THE TRIAL
CHAPTER III
In the empty Courtroom
The Student
The
Offices
Every day over the following week, K. expected another summons
to arrive, he could not believe that his rejection of any more
hearings had been taken literally, and when the expected summons
really had not come by Saturday evening he took it to mean that he
was expected, without being told, to appear at the same place at
the same time. So on Sunday, he set out once more in the same
direction, going without hesitation up the steps and through the
corridors; some of the people remembered him and greeted him from
their doorways, but he no longer needed to ask anyone the way and
soon arrived at the right door. It was opened as soon as he knocked
and, paying no attention to the woman he had seen last time who was
standing at the doorway, he was about to go straight into the
adjoining room when she said to him “There’s no session
today”. “What do you mean; no session?” he asked,
unable to believe it. But the woman persuaded him by opening the
door to the next room. It was indeed empty, and looked even more
dismal empty than it had the previous Sunday. On the podium stood
the table exactly as it had been before with a few books laying on
it. “Can I have a look at those books?” asked K., not
because he was especially curious but so that he would not have
come for nothing. “No,” said the woman as she re-closed
the door, “that’s not allowed. Those books belong to
the examining judge.” “I see,” said K., and
nodded, “those books must be law books, and that’s how
this court does things, not only to try people who are innocent but
even to try them without letting them know what’s going
on.” “I expect you’re right,” said the
woman, who had not understood exactly what he meant.
“I’d better go away again, then,” said K.
“Should I give a message to the examining judge?” asked
the woman. “Do you know him, then?” asked K. “Of
course I know him,” said the woman, “my husband is the
court usher.” It was only now that K. noticed that the room,
which before had held nothing but a wash-tub, had been fitted out
as a living room. The woman saw how surprised he was and said,
“Yes, we’re allowed to live here as we like, only we
have to clear the room out when the court’s in session.
There’s lots of disadvantages to my husband’s
job.” “It’s not so much the room that surprises
me,” said K., looking at her crossly, “it’s your
being married that shocks me.” “Are you thinking about
what happened last time the court was in session, when I disturbed
what you were saying?” asked the woman. “Of
course,” said K., “it’s in the past now and
I’ve nearly forgotten about it, but at the time it made me
furious. And now you tell me yourself that you are a married
woman.” “It wasn’t any disadvantage for you to
have your speech interrupted. The way they talked about you after
you’d gone was really bad.” “That could well
be,” said K., turning away, “but it does not excuse
you.” “There’s no-one I know who’d hold it
against me,” said the woman. “Him, who put his arms
around me, he’s been chasing after me for a long time. I
might not be very attractive for most people, but I am for him.
I’ve got no protection from him, even my husband has had to
get used to it; if he wants to keep his job he’s got to put
up with it as that man’s a student and he’ll almost
certainly be very powerful later on. He’s always after me,
he’d only just left when you arrived.” “That fits
in with everything else,” said K., “I’m not
surprised.” “Do you want to make things a bit better
here?” the woman asked slowly, watching him as if she were
saying something that could be as dangerous for K. as for herself.
“That’s what I thought when I heard you speak, I really
liked what you said. Mind you, I only heard part of it, I missed
the beginning of it and at the end I was lying on the floor with
the student. — it’s so horrible here,” she said
after a pause, and took hold of K.’s hand. “Do you
believe you really will be able to make things better?” K.
smiled and twisted his hand round a little in her soft hands.
“It’s really not my job to make things better here, as
you put it,” he said, “and if you said that to the
examining judge he would laugh at you or punish you for it. I
really would not have become involved in this matter if I could
have helped it, and I would have lost no sleep worrying about how
this court needs to be made better. But because I’m told that
I have been arrested — and I am under arrest — it
forces me to take some action, and to do so for my own sake.
However, if I can be of some service to you in the process I will,
of course, be glad to do so. And I will be glad to do so not only
for the sake of charity but also because you can be of some help to
me.” “How could I help you, then?” said the
woman. “You could, for example, show me the books on the
table there.” “Yes, certainly,” the woman cried,
and pulled K. along behind her as she rushed to them. The books
were old and well worn, the cover of one of them had nearly broken
through in its middle, and it was held together with a few threads.
“Everything is so dirty here,” said K., shaking his
head, and before he could pick the books up the woman wiped some of
the dust off with her apron. K. took hold of the book that lay on
top and threw it open, an indecent picture appeared. A man and a
woman sat naked on a sofa, the base intent of whoever drew it was
easy to see but he had been so grossly lacking in skill that all
that anyone could really make out were the man and the woman who
dominated the picture with their bodies, sitting in overly upright
postures that created a false perspective and made it difficult for
them to approach each other. K. didn’t thumb through that
book any more, but just threw open the next one at its title page,
it was a novel with the title, What Grete Suffered from her
Husband, Hans. “So this is the sort of law book they study
here,” said K., “this is the sort of person sitting in
judgement over me.” “I can help you,” said the
woman, “would you like me to?” “Could you really
do that without placing yourself in danger? You did say earlier on
that your husband is wholly dependent on his superiors.”
