Chapter 5

20 min

The man before the machine which was like Ganesha, the god with the elephant’s head, was no longer a human being. Merely a dripping piece of exhaustion, from the pores of which the last powers of volition were oozing out in large drops of sweat. Running eyes no longer saw the manometer. The hand did not hold the lever—it clawed it fast in the last hold which saved the mangled man-creature before it from falling into the crushing arms of the machine.

The machine resembled Ganesha, the elephant-headed god. The man standing before it was no longer a human being. He was merely a dripping mass of exhaustion, his last powers of will oozing from his pores in large drops of sweat. His streaming eyes could no longer see the pressure gauge. His hand did not hold the lever. It clung to it in a final grip, keeping the mangled man-creature from falling into the crushing arms of the machine.

The Pater-noster works of the New Tower of Babel turned their buckets with an easy smoothness. The eye of the little machine smiled softly and maliciously at the man who stood before it and who was now no more than a babel.

The Pater-noster works of the New Tower of Babel turned their buckets smoothly and effortlessly. The little machine’s eye smiled softly and maliciously at the man standing before it. He was now no more than a babel.

“Father!” babbled the son of Joh Fredersen, “to-day, for the first time, since Metropolis stood, you have forgotten to let your city and your great machines roar punctually for fresh food.... Has Metropolis gone dumb, father? Look at us! Look at your machines! Your god-machines turn sick at the chewed-up cuds in their mouths—at the mangled food that we are.... Why do you strangle its voice to death? Will ten hours never, never come to an end? Our Father, which art in heaven—!”

“Father!” babbled Joh Fredersen’s son. “Today, for the first time since Metropolis was built, you forgot to make your city and your great machines roar for fresh food on schedule.... Has Metropolis gone silent, father? Look at us! Look at your machines! Your god-machines are sickened by the chewed-up cud in their mouths, the mangled food that we are.... Why are you strangling its voice to death? Will ten hours never, never end? Our Father, who art in heaven, hear us!”

But in this moment Joh Fredersen’s fingers were pressing the little blue metal plate and the voice of the great Metropolis.

But at that moment, Joh Fredersen’s fingers were pressing the small blue metal plate and the voice of the great Metropolis.

“Thank you, father!” said the mangled soul before the machine, which was like Ganesha. He smiled. He tasted a salty taste on his lips and did not know if it was from blood, sweat or tears. From out a red mist of long-flamed, drawn-out clouds, fresh men shuffled on towards him. His hand slipped from the lever and he collapsed. Arms pulled him up and led him away. He turned his head aside to hide his face.

“Thank you, father!” said the mangled soul before the machine, which was like Ganesha. He smiled. He tasted salt on his lips and did not know if it came from blood, sweat, or tears. Fresh men shuffled toward him through a red mist of long, flame-like clouds. His hand slipped from the lever, and he collapsed. Arms pulled him up and led him away. He turned his head aside to hide his face.

The eye of the little machine, the soft, malicious eye, twinkled at him from behind.

The little machine's soft, malicious eye twinkled at him from behind.

“Good-bye, friend,” said the little machine.

“Goodbye, friend,” said the little machine.

Freder’s head fell upon his breast. He felt himself dragged further, heard the dull evenness of feet tramping onwards, felt himself tramping, a member of twelve members. The ground under his feet began to roll; it was drawn upwards, pulling him up with it.

Freder’s head fell onto his chest. He felt himself being dragged farther along. He heard the dull, steady sound of feet marching on and felt himself marching, one of twelve. The ground beneath his feet began to roll. It rose, pulling him up with it.

Doors stood open, double doors. Towards him came a stream of men.

The double doors stood open. A stream of men came toward him.

The great Metropolis was still roaring.

Suddenly she fell dumb and in the silence Freder became aware of the breath of a man at his ear, and of a voice—merely a breath—which asked:

Suddenly she fell silent. In the silence, Freder became aware of a man breathing in his ear. A voice, barely more than a breath, asked:

“She has called.... Are you coming?”

“She called.... Are you coming?”

He did not know what the question meant, but he nodded. He wanted to get to know the ways of those who walked, as he, in blue linen, in the black cap, in the hard shoes.

He did not know what the question meant, but he nodded. He wanted to learn the ways of those who, like him, walked in blue linen, black caps, and hard shoes.

With tightly closed eye-lids he groped on, shoulder to shoulder with an unknown man.

