I am coming to you. Wait for me, Sarah. One moment.
ANATHEMA.
Bending over, examines David.
You are crawling? Like myself? Like a dog? After them?
DAVID.
In the agony of death.
Oh, I cannot reach them. Carry me, Nullius. Do I say that it is not necessary to stone me? Oh, let them stone me. Carry me, Nullius. I shall lie down quietly on the threshold, I shall only look through the crevice and see how the little children are eating.... Oh, my beard.... Oh, my terrible beard.... Oh, don't be afraid, my little one,—you alone are laughing. My little children, my tiny little children....
ANATHEMA.
Stamping his foot.
You are mistaken, David. You are dead. And your children are dead. The earth is dead—dead—dead. Look.