“I still want to help you,” said the woman, “come
over here, we’ve got to talk about it. Don’t say any
more about what danger I’m in, I only fear danger where I
want to fear it. Come over here.” She pointed to the podium
and invited him to sit down on the step with her.
“You’ve got lovely dark eyes,” she said after
they had sat down, looking up into K.’s face, “people
say I’ve got nice eyes too, but yours are much nicer. It was
the first thing I noticed when you first came here. That’s
even why I came in here, into the assembly room, afterwards,
I’d never normally do that, I’m not really even allowed
to.” So that’s what all this is about, thought K.,
she’s offering herself to me, she’s as degenerate as
everything else around here, she’s had enough of the court
officials, which is understandable I suppose, and so she approaches
any stranger and makes compliments about his eyes. With that, K.
stood up in silence as if he had spoken his thoughts out loud and
thus explained his action to the woman. “I don’t think
you can be of any assistance to me,” he said, “to be of
any real assistance you would need to be in contact with high
officials. But I’m sure you only know the lower employees,
and there are crowds of them milling about here. I’m sure
you’re very familiar with them and could achieve a great deal
through them, I’ve no doubt of that, but the most that could
be done through them would have no bearing at all on the final
outcome of the trial. You, on the other hand, would lose some of
your friends as a result, and I have no wish of that. Carry on with
these people in the same way as you have been, as it does seem to
me to be something you cannot do without. I have no regrets in
saying this as, in return for your compliment to me, I also find
you rather attractive, especially when you look at me as sadly as
you are now, although you really have no reason to do so. You
belong to the people I have to combat, and you’re very
comfortable among them, you’re even in love with the student,
or if you don’t love him you do at least prefer him to your
husband. It’s easy to see that from what you’ve been
saying.” “No!” she shouted, remained sitting
where she was and grasped K.’s hand, which he failed to pull
away fast enough. “You can’t go away now, you
can’t go away when you’ve misjudged me like that! Are
you really capable of going away now? Am I really so worthless that
you won’t even do me the favour of staying a little bit
longer?” “You misunderstand me,” said K., sitting
back down, “if it’s really important to you for me to
stay here then I’ll be glad to do so, I have plenty of time,
I came here thinking there would be a trial taking place. All I
meant with what I said just now was to ask you not to do anything
on my behalf in the proceedings against me. But even that is
nothing for you to worry about when you consider that there’s
nothing hanging on the outcome of this trial, and that, whatever
the verdict, I will just laugh at it. And that’s even
presupposing it ever even reaches any conclusion, which I very much
doubt. I think it’s much more likely that the court officials
will be too lazy, too forgetful, or even to fearful ever to
continue with these proceedings and that they will soon be
abandoned if they haven’t been abandoned already. It’s
even possible that they will pretend to be carrying on with the
trial in the hope of receiving a large bribe, although I can tell
you now that that will be quite in vain as I pay bribes to no-one.
Perhaps one favour you could do me would be to tell the examining
judge, or anyone else who likes to spread important news, that I
will never be induced to pay any sort of bribe through any
stratagem of theirs — and I’m sure they have many
stratagems at their disposal. There is no prospect of that, you can
tell them that quite openly. And what’s more, I expect they
have already noticed themselves, or even if they haven’t,
this affair is really not so important to me as they think. Those
gentlemen would only save some work for themselves, or at least
some unpleasantness for me, which, however, I am glad to endure if
I know that each piece of unpleasantness for me is a blow against
them. And I will make quite sure it is a blow against them. Do you
actually know the judge?” “Course I do,” said the
woman, “he was the first one I thought of when I offered to
help you. I didn’t know he’s only a minor official, but
if you say so it must be true. Mind you, I still think the report
he gives to his superiors must have some influence. And he writes
so many reports. You say these officials are lazy, but
they’re certainly not all lazy, especially this examining
judge, he writes ever such a lot. Last Sunday, for instance, that
session went on till the evening. Everyone had gone, but the
examining judge, he stayed in the hall, I had to bring him a lamp
in, all I had was a little kitchen lamp but he was very satisfied
with it and started to write straight away. Meantime my husband
arrived, he always has the day off on Sundays, we got the furniture
back in and got our room sorted out and then a few of the
neighbours came, we sat and talked for a bit by a candle, in short,
we forgot all about the examining judge and went to bed. All of a
sudden in the night, it must have been quite late in the night, I
wakes up, next to the bed, there’s the examining judge
shading the lamp with his hand so that there’s no light from
it falls on my husband, he didn’t need to be as careful as
that, the way my husband sleeps the light wouldn’t have woken
him up anyway. I was quite shocked and nearly screamed, but the
judge was very friendly, warned me I should be careful, he
whispered to me he’s been writing all this time, and now
he’s brought me the lamp back, and he’ll never forget
how I looked when he found me there asleep. What I mean, with all
this, I just wanted to tell you how the examining judge really does
write lots of reports, especially about you as questioning you was
definitely one of the main things on the agenda that Sunday. If he
writes reports as long as that they must be of some importance. And
besides all that, you can see from what happened that the examining
judge is after me, and it’s right now, when he’s first
begun to notice me, that I can have a lot of influence on him. And
I’ve got other proof I mean a lot to him, too. Yesterday, he
sent that student to me, the one he really trusts and who he works
with, he sent him with a present for me, silk stockings. He said it
was because I clear up in the courtroom but that’s only a
pretence, that job’s no more than what I’m supposed to
do, it’s what my husband gets paid for. Nice stockings, they
are, look,” — she stretched out her leg, drew her skirt
up to her knee and looked, herself, at the stocking —
“they are nice stockings, but they’re too good for me,
really.”