With his eyes tightly shut, he felt his way forward, shoulder to shoulder with a stranger.

She has called, he thought, half asleep. Who is that ... she...?

She called, he thought, half asleep. Who is she...?

He walked and walked in smouldering weariness. The way would never, never come to an end. He did not know where he was walking. He heard the tramp of those who were walking with him like the sound of perpetually falling water.

He walked and walked, exhausted to the point of smouldering. The way would never, never end. He did not know where he was going. He heard the footsteps of those walking with him, like the sound of endlessly falling water.

She has called! he thought. Who is that: she, whose voice is so powerful that these men, exhausted to death by utter weariness, voluntarily throw off sleep, which is the sweetest thing of all to the weary—to follow her when her voice calls?

She has called! he thought. Who is she? Her voice is so powerful that these men, exhausted to the point of death, willingly give up sleep. Sleep is the sweetest thing of all to the weary, yet they give it up to follow her when she calls.

It can’t be very much further to the centre of the earth....

It can’t be much farther to the center of the earth....

Still deeper—still deeper down?

Even deeper, even farther down?

No longer any light round about, only, here and there, twinkling pocket torches, in men’s hands.

There was no light around them anymore, only pocket flashlights twinkling here and there in men’s hands.

At last, in the far distance, a dull shimmer.

At last, a faint glimmer in the distance.

Have we wandered so far to walk towards the sun, thought Freder, and does the sun dwell in the bowels of the earth?

Have we wandered so far to walk toward the sun, Freder wondered, and is the sun deep underground?

The procession came to a standstill. Freder stopped too. He staggered against the dry, cool stones.

The procession stopped. Freder stopped too. He staggered against the dry, cool stones.

Where are we, he thought—in a cave? If the sun dwells here, then she can’t be at home now.... I am afraid we have come in vain.... Let us turn back, brother.... Let us sleep....

Where are we, he thought. In a cave? If the sun lives here, she can’t be home now.... I’m afraid we’ve come for nothing.... Let’s turn back, brother.... Let’s sleep....

He slid along the wall, fell on his knees, leant his head against the stone ... how smooth it was.

He slid along the wall and fell to his knees. He rested his head against the stone ... how smooth it was.

The murmur of human voices was around him, like the rustling of trees, moved by the wind....

The murmur of voices surrounded him, like trees rustling in the wind....

He smiled peacefully. It’s wonderful to be tired....

Then a voice—a voice began to speak....

Then a voice, a voice began to speak....

Oh—sweet voice, thought Freder dreamily. Tender beloved voice, your voice, Virgin-mother! I have fallen asleep.... Yes, I am dreaming! I am dreaming of your voice, beloved!

Oh, sweet voice, Freder thought dreamily. Tender, beloved voice, your voice, Virgin-mother! I have fallen asleep. Yes, I am dreaming! I am dreaming of your voice, beloved!

But a slight pain at his temple made him think: I am leaning my head on stone ... I am conscious of the coldness which comes out of the stone ... I feel coldness under my knees ... so I am not sleeping—I am only dreaming ... suppose it is not a dream...? Suppose it is reality...?

But a slight pain in his temple made him think: My head is resting on stone ... I can feel the cold coming from the stone ... I feel cold under my knees ... so I’m not asleep. I’m only dreaming ... but what if it isn’t a dream...? What if it’s real...?

With an exertion of will which brought a groan from him he forced open his eyes and looked about him.

He forced his eyes open with an effort that made him groan, then looked around.

A vault, like the vault of a sepulchre, human heads so closely crowded together as to produce the effect of clods on a freshly ploughed field. All heads turned towards one point: to the source of a light, as mild as God.

A vaulted chamber, like a tomb, was packed with human heads. They were crowded so closely together that they looked like clods of earth in a freshly plowed field. All the heads turned toward one point: the source of a light as gentle as God.

Candles burnt with sword-like flames. Slender, lustrous swords of light stood in a circle around the head of a girl, whose voice was as the Amen of God.

Candles burned with swordlike flames. Slender, shining swords of light formed a circle around a girl’s head. Her voice was like the Amen of God.

