The grey light, as grey as the rocks, is terrible; the place is terrible, but Anathema likes it. And he appears again; but he does not crawl on his belly like a dog; nor does he hide himself beyond the rocks like a thief. Like a conqueror, he is trying to seal his victory by his haughty gait, by the importance of his slow movements. But as the Devil can never be truthful, and as there are no bounds to his doubts, he brings his duality even into this: He walks like a conqueror, yet he is afraid; he throws his head back high like a sovereign, and yet he laughs at his exaggerated self-importance; a gloomy and malicious clown, he longs for greatness; and forced to laugh, he despises laughter.
Thus, assuming important airs beyond measure, he goes up to the middle of the mountain and waits there in a haughty pose. But his uncertain importance is devoured by the silence, even as dry wood is devoured by fire—and he begins to hurry, without holding out the pause, like a poor musician, striving to conceal himself and his doubts and his odious fear in a vast deal of jests, in loud shouting and in rapid gestures. He stamps his foot and shouts in a voice of assumed sternness.
ANATHEMA.
Why are there no trumpets here? Why no celebration? Why are these old and rusty gates closed? And why does no one hand me the keys? Is it proper in decent circles to meet thus an eminent guest, the reigning prince of the earth, which is friendly to us? Only the doorkeeper is here, apparently asleep, and no one else. It is bad—bad!
He bursts into laughter, and stretching himself wearily, sits down upon a rock. He speaks humbly and with an air of fatigue.
But I am not vainglorious. Trumpets, flowers, and shouting—all this is useless! I myself heard at one time how the people trumpeted glory for David Leizer, but what has come of it?
He heaves a sigh.
It is sad to think of it.
He whistles mournfully.
You have surely heard of the misfortune that has come upon my friend David Leizer? I remember when I last chatted with you,—you did not know this name then.... But do you know it now? It is a name to be proud of! When I left the earth, the entire earth in a million of hungry throats called this glorious name, shouting: "David is a deceiver! David is a traitor! David is a liar!" Then it seemed to me that some of the people reproached also another one—for my honest friend, who died an untimely death, did not act so incautiously in his own name.