She suddenly interrupted herself and lay her hand on K.’s
as if she wanted to calm him down, and whispered, “Be quiet,
Berthold is watching us.” K. slowly looked up. In the doorway
to the courtroom stood a young man, he was short, his legs were not
quite straight, and he continually moved his finger round in a
short, thin, red beard with which he hoped to make himself look
dignified. K. looked at him with some curiosity, he was the first
student he had ever met of the unfamiliar discipline of
jurisprudence, face to face at least, a man who would even most
likely attain high office one day. The student, in contrast, seemed
to take no notice of K. at all, he merely withdrew his finger from
his beard long enough to beckon to the woman and went over to the
window, the woman leant over to K. and whispered,
“Don’t be cross with me, please don’t, and please
don’t think ill of me either, I’ve got to go to him
now, to this horrible man, just look at his bent legs. But
I’ll come straight back and then I’ll go with you if
you’ll take me, I’ll go wherever you want, you can do
whatever you like with me, I’ll be happy if I can be away
from here for as long as possible, it’d be best if I could
get away from here for good.” She stroked K.’s hand
once more, jumped up and ran over to the window. Before he realised
it, K. grasped for her hand but failed to catch it. He really was
attracted to the woman, and even after thinking hard about it could
find no good reason why he should not give in to her allure. It
briefly crossed his mind that the woman meant to entrap him on
behalf of the court, but that was an objection he had no difficulty
in fending off. In what way could she entrap him? Was he not still
free, so free that he could crush the entire court whenever he
wanted, as least where it concerned him? Could he not have that
much confidence in himself? And her offer of help sounded sincere,
and maybe it wasn’t quite worthless. And maybe there was no
better revenge against the examining judge and his cronies than to
take this woman from him and have her for himself. Maybe then,
after much hard work writing dishonest reports about K., the judge
would go to the woman’s bed late one night and find it empty.
And it would be empty because she belonged to K., because this
woman at the window, this lush, supple, warm body in its sombre
clothes of rough, heavy material belonged to him, totally to him
and to him alone. Once he had settled his thoughts towards the
woman in this way, he began to find the quiet conversation at the
window was taking too long, he rapped on the podium with his
knuckles, and then even with his fist. The student briefly looked
away from the woman to glance at K. over his shoulder but did allow
himself to be disturbed, in fact he even pressed himself close to
the woman and put his arms around her. She dropped her head down
low as if listening to him carefully, as she did so he kissed her
right on the neck, hardly even interrupting what he was saying. K.
saw this as confirmation of the tyranny the student held over the
woman and which she had already complained about, he stood up and
walked up and down the room. Glancing sideways at the student, he
wondered what would be the quickest possible way to get rid of him,
and so it was not unwelcome to him when the student, clearly
disturbed by K.’s toing and froing which K. had now developed
into a stamping up and down, said to him, “You don’t
have to stay here, you know, if you’re getting impatient. You
could have gone earlier, no-one would have missed you. In fact you
should have gone, you should have left as quickly as possible as
soon as I got here.” This comment could have caused all
possible rage to break out between them, but K. also bore in mind
that this was a prospective court official speaking to a
disfavoured defendant, and he might well have been taking pride in
speaking in this way. K. remained standing quite close to him and
said with a smile, “You’re quite right, I am impatient,
but the easiest way to settle this impatience would be if you left
us. On the other hand, if you’ve come here to study —
you are a student, I hear — I’ll be quite happy to
leave the room to you and go away with the woman. I’m sure
you’ll still have a lot of study to do before you’re
made into a judge. It’s true that I’m still not all
that familiar with your branch of jurisprudence but I take it it
involves a lot more than speaking roughly — and I see you
have no shame in doing that extremely well.” “He
shouldn’t have been allowed to move about so freely,”
said the student, as if he wanted to give the woman an explanation
for K.’s insults, “that was a mistake. I’ve told
the examining judge so. He should at least have been detained in
his room between hearings. Sometimes it’s impossible to
understand what the judge thinks he’s doing.”
“You’re wasting your breath,” said K., then he
reached his hand out towards the woman and said, “come with
me.” “So that’s it,” said the student,
“oh no, you’re not going to get her,” and with a
strength you would not have expected from him, he glanced tenderly
at her, lifted her up on one arm and, his back bent under the
weight, ran with her to the door. In this way he showed,
unmistakeably, that he was to some extent afraid of K., but he
nonetheless dared to provoke him still further by stroking and
squeezing the woman’s arm with his free hand. K. ran the few
steps up to him, but when he had reached him and was about to take
hold of him and, if necessary, throttle him, the woman said,
“It’s no good, it’s the examining judge
who’s sent for me, I daren’t go with you, this little
bastard... “ and here she ran her hand over the
student’s face, “this little bastard won’t let
me.” “And you don’t want to be set free!”
shouted K., laying his hand on the student’s shoulder, who
then snapped at it with his teeth. “No!” shouted the
woman, pushing K. away with both hands, “no, no don’t
do that, what d’you think you’re doing!? That’d
be the end of me. Let go of him, please just let go of him.