The voice spoke, but Freder did not hear the words. He heard nothing but a sound, the blessed melody of which was saturated with sweetness as is the air of a garden of blossoms with fragrance. And suddenly there sprang up above this melody the wild throb of a heart-beat. The air stormed with bells. The walls shook under the surf of an invisible organ. Weariness—exhaustion—faded out! He felt his body from head to foot to be one single instrument of blissfulness—all strings stretched to bursting point, yet tuned together into the purest, hottest, most radiant accord, in which his whole being hung, quivering.

The voice spoke, but Freder did not hear the words. He heard only a sound, a blessed melody as full of sweetness as the air in a garden of blossoms is full of fragrance. Suddenly, the wild throb of a heartbeat rose above the melody. Bells stormed through the air. The walls shook under the surging sound of an invisible organ. His weariness and exhaustion faded away! He felt that his whole body, from head to foot, was a single instrument of bliss. All its strings were stretched to the breaking point, yet tuned together in the purest, most intense, most radiant harmony. His whole being hung in that harmony, quivering.

He longed to stroke with his hands the stones on which he knelt. He longed to kiss with unbounded tenderness the stones on which he rested his head. God—God—God—beat the heart in his breast, and every throb was a thank-offering. He looked at the girl, and yet he did not see her. He saw only a shimmer; he knelt before it.

He longed to stroke the stones beneath his knees. He longed to kiss the stones beneath his head with endless tenderness. God, God, God, his heart beat in his chest, and every beat was an offering of thanks. He looked at the girl, but he did not see her. He saw only a shimmer, and he knelt before it.

Gracious one, formed his mouth. Mine! Mine! My beloved! How could the world have existed before you were? How must God have smiled when he created you! You are speaking?—What are you saying?—My heart is shouting within me—I cannot catch your words.... Be patient with me, gracious one, beloved!

His lips formed the words: Gracious one. Mine! Mine! My beloved! How could the world have existed before you? How God must have smiled when he created you! Are you speaking? What are you saying? My heart is shouting inside me. I cannot make out your words.... Be patient with me, gracious one, beloved!

Without his being aware of it, drawn by an invisible unbreakable cord, he pushed himself forward on his knees, nearer and nearer to the shimmer which the girl’s face was to him. At last he was so near that he could have touched the hem of her dress with his outstretched hand.

Without realizing it, he moved forward on his knees, drawn by an invisible, unbreakable cord. He drew closer and closer to the shimmer of the girl’s face. At last, he was close enough to reach out and touch the hem of her dress.

“Look at me, Virgin!” implored his eyes. “Mother, look at me!”

“Look at me, Virgin!” his eyes pleaded. “Mother, look at me!”

But her gentle eyes looked out over him. Her lips said:

But her gentle eyes looked past him. Her lips spoke:

“My brothers....”

And stopped dumb, as though alarmed.

And stopped, speechless, as if alarmed.

Freder raised his head. Nothing had happened—nothing to speak of, only that the air which passed through the room had suddenly become audible, like a raised breath, and that it was cool, as though coming in through open doors.

Freder raised his head. Nothing much had happened. The air moving through the room had suddenly become audible, like a drawn breath. It was cool, as if coming through open doors.

With a faint crackling sound the swords of flame bowed themselves. Then they stood still again.

With a faint crackle, the swords of flame bowed. Then they stood still again.

“Speak, my beloved!” said Freder’s heart.

“Speak, my love!” said Freder’s heart.

Yes, now she spoke. This is what she said:

Yes, now she spoke. Here is what she said:

“Do you want to know how the building of the Tower of Babel began, and do you want to know how it ended? I see a man who comes from the Dawn of the World. He is as beautiful as the world, and has a burning heart. He loves to walk upon the mountains and to offer his breast unto the wind and to speak with the stars. He is strong and rules all creatures. He dreams of God and feels himself closely tied to him. His nights are filled with faces.

“Do you want to know how the building of the Tower of Babel began? And do you want to know how it ended? I see a man who comes from the Dawn of the World. He is as beautiful as the world and has a burning heart. He loves to walk on the mountains, face the wind, and speak with the stars. He is strong and rules all creatures. He dreams of God and feels closely connected to him. His nights are filled with faces.

“One hallowed hour bursts his heart. The firmament is above him and his friends. ‘Oh friends! Friends!’ he cries, pointing to the stars. ‘Great is the world and its Creator! Great is man! Come, let us build a tower, the top of which reaches the sky! And when we stand on its top, and hear the stars ringing above us, then let us write our creed in golden symbols on the top of the tower! Great is the world and its creator! And great is man!'

