NAUM,
One, two, three.
DANCING-MASTER.
That's the way, that's the way, monsieur Naum. Please, more neatly! More neatly, please! One, two, three.
He plays. Anathema walks over to Sarah cautiously and says in a low voice, yet loud enough to be heard by David:
ANATHEMA.
Madam Leizer, does it not seem to you that Naum is rather tired? This dancing-master knows no mercy.
DAVID.
Turning around.
Yes, it is enough. Sarah, you are willing to torture the boy.