He’s only carrying out the judge’s orders, he’s
carrying me to him.” “Let him take you then, and I want
to see nothing more of you,” said K., enraged by his
disappointment and giving the student a thump in the back so that
he briefly stumbled and then, glad that he had not fallen,
immediately jumped up all the higher with his burden. K. followed
them slowly. He realised that this was the first unambiguous
setback he had suffered from these people. It was of course nothing
to worry about, he accepted the setback only because he was looking
for a fight. If he stayed at home and carried on with his normal
life he would be a thousand times superior to these people and
could get any of them out of his way just with a kick. And he
imagined the most laughable scene possible as an example of this,
if this contemptible student, this inflated child, this knock-kneed
redbeard, if he were kneeling at Elsa’s bed wringing his
hands and begging for forgiveness. K. so enjoyed imagining this
scene that he decided to take the student along to Elsa with him if
ever he should get the opportunity.
K. was curious to see where the woman would be taken and he
hurried over to the door, the student was not likely to carry her
through the streets on his arm. It turned out that the journey was
far shorter. Directly opposite the flat there was a narrow flight
of wooden steps which probably led up to the attic, they turned as
they went so that it was not possible to see where they ended. The
student carried the woman up these steps, and after the exertions
of running with her he was soon groaning and moving very slowly.
The woman waved down at K. and by raising and lowering her
shoulders she tried to show that she was an innocent party in this
abduction, although the gesture did not show a lot of regret. K.
watched her without expression like a stranger, he wanted to show
neither that he was disappointed nor that he would easily get over
his disappointment.
The two of them had disappeared, but K. remained standing in the
doorway. He had to accept that the woman had not only cheated him
but that she had also lied to him when she said she was being taken
to the examining judge. The examining judge certainly
wouldn’t be sitting and waiting in the attic. The wooden
stairs would explain nothing to him however long he stared at them.
Then K. noticed a small piece of paper next to them, went across to
it and read, in a childish and unpractised hand, “Entrance to
the Court Offices”. Were the court offices here, in the attic
of this tenement, then? If that was how they were accommodated it
did not attract much respect, and it was some comfort for the
accused to realise how little money this court had at its disposal
if it had to locate its offices in a place where the tenants of the
building, who were themselves among the poorest of people, would
throw their unneeded junk. On the other hand, it was possible that
the officials had enough money but that they squandered it on
themselves rather than use it for the court’s purposes. Going
by K.’s experience of them so far, that even seemed probable,
except that if the court were allowed to decay in that way it would
not just humiliate the accused but also give him more encouragement
than if the court were simply in a state of poverty. K. also now
understood that the court was ashamed to summon those it accused to
the attic of this building for the initial hearing, and why it
preferred to impose upon them in their own homes. What a position
it was that K. found himself in, compared with the judge sitting up
in the attic! K., at the bank, had a big office with an ante-room,
and had an enormous window through which he could look down at the
activity in the square. It was true, though, that he had no
secondary income from bribes and fraud, and he couldn’t tell
a servant to bring him a woman up to the office on his arm. K.,
however, was quite willing to do without such things, in this life
at least. K. was still looking at the notice when a man came up the
stairs, looked through the open door into the living room where it
was also possible to see the courtroom, and finally asked K.
whether he had just seen a woman there. “You’re the
court usher, aren’t you?” asked K. “That’s
right,” said the man, “oh, yes, you’re defendant
K., I recognise you now as well. Nice to see you here.” And
he offered K. his hand, which was far from what K. had expected.
And when K. said nothing, he added, “There’s no court
session planned for today, though.” “I know
that,” said K. as he looked at the usher’s civilian
coat which, beside its ordinary buttons, displayed two gilded ones
as the only sign of his office and seemed to have been taken from
an old army officer’s coat. “I was speaking with your
wife a little while ago. She is no longer here. The student has
carried her off to the examining judge.” “Listen to
this,” said the usher, “they’re always carrying
her away from me. It’s Sunday today, and it’s not part
of my job to do any work today, but they send me off with some
message which isn’t even necessary just to get me away from
here. What they do is they send me off not too far away so that I
can still hope to get back on time if I really hurry. So off I go
running as fast as I can, shout the message through the crack in
the door of the office I’ve been sent to, so out of breath
they’ll hardly be able to understand it, run back here again,
but the student’s been even faster than I have — well
he’s got less far to go, he’s only got to run down the
steps. If I wasn’t so dependent on them I’d have
squashed the student against the wall here a long time ago. Right
here, next to the sign. I’m always dreaming of doing that.
Just here, just above the floor, that’s where he’s
crushed onto the wall, his arms stretched out, his fingers spread
apart, his crooked legs twisted round into a circle and blood
squirted out all around him. It’s only ever been a dream so
far, though.” “Is there nothing else you do?”
asked K. with a smile. “Nothing that I know of,” said
the usher. “And it’s going to get even worse now, up
till now he’s only been carrying her off for himself, now
he’s started carrying her off for the judge and all, just
like I’d always said he would.” “Does your wife,
then, not share some of the responsibility?” asked K. He had
to force himself as he asked this question, as he, too, felt so
jealous now. “Course she does,” said the usher,
“it’s more her fault than theirs. It was her who
attached herself to him. All he did, he just chases after any
woman. There’s five flats in this block alone where
he’s been thrown out after working his way in there. And my
wife is the best looking woman in the whole building, but
it’s me who’s not even allowed to defend
himself.” “If that’s how things are, then
there’s nothing that can be done,” said K. “Well
why not?” asked the usher. “He’s a coward that
student, if he wants to lay a finger on my wife all you’d
have to do is give him such a good hiding he’d never dare do
it again. But I’m not allowed to do that, and nobody else is
going to do me the favour as they’re all afraid of his power.
The only one who could do it is a man like you.” “What,
how could I do it?” asked K. in astonishment. “Well
you’re facing a charge, aren’t you,” said the
usher. “Yes, but that’s all the more reason for me to
be afraid. Even if he has no influence on the outcome of the trial
he probably has some on the initial examination.” “Yes,
exactly,” said the usher, as if K.’s view had been just
as correct as his own. “Only we don’t usually get any
trials heard here with no hope at all.” “I am not of
the same opinion”, said K., “although that ought not to
prevent me from dealing with the student if the opportunity
arises.” “I would be very grateful to you,” said
the usher of the court, somewhat formally, not really seeming to
believe that his highest wish could be fulfilled.
“Perhaps,” continued K., “perhaps there are some
other officials of yours here, perhaps all of them, who would
deserve the same.” “Oh yes, yes,” said the usher,
as if this was a matter of course. Then he looked at K. trustingly
which, despite all his friendliness, he had not done until then,
and added, “they’re always rebelling.” But the
conversation seemed to have become a little uncomfortable for him,
as he broke it off by saying, “now I have to report to the
office. Would you like to come with me?” “There’s
nothing for me to do there,” said K. “You’d be
able to have a look at it. No-one will take any notice of
you.” “Is it worth seeing then?” asked K.
hesitatingly, although he felt very keen to go with him.
“Well,” said the usher, “I thought you’d be
interested in it.” “Alright then,” said K.
finally, “I’ll come with you.” And, quicker than
the usher himself, he ran up the steps.
At the entrance he nearly fell over, as behind the door there
was another step. “They don’t show much concern for the
public,” he said. “They don’t show any concern at
all,” said the usher, “just look at the waiting room
here.” It consisted of a long corridor from which roughly
made doors led out to the separate departments of the attic. There
was no direct source of light but it was not entirely dark as many
of the departments, instead of solid walls, had just wooden bars
reaching up to the ceiling to separate them from the corridor. The
light made its way in through them, and it was also possible to see
individual officials through them as they sat writing at their
desks or stood up at the wooden frameworks and watched the people
on the corridor through the gaps. There were only a few people in
the corridor, probably because it was Sunday. They were not very
impressive. They sat, equally spaced, on two rows of long wooden
benches which had been placed along both sides of the corridor. All
of them were carelessly dressed although the expressions on their
faces, their bearing, the style of their beards and many details
which were hard to identify showed that they belonged to the upper
classes. There were no coat hooks for them to use, and so they had
placed their hats under the bench, each probably having followed
the example of the others. When those who were sitting nearest the
door saw K. and the usher of the court they stood up to greet them,
and when the others saw that, they also thought they had to greet
them, so that as the two of them went by all the people there stood
up. None of them stood properly upright, their backs were bowed,
their knees bent, they stood like beggars on the street. K. waited
for the usher, who was following just behind him. “They must
all be very dispirited,” he said. “Yes,” said the
usher, “they are the accused, everyone you see here has been
accused.” “Really!” said K. “They’re
colleagues of mine then.” And he turned to the nearest one, a
tall, thin man with hair that was nearly grey. “What is it
you are waiting for here?” asked K., politely, but the man
was startled at being spoken to unexpectedly, which was all the
more pitiful to see because the man clearly had some experience of
the world and elsewhere would certainly have been able to show his
superiority and would not have easily given up the advantage he had
acquired. Here, though, he did not know what answer to give to such
a simple question and looked round at the others as if they were
under some obligation to help him, and as if no-one could expect
any answer from him without this help. Then the usher of the court
stepped forward to him and, in order to calm him down and raise his
spirits, said, “The gentleman here’s only asking what
it is you’re waiting for. You can give him an answer.”
The voice of the usher was probably familiar to him, and had a
better effect than K.’s. “I’m ... I’m
waiting ...” he began, and then came to a halt. He had
clearly chosen this beginning so that he could give a precise
answer to the question, but now he didn’t know how to
continue. Some of the others waiting had come closer and stood
round the group, the usher of the court said to them, “Get
out the way, keep the gangway free.” They moved back
slightly, but not as far as where they had been sitting before. In
the meantime, the man whom K. had first approached had pulled
himself together and even answered him with a smile. “A month
ago I made some applications for evidence to be heard in my case,
and I’m waiting for it to be settled.” “You
certainly seem to be going to a lot of effort,” said K.
“Yes,” said the man, “it is my affair after
all.” “Not everyone thinks the same way as you
do,” said K. “I’ve been indicted as well but I
swear on my soul that I’ve neither submitted evidence nor
done anything else of the sort. Do you really think that’s
necessary?” “I don’t really know, exactly,”
said the man, once more totally unsure of himself; he clearly
thought K. was joking with him and therefore probably thought it
best to repeat his earlier answer in order to avoid making any new
mistakes. With K. looking at him impatiently, he just said,
“as far as I’m concerned, I’ve applied to have
this evidence heard.” “Perhaps you don’t believe
I’ve been indicted?” asked K. “Oh, please, I
certainly do,” said the man, stepping slightly to one side,
but there was more anxiety in his answer than belief. “You
don’t believe me then?” asked K., and took hold of his
arm, unconsciously prompted by the man’s humble demeanour,
and as if he wanted to force him to believe him. But he did not
want to hurt the man and had only taken hold of him very lightly.
Nonetheless, the man cried out as if K. had grasped him not with
two fingers but with red hot tongs. Shouting in this ridiculous way
finally made K. tired of him, if he didn’t believe he was
indicted then so much the better; maybe he even thought K. was a
judge. And before leaving, he held him a lot harder, shoved him
back onto the bench and walked on. “These defendants are so
sensitive, most of them,” said the usher of the court. Almost
all of those who had been waiting had now assembled around the man
who, by now, had stopped shouting and they seemed to be asking him
lots of precise questions about the incident. K. was approached by
a security guard, identifiable mainly by his sword, of which the
scabbard seemed to be made of aluminium. This greatly surprised K.,
and he reached out for it with his hand. The guard had come because
of the shouting and asked what had been happening. The usher of the
court said a few words to try and calm him down but the guard
explained that he had to look into it himself, saluted, and hurried
on, walking with very short steps, probably because of gout.
K. didn’t concern himself long with the guard or these
people, especially as he saw a turning off the corridor, about half
way along it on the right hand side, where there was no door to
stop him going that way. He asked the usher whether that was the
right way to go, the usher nodded, and that is the way that K.
went. The usher remained always one or two steps behind K, which he
found irritating as in a place like this it could give the
impression that he was being driven along by someone who had
arrested him, so he frequently waited for the usher to catch up,
but the usher always remained behind him. In order to put an end to
his discomfort, K. finally said, “Now that I’ve seen
what it looks like here, I’d like to go.” “You
haven’t seen everything yet,” said the usher
ingenuously. “I don’t want to see everything,”
said K., who was also feeling very tired, “I want to go, what
is the way to the exit?” “You haven’t got lost,
have you?” asked the usher in amazement, “you go down
this way to the corner, then right down the corridor straight ahead
as far as the door.” “Come with me,” said K.,
“show me the way, I’ll miss it, there are so many
different ways here.” “It’s the only way there
is,” said the usher, who had now started to sound quite
reproachful, “I can’t go back with you again,
I’ve got to hand in my report, and I’ve already lost a
lot of time because of you as it is.” “Come with
me!” K. repeated, now somewhat sharper as if he had finally
caught the usher out in a lie. “Don’t shout like
that,” whispered the usher, “there’s offices all
round us here. If you don’t want to go back by yourself come
on a bit further with me or else wait here till I’ve sorted
out my report, then I’ll be glad to go back with you
again.” “No, no,” said K., “I will not wait
and you must come with me now.” K. had still not looked round
at anything at all in the room where he found himself, and it was
only when one of the many wooden doors all around him opened that
he noticed it. A young woman, probably summoned by the loudness of
K.’s voice, entered and asked, “What is it the
gentleman wants?” In the darkness behind her there was also a
man approaching. K. looked at the usher. He had, after all, said
that no-one would take any notice of K., and now there were two
people coming, it only needed a few and everyone in the office
would become aware of him and asking for explanations as to why he
was there. The only understandable and acceptable thing to say was
that he was accused of something and wanted to know the date of his
next hearing, but this was an explanation he did not want to give,
especially as it was not true — he had only come out of
curiosity. Or else, an explanation even less usable, he could say
that he wanted to ascertain that the court was as revolting on the
inside as it was on the outside. And it did seem that he had been
quite right in this supposition, he had no wish to intrude any
deeper, he was disturbed enough by what he had seen already, he was
not in the right frame of mind just then to face a high official
such as might appear from behind any door, and he wanted to go,
either with the usher of the court or, if needs be, alone.
But he must have seemed very odd standing there in silence, and
the young woman and the usher were indeed looking at him as if they
thought he would go through some major metamorphosis any second
which they didn’t want to miss seeing. And in the doorway
stood the man whom K. had noticed in the background earlier, he
held firmly on to the beam above the low door swinging a little on
the tips of his feet as if becoming impatient as he watched. But
the young woman was the first to recognise that K.’s
behaviour was caused by his feeling slightly unwell, she brought a
chair and asked, “Would you not like to sit down?” K.
sat down immediately and, in order to keep his place better, put
his elbows on the armrests. “You’re a little bit dizzy,
aren’t you?” she asked him. Her face was now close in
front of him, it bore the severe expression that many young women
have just when they’re in the bloom of their youth.
“It’s nothing for you to worry about,” she said,
“that’s nothing unusual here, almost everyone gets an
attack like that the first time they come here. This is your first
time is it? Yes, it’s nothing unusual then. The sun burns
down on the roof and the hot wood makes the air so thick and heavy.
It makes this place rather unsuitable for offices, whatever other
advantages it might offer. But the air is almost impossible to
breathe on days when there’s a lot of business, and
that’s almost every day. And when you think that
there’s a lot of washing put out to dry here as well —
and we can’t stop the tenants doing that — it’s
not surprising you started to feel unwell. But you get used to the
air alright in the end. When you’re here for the second or
third time you’ll hardly notice how oppressive the air is.
Are you feeling any better now?” K. made no answer, he felt
too embarrassed at being put at the mercy of these people by his
sudden weakness, and learning the reason for feeling ill made him
feel not better but a little worse. The girl noticed it straight
away, and to make the air fresher for K., she took a window pole
that was leaning against the wall and pushed open a small hatch
directly above K.’s head that led to the outside. But so much
soot fell in that the girl had to immediately close the hatch again
and clean the soot off K.’s hands with her handkerchief, as
K. was too tired to do that for himself. He would have liked just
to sit quietly where he was until he had enough strength to leave,
and the less fuss people made about him the sooner that would be.
But then the girl said, “You can’t stay here,
we’re in people’s way here ...” K. looked at her
as if to ask whose way they were impeding. “If you like, I
can take you to the sick room,” and turning to the man in the
doorway said, “please help me”. The man immediately
came over to them, but K. did not want to go to the sick room, that
was just what he wanted to avoid, being led further from place to
place, the further he went the more difficult it must become. So he
said, “I am able to walk now,” and stood up, shaking
after becoming used to sitting so comfortably. But then he was
unable to stay upright. “I can’t manage it,” he
said shaking his head, and sat down again with a sigh. He
remembered the usher who, despite everything, would have been able
to lead him out of there but who seemed to have gone long before.
K. looked out between the man and the young woman who were standing
in front of him but was unable to find the usher. “I
think,” said the man, who was elegantly dressed and whose
appearance was made especially impressive with a grey waistcoat
that had two long, sharply tailored points, “the gentleman is
feeling unwell because of the atmosphere here, so the best thing,
and what he would most prefer, would be not to take him to the sick
room but get him out of the offices altogether.”
“That’s right,” exclaimed K., with such joy that
he nearly interrupted what the man was saying, “I’m
sure that’ll make me feel better straight away, I’m
really not that weak, all I need is a little support under my arms,
I won’t cause you much trouble, it’s not such a long
way anyway, lead me to the door and then I’ll sit on the
stairs for a while and soon recover, as I don’t suffer from
attacks like this at all, I’m surprised at it myself. I also
work in an office and I’m quite used to office air, but here
it seems to be too strong, you’ve said so yourselves. So
please, be so kind as to help me on my way a little, I’m
feeling dizzy, you see, and it’ll make me ill if I stand up
by myself.” And with that he raised his shoulders to make it
easier for the two of them to take him by the arms.
The man, however, didn’t follow this suggestion but just
stood there with his hands in his trouser pockets and laughed out
loud. “There, you see,” he said to the girl, “I
was quite right. The gentleman is only unwell here, and not in
general.” The young woman smiled too, but lightly tapped the
man’s arm with the tips of her fingers as if he had allowed
himself too much fun with K. “So what do you think,
then?” said the man, still laughing, “I really do want
to lead the gentleman out of here.” “That’s
alright, then,” said the girl, briefly inclining her charming
head. “Don’t worry too much about him laughing,”
said the girl to K., who had become unhappy once more and stared
quietly in front of himself as if needing no further explanation.
“This gentleman — may I introduce you?” —
(the man gave his permission with a wave of the hand) —
“so, this gentleman’s job is to give out information.
He gives all the information they need to people who are waiting,
as our court and its offices are not very well known among the
public he gets asked for quite a lot. He has an answer for every
question, you can try him out if you feel like it. But that’s
not his only distinction, his other distinction is his elegance of
dress. We, that’s to say all of us who work in the offices
here, we decided that the information-giver would have to be
elegantly dressed as he continually has to deal with the litigants
and he’s the first one they meet, so he needs to give a
dignified first impression. The rest of us I’m afraid, as you
can see just by looking at me, dress very badly and old-fashioned;
and there’s not much point in spending much on clothes
anyway, as we hardly ever leave the offices, we even sleep here.
But, as I said, we decided that the information-giver would have to
have nice clothes. As the management here is rather peculiar in
this respect, and they would get them for us, we had a collection
— some of the litigants contributed too — and bought
him these lovely clothes and some others besides. So everything
would be ready for him to give a good impression, except that he
spoils it again by laughing and frightening people.”
“That’s how it is,” said the man, mocking her,
“but I don’t understand why it is that you’re
explaining all our intimate facts to the gentleman, or rather why
it is that you’re pressing them on him, as I’m sure
he’s not all interested. Just look at him sitting there,
it’s clear he’s occupied with his own affairs.”
K. just did not feel like contradicting him.. The girl’s
intention may have been good, perhaps she was under instructions to
distract him or to give him the chance to collect himself, but the
attempt had not worked. “I had to explain to him why you were
laughing,” said the girl. “I suppose it was
insulting.” “I think he would forgive even worse
insults if I finally took him outside.” K. said nothing, did
not even look up, he tolerated the two of them negotiating over him
like an object, that was even what suited him best. But suddenly he
felt the information-giver’s hand on one arm and the young
woman’s hand on the other. “Up you get then,
weakling,” said the information-giver. “Thank you both
very much,” said K., pleasantly surprised, as he slowly rose
and personally guided these unfamiliar hands to the places where he
most needed support. As they approached the corridor, the girl said
quietly into K.’s ear, “I must seem to think it’s
very important to show the information-giver in a good light, but
you shouldn’t doubt what I say, I just want to say the truth.
He isn’t hard-hearted. It’s not really his job to help
litigants outside if they’re unwell but he’s doing it
anyway, as you can see. I don’t suppose any of us is
hard-hearted, perhaps we’d all like to be helpful, but
working for the court offices it’s easy for us to give the
impression we are hard-hearted and don’t want to help anyone.
It makes me quite sad.” “Would you not like to sit down
here a while?” asked the information-giver, there were
already in the corridor and just in front of the defendant whom K.
had spoken to earlier. K. felt almost ashamed to be seen by him,
earlier he had stood so upright in front of him and now he had to
be supported by two others, his hat was held up by the
information-giver balanced on outstretched fingers, his hair was
dishevelled and hung down onto the sweat on his forehead. But the
defendant seemed to notice nothing of what was going on and just
stood there humbly, as if wanting to apologise to the
information-giver for being there. The information-giver looked
past him. “I know,” he said, “that my case
can’t be settled today, not yet, but I’ve come in
anyway, I thought, I thought I could wait here anyway, it’s
Sunday today, I’ve got plenty of time, and I’m not
disturbing anyone here.” “There’s no need to be
so apologetic,” said the information-giver, “it’s
very commendable for you to be so attentive. You are taking up
space here when you don’t need to but as long as you
don’t get in my way I will do nothing to stop you following
the progress of your case as closely as you like. When one has seen
so many people who shamefully neglect their cases one learns to
show patience with people like you. Do sit down.”
“He’s very good with the litigants,” whispered
the girl. K. nodded, but started to move off again when the
information-giver repeated, “Would you not like to sit down
here a while?” “No, “said K., “I
don’t want to rest.” He had said that as decisively as
he could, but in fact it would have done him a lot of good to sit
down. It was as if he were suffering sea-sickness. He felt as if he
were on a ship in a rough sea, as if the water were hitting against
the wooden walls, a thundering from the depths of the corridor as
if the torrent were crashing over it, as if the corridor were
swaying and the waiting litigants on each side of it rising and
sinking. It made the calmness of the girl and the man leading him
all the more incomprehensible. He was at their mercy, if they let
go of him he would fall like a board. Their little eyes glanced
here and there, K. could feel the evenness of their steps but could
not do the same, as from step to step he was virtually being
carried. He finally noticed they were speaking to him but he did
not understand them, all he heard was a noise that filled all the
space and through which there seemed to be an unchanging higher
note sounding, like a siren. “Louder,” he whispered
with his head sunk low, ashamed at having to ask them to speak
louder when he knew they had spoken loudly enough, even if it had
been, for him, incomprehensible. At last, a draught of cool air
blew in his face as if a gap had been torn out in the wall in front
of him, and next to him he heard someone say, “First he says
he wants to go, and then you can tell him a hundred times that this
is the way out and he doesn’t move.” K. became aware
that he was standing in front of the way out, and that the young
woman had opened the door. It seemed to him that all his strength
returned to him at once, and to get a foretaste of freedom he
stepped straight on to one of the stairs and took his leave there
of his companions, who bowed to him. “Thank you very
much,” he repeated, shook their hands once more and did not
let go until he thought he saw that they found it hard to bear the
comparatively fresh air from the stairway after being so long used
to the air in the offices. They were hardly able to reply, and the
young woman might even have fallen over if K. had not shut the door
extremely fast. K. then stood still for a while, combed his hair
with the help of a pocket mirror, picked up his hat from the next
stair — the information-giver must have thrown it down there
— and then he ran down the steps so fresh and in such long
leaps that the contrast with his previous state nearly frightened
him. His normally sturdy state of health had never prepared him for
surprises such as this. Did his body want to revolt and cause him a
new trial as he was bearing the old one with such little effort? He
did not quite reject the idea that he should see a doctor the next
time he had the chance, but whatever he did — and this was
something on which he could advise himself — he wanted to
spend all Sunday mornings in future better than he had spent this
one.