANATHEMA.

What injustice!

BEZKRAINY.

Have you ever met justice in the world?

ANATHEMA.

Of course I have. You are no doubt an unfortunate man, and everything appears to you in dark colors. But you will see, you will soon see, that justice does exist. (Freely.) The devil take it, I have nothing to do, so I always roam about the world, and I have not seen anything so plentiful as justice. How shall I say it, madam Leizer? There is more justice on earth than fleas on a good dog.

SARAH.

Smiling.

But what if it is just as hard to catch justice as to catch fleas....

BEZKRAINY.

And what if it bites just as the fleas do?

All laugh. From the side of the city appears an organ-grinder, exhausted, half-blinded from dust and perspiration. He wants to pass by, but suddenly he pauses in despair, and begins to play a terrible tune.

SARAH.

Pass on, please, pass on. We need no music.

ORGAN-GRINDER.

Playing.

Neither do I need it.

SARAH.

We have nothing to give you. Pass on.

ORGAN-GRINDER.

Playing.

Then I will die to the strains of music.

ANATHEMA.

Generously.

Please, madam Leizer, give him something to eat and water—I will pay for everything.

SARAH.

What a kind-hearted man you are. Go, musician, eat and drink. But for the water I will not take anything from you—let the water be mine.

The organ-grinder sits down and eats ravenously.

ANATHEMA.

Friendly.

Is it long you have been roaming over the world, musician?

ORGAN-GRINDER.

Morosely,

I used to have a monkey before—music and a monkey. The monkey was eaten up by the fleas, and my music box started to screech, and I am looking for a tree on which to hang myself. That is all.

A little girl runs in. She looks curiously at the organ-grinder, then turns to Sonka.

LITTLE GIRL.

Sonka, Ruzya died.

SONKA.

Already?

LITTLE GIRL.

Yes, he died. May I take some seeds?

SONKA.

Closing her store.

You may. Sarah, if a customer comes, tell him that I will attend to business to-morrow again, otherwise he may think that my store is closed for good. Have you heard it? Ruzya died.

SARAH.

Already?

LITTLE GIRL.

Yes, he died. Is the musician going to play?

Anathema whispers to Sarah and puts something into her hand.

SARAH.

Sonka, here is a rouble for you; you see, a rouble?

BEZKRAINY.

There is luck! Yesterday a chicken, to-day a rouble. Take it, Sonka.

All look greedily upon the rouble. Sonka and the little girl go out.

SARAH.

You are very rich, sir.

ANATHEMA.

With self-satisfaction.

Yes. I have a large practice—I am a lawyer.

SARAH.

Quickly.

David has no debts.

ANATHEMA.

Oh, I haven't come for that at all, madam Leizer. When you know me better, you will see that I bring, but do not take, that I make gifts, but do not take them back.

SARAH.

With fear.

Do you come from God?

ANATHEMA.

It would be too much honor for me and for you, madam Leizer, if I came from God. No, I have come of my own accord.

Naum comes over, looks at the customer with amazement, and sits down, exhausted, upon a rock. Naum is a tall, thin young man, with a narrow chest and a large, pale nose. He looks around on all sides.

NAUM.

Where is Rosa?

SARAH.

In a whisper.

Not so loud,—she is there. (Aloud.) Well, hew was it, Naum? Did you get any credit?

NAUM.