“One sacred moment makes his heart burst. The sky stretches above him and his friends. ‘Oh friends! Friends!’ he cries, pointing to the stars. ‘The world and its Creator are great! Man is great! Come, let us build a tower that reaches the sky! When we stand at the top and hear the stars ringing above us, let us write our creed there in golden symbols! The world and its Creator are great! And man is great!’

“And they set to, a handful of men, full of confidence, and they made bricks and dug up to the earth. Never have men worked more rapidly, for they all had one thought, one aim and one dream. When they rested from work in the evening each knew of what the other was thinking. They did not need speech to make themselves understood. But after some time they knew: The work was greater than their working hands. Then they enlisted new friends to their work. Then their work grew. It grew overwhelming. Then the builders sent their messengers to all four winds of the world and enlisted Hands, working Hands for their mighty work.

“And a handful of men set to work, full of confidence. They made bricks and dug into the earth. Never had men worked faster, for they all shared one thought, one aim, and one dream. When they rested in the evening, each knew what the others were thinking. They did not need words to understand one another. But after a while, they realized the work was too great for their hands alone. So they enlisted new friends to help. Then their work grew. It became overwhelming. The builders sent messengers to all four corners of the world. They enlisted Hands, working Hands, for their mighty work.

“The Hands came. The Hands worked for wages. The Hands did not even know what they were making. None of those building Southwards knew one of those digging toward the North. The Brain which conceived the construction of the Tower of Babel was unknown to those who built it. Brain and Hands were far apart and strangers. Brain and Hands became enemies. The pleasure of one became the other’s burden. The hymn of praise of one became the other’s curse.

“The Hands came. The Hands worked for wages. The Hands did not even know what they were making. None of those building toward the south knew anyone digging toward the north. The people building the Tower of Babel did not know the Brain that had designed it. Brain and Hands were far apart and strangers to each other. Brain and Hands became enemies. What pleased one became a burden to the other. One sang a hymn of praise, while the other cursed.

“'Babel!’ shouted one, meaning: Divinity, Coronation, Eternal, Triumph!

“'Babel!’ one shouted, meaning: Divinity, Coronation, Eternal, Triumph!

“'Babel!’ shouted the other, meaning: Hell, Slavery, Eternal, Damnation!

“The same word was prayer and blasphemy. Speaking the same words, the men did not understand each other.

“The same word was both a prayer and a blasphemy. The men spoke the same words, but they did not understand each other.

“That men no longer understood each other, that Brain and Hands no longer understood each other, was to blame that the Tower of Babel was given up to destruction, that never were the words of those who had conceived it written on its top in golden symbols: Great is the world and its Creator! And great is man!

“People no longer understood one another, and Brain and Hands no longer understood each other. Because of this, the Tower of Babel was abandoned to destruction. The words of those who had conceived it were never written at the top in golden symbols: Great is the world and its Creator! And great is man!

“That Brain and Hands no longer understand each other will one day destroy the New Tower of Babel.

“Brain and Hands no longer understand each other. One day, this will destroy the New Tower of Babel.

“Brain and Hands need a mediator. The Mediator between Brain and Hands must be the Heart....”

“The Brain and the Hands need a mediator. The mediator between the Brain and the Hands must be the Heart....”

She was silent. A breath like a sigh came up from the silent lips of the listeners.

She fell silent. A breath like a sigh rose from the listeners' silent lips.

Then one stood up slowly, resting his fists upon the shoulders of the man who crouched before him, and asked, raising his thin face with its fanatical eyes to the girl:

Then one man slowly stood up, resting his fists on the shoulders of the man crouching in front of him. He raised his thin face and fanatical eyes to the girl and asked:

“And where is our mediator, Maria?”

The girl looked at him, and over her sweet face passed the gleam of a boundless confidence.

The girl looked at him, and a glimmer of boundless confidence crossed her sweet face.

“Wait for him,” she said. “He is sure to come.”

“Wait for him,” she said. “He’ll definitely come.”

A murmur ran through the rows of men. Freder bowed his head to the girl’s feet. His whole soul said:

A murmur spread through the rows of men. Freder bowed his head to the girl’s feet. His whole soul said:

“It shall be I.”

“It will be me.”

But she did not see him and she did not hear him.

But she didn't see him or hear him.

“Be patient, my brothers!” she said. “The way which your mediator must take is long.... There are many among you who cry, ‘Fight! Destroy!'—Do not fight, my brothers, for that makes you to sin. Believe me: One will come, who will speak for you—who will be the mediator between you, the Hands, and the man whose Brain and Will are over you all. He will give you something which is more precious than anything which anybody could give you: To be free, without sinning.”

“Be patient, my brothers!” she said. “Your mediator has a long way to go.... Many of you cry, ‘Fight! Destroy!’ Do not fight, my brothers, because fighting makes you sin. Believe me: Someone will come to speak for you. He will be the mediator between you, the Hands, and the man whose Brain and Will rule over you all. He will give you something more precious than anything anyone else could give you: the freedom to be free without sinning.”

She stood up from the stone upon which she had been sitting. A movement ran through the heads turned towards her. A voice was raised. The speaker was not to be seen. It was as if they all spoke:

She stood up from the stone where she had been sitting. The heads turned toward her stirred. A voice spoke. The speaker could not be seen. It was as if they all spoke:

“We shall wait, Maria. But not much longer—!”

“We'll wait, Maria. But not much longer!”

The girl was silent. With her sad eyes she seemed to be seeking the speaker among the crowd.

The girl said nothing. Her sad eyes seemed to search the crowd for the speaker.

A man who stood before her spoke up to her:

A man standing in front of her spoke to her:

“And if we fight—where will you be then?”

“And if we fight, where will you be then?”

“With you!” said the girl, opening her hands with the gesture of one sacrificing. “Have you ever found me faithless?”

“With you!” said the girl, opening her hands as if making a sacrifice. “Have I ever been unfaithful to you?”

“Never!” said the men. “You are like gold to us. We shall do what you expect of us.”

“Never!” said the men. “You are like gold to us. We’ll do what you expect of us.”

“Thank you,” said the girl, closing her eyes. With bowed head she stood there, listening to the sound of retiring feet—feet which walked in hard shoes.

“Thank you,” said the girl, closing her eyes. She stood with her head bowed, listening to the sound of footsteps walking away in hard shoes.

Only when all about her had become silent and when the last footfall had died away she sighed and opened her eyes.

Only when everything around her was silent and the last footsteps had faded away did she sigh and open her eyes.

Then she saw a man, wearing the blue linen and the black cap and the hard shoes, kneeling at her feet.

Then she saw a man kneeling at her feet. He wore blue linen, a black cap, and hard shoes.

She bent down. He raised his head. She looked at him.

And then she recognised him.

And then she recognized him.

Behind them, in a vault that was shaped like a pointed devil’s-ear, one man’s hand seized another man’s arm.

Behind them, in a vault shaped like a devil’s pointed ear, one man grabbed another man’s arm.

“Hush! Keep quiet!” whispered the voice, which was soundless and yet which had the effect of laughter—like the laughter of spiteful mockery.

“Hush! Keep quiet!” whispered the voice. It made no sound, yet it had the effect of spiteful, mocking laughter.

The girl’s face was as a crystal, filled with snow. She made a movement as if for flight. But her knees would not obey her. Reeds which stand in troubled water do not tremble more than her shoulders trembled.

The girl’s face was like a crystal filled with snow. She moved as if to flee. But her knees would not obey her. Her shoulders trembled as much as reeds in troubled water.

“If you have come to betray us, son of Joh Fredersen, then you will have but little blessing from it,” she said softly, but in a clear voice.

“If you have come to betray us, son of Joh Fredersen, you will gain little from it,” she said softly, but clearly.

He stood up and remained standing before her.

He stood up and stayed standing in front of her.

“Is that all the faith you have in me?” he asked gravely.

“Is that all the faith you have in me?” he asked seriously.

She said nothing, but looked at him. Her eyes filled with tears.

“You ...” said the man. “What shall I call you? I do not know your name. I have always called you just ‘you.’ In all the bad days and worse nights, for I did not know if I should find you again, I always called you only, ‘you’.... Will you tell me, at last, what your name is?”

“You ...” said the man. “What should I call you? I don’t know your name. I’ve always called you just ‘you.’ Through all the bad days and even worse nights, I always called you only ‘you.’ I didn’t know if I would ever find you again.... Will you finally tell me your name?”

“Maria,” answered the girl.

“Maria,” the girl replied.

“Maria.... That should be your name ... you did not make it easy for me to find my way to you, Maria.”

“Maria.... That must be your name ... you didn't make it easy for me to find you, Maria.”

“And why did you seek your way to me? And why do you wear the blue linen uniform? Those condemned to wear it all their life long, live in an underground city, which is accounted a wonder of the world in all the five continents. It is an architectural wonder—that is true. It is light and shining bright and a model of tidiness. It lacks nothing but the sun—and the rain—and the moon by night—nothing but the sky. That is why the children which are born there have their gnome-like faces.... Do you want to go down into this city under the earth in order the more to enjoy your dwelling which lies so high above the great Metropolis, in the light of the sky? Are you wearing the uniform, which you have on to-day, for fun?”

“And why did you come to me? And why are you wearing the blue linen uniform? Those condemned to wear it all their lives live in an underground city. On all five continents, the city is considered a wonder of the world. It is an architectural wonder, that is true. It is bright and shining and a model of tidiness. It lacks nothing but the sun, the rain, and the moon at night. Nothing but the sky. That is why the children born there have gnome-like faces.... Do you want to go down into this underground city so you can enjoy your home even more? Your home lies high above the great Metropolis, in the light of the sky. Are you wearing that uniform today for fun?”

“No, Maria. I shall always wear it now.”

“No, Maria. I’ll always wear it now.”

“As Joh Fredersen’s son?”

“He no longer has a son ... unless—you, yourself, give him back his son.”

“He no longer has a son ... unless you give him back his son yourself.”

Behind them, in a vault that was shaped like a pointed devil’s-ear, one man’s hand was laid upon another man’s mouth.

Behind them, in a vault shaped like a pointed devil’s ear, one man’s hand rested on another man’s mouth.

“It is written,” whispered a laugh: “Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother and cleave unto his wife....”

“It is written,” whispered a laugh: “So a man shall leave his father and mother and join with his wife....”

“Won’t you understand me?” asked Freder. “Why do you look at me with such stern eyes? You wish me to be a mediator between Joh Fredersen and those whom you call your brothers.... There can be no mediator between heaven and hell who never was in heaven and hell.... I never knew hell until yesterday. That is why I failed so deplorably, yesterday, when I spoke to my father for your brothers. Until you stood before me for the first time, Maria, I lived the life of a dearly loved son. I did not know what an unrealisable wish was. I knew no longing, for everything was mine.... Young as I am, I have exhausted the pleasures of the earth, down to the very bottom. I had an aim—a gamble with Death: A flight to the stars.... And then you came and showed me my brothers.... From that day on I have sought you. I have so longed for you that I should gladly and unhesitatingly have died, had somebody told me that that was the way to you. But as it was, I had to live and seek another way....”

“Won’t you understand me?” Freder asked. “Why do you look at me so sternly? You want me to mediate between Joh Fredersen and the people you call your brothers.... But no one can mediate between heaven and hell without having been to both.... I never knew hell until yesterday. That is why I failed so badly yesterday, when I spoke to my father for your brothers. Until you first stood before me, Maria, I lived as a dearly loved son. I had never wanted anything I could not have. I knew no longing, because everything was mine.... Young as I am, I have enjoyed every pleasure the earth has to offer. I had one goal, a gamble with Death: a flight to the stars.... And then you came and showed me my brothers.... I have searched for you ever since. I have longed for you so much that I would gladly have died if someone had told me death would lead me to you. I would not have hesitated. But instead, I had to live and find another way....”

“To me, or to your brothers...?”

“To you, Maria.... I will not make myself out to you to be better than I am. I want to come to you, Maria—and I want you.... I love mankind, not for its own sake, but for your sake—because you love it. I do not want to help mankind for its own sake, but for your sake—because you wish it. Yesterday I did good to two men; I helped one whom my father had dismissed. And I did the work of the man, whose uniform I have on.... That was my way to you.... God bless you....”

“To you, Maria.... I will not pretend to be better than I am. I want to come to you, Maria, and I want you.... I love mankind not for its own sake, but for yours, because you love it. I do not want to help mankind for its own sake, but for yours, because you want me to. Yesterday I did good for two men. I helped one whom my father had fired. And I did the work of the man whose uniform I am wearing.... That was my way to you.... God bless you....”

His voice failed him. The girl stepped up to him. She took his hands in both her hands. She gently turned the palms upward, and considered them, looked at them with her Madonna-eyes, and folded her hands tenderly around his, which she carefully laid together.

His voice failed him. The girl stepped up to him and took his hands in hers. She gently turned his palms upward and studied them with her Madonna eyes. She carefully placed his hands together and tenderly folded hers around them.

“Maria,” he said, without a sound.

“Maria,” he said silently.

She let his hands fall and raised hers to his head. She laid her finger-tips on his cheeks. With her finger-tips she stroked his eyebrows, his temples, twice, three times.

She let go of his hands and raised hers to his head. She placed her fingertips on his cheeks. She stroked his eyebrows and temples with her fingertips, twice, three times.

Then he snatched her to his heart and they kissed each other....

Then he pulled her close and they kissed....

He no longer felt the stones under his feet. A wave carried him, him and the girl whom he held clasped to him as though he wished to die of it—and the wave came from the bottom of the ocean, roaring as though the whole sea were an organ; and the wave was of fire and flung right up to the heavens.

He no longer felt the stones beneath his feet. A wave carried him and the girl he held close, as if he wanted to die from holding her. The wave rose from the ocean floor, roaring as if the whole sea were an organ. It was a wave of fire, and it surged all the way to the heavens.

Then sinking ... sinking ... endlessly gliding down—right down to the womb of the world, the source of the beginning.... Thirst and quenching drink ... hunger and satiation ... pain and deliverance from it ... death and rebirth....

Then sinking ... sinking ... gliding endlessly down, all the way to the womb of the world, the source of the beginning.... Thirst and a drink to quench it ... hunger and satisfaction ... pain and relief from it ... death and rebirth....

“You ...” said the man to the girl’s lips. “You are really the great mediatress.... You are all that is most sacred on earth.... You are all goodness.... You are all grace.... To doubt you is to doubt God.... Maria—Maria—you called me—here I am!”

“You ...” the man said to the girl’s lips. “You really are the great mediator.... You are all that is most sacred on earth.... You are all goodness.... You are all grace.... To doubt you is to doubt God.... Maria, Maria, you called me. Here I am!”

Behind them, in a vault that was shaped like a pointed devil’s-ear, one man leant towards another man’s ear.

Behind them, in a vault shaped like a devil’s pointed ear, one man leaned toward another man’s ear.

“You wanted to have the Futura’s face from me.... There you have your model....”

“You wanted me to give Futura a face.... There is your model....”

“Is that a commission?”

“Yes.”

“Now you must go, Freder,” said the girl. Her Madonna-eyes looked at him.

“Now you must go, Freder,” said the girl. Her Madonna-like eyes looked at him.

“Go—and leave you here?”

“Go and leave you here?”

She turned grave and shook her head.

She grew serious and shook her head.

“Nothing will happen to me,” she said. “There is not one, among those who know this place, whom I cannot trust as though he were my blood brother. But what is between us is nobody’s affair; it would vex me to have to explain—” (and now she was smiling again)—“what is inexplicable.... Do you see that?”

“Nothing will happen to me,” she said. “I trust everyone who knows this place as if he were my own brother. But what is between us is nobody else’s business. It would annoy me to have to explain...” She was smiling again. “What can’t be explained. Do you see that?”

“Yes,” he said. “Forgive me....”

Behind them, in a vault that was shaped like a pointed devil’s-ear, a man took himself away from the wall.

Behind them, a man stepped away from the wall of a vault shaped like a pointed devil’s ear.

“You know what you have to do,” he said in a low voice.

“You know what you have to do,” he said quietly.

“Yes,” came the voice of the other, idly, sleepily, out of the darkness. “But wait a bit, friend.... I must ask you something....”

“Yes,” the other replied from the darkness, his voice lazy and sleepy. “But wait a bit, friend.... I need to ask you something....”

“Well?”

“Have you forgotten your own creed?”

“Have you forgotten your own beliefs?”

For one second a lamp twinkled through the room, that was shaped like a pointed devil’s ear, impaling the face of the man, who had already turned to go, on the pointed needle of its brilliance.

For one second, a lamp flickered through the room, which was shaped like a devil’s pointed ear. Its sharp beam impaled the face of the man, who had already turned to leave.

“That sin and suffering are twin-sisters ... you will be sinning against two people, friend....”

“That sin and suffering are twin sisters ... you will be sinning against two people, friend....”

“What has that to do with you?”

“What does that have to do with you?”

“Nothing.... Or—little. Freder is Hel’s son....”

“Nothing.... Or very little. Freder is Hel’s son....”

“And mine....”

“Yes....”

“It is he whom I do not wish to lose.”

“He is the one I don’t want to lose.”

“Better to sin once more?”

“Better to sin one more time?”

“Yes.”

“And—”

“And...”

“To suffer. Yes.”

“Very well, friend,” and in the voice was an inaudible laugh of mockery: “May it happen to you according to your creed...!”

“All right, friend.” There was a silent, mocking laugh in the voice: “May it happen to you as you believe...!”

The girl walked through the passages that were so familiar to her. The bright little lamp in her hand roved over the roof of stone and over the stone walls, where, in niches, the thousand-year-old dead slept.

The girl walked through the passages she knew so well. The bright little lamp in her hand swept over the stone ceiling and walls. In niches in the walls, the thousand-year-old dead slept.

The girl had never known fear of the dead; only reverence and gravity in face of their gravity. To-day she saw neither wall nor dead. She walked on, smiling and not knowing she did it. She felt like singing. With an expression of happiness, which was still incredulous and yet complete, she said the name of her beloved over to herself.

The girl had never feared the dead. She had only felt reverence and solemnity in the face of their solemnity. Today she saw neither the wall nor the dead. She walked on, smiling without realizing it. She felt like singing. Her expression was happy, still disbelieving yet completely happy. She repeated her beloved's name to herself.

Quite softly: “Freder....” And once more: “Freder....”

Very softly: “Freder....” And again: “Freder....”

Then she raised her head, listening attentively, standing quite still....

Then she raised her head and listened carefully, standing completely still....

It came back as a whisper: An echo?—No.

It came back as a whisper. An echo? No.

Almost inaudibly a word was breathed:

A word was whispered, almost too softly to hear:

“Maria....”

She turned around, blissfully startled. Was it possible that he had come back?

She turned around, startled and delighted. Could he have come back?

“Freder—!” she called. She listened.

“Freder!” she called. She listened.

No answer.

“Freder—!”

“Freder!”

Nothing.

But suddenly there came a cool draught of air which made the hair at her neck quiver, and a hand of snow ran down her back.

But suddenly, a cool draft made the hair on her neck tremble, and a hand of snow ran down her back.

There came an agonized sigh—a sigh which would not come to an end....

An agonized sigh came, a sigh that would not end....

The girl stood still. The bright little lamp which she held in her hand let its gleam play tremblingly about her feet.

The girl stood still. The small, bright lamp in her hand cast a trembling light around her feet.

“Freder...?”

Now her voice, too, was only a whisper.

Now her voice was only a whisper, too.

No answer. But, behind her, in the depths of the passage she would have to pass through, a gentle, gliding slink became perceptible: feet in soft shoes on rough stones....

No answer. But behind her, deep in the passage she would have to go through, she heard a soft, gliding shuffle: feet in soft shoes on rough stones....

That was ... yes, that was strange. Nobody, apart from her, ever came this way. Nobody could be here. And, if somebody were here, then it was no friend....

That was ... yes, that was strange. No one but her ever came this way. No one could be here. And if someone was here, they were no friend....

Certainly nobody whom she wanted to meet.

Certainly no one she wanted to meet.

Should she let him by?—yes.

Should she let him pass? Yes.

A second passage opened to her left. She did not know it well. But she would not follow it up. She would only wait in it until the man outside—the man behind her—had gone by.

A second passage opened to her left. She did not know it well. But she would not go down it. She would only wait there until the man outside, the man behind her, had passed by.

She pressed herself against the wall of the strange passage, keeping still and waiting quite silently. She did not breathe. She had extinguished the lamp. She stood in utter darkness, immovable.

She pressed herself against the wall of the strange passage. She waited, perfectly still and silent. She did not breathe. She had put out the lamp. She stood motionless in complete darkness.

She listened: the gliding feet were approaching. They walked in darkness as she stood in darkness. Now they were here. Now they must ... they must go past.... But they did not go. They stood quite still. Before the opening to the passage in which she stood, the feet stopped still and seemed to wait.

She listened. The gliding footsteps were coming closer. They walked in darkness, just as she stood in darkness. Now they were here. Now they must ... they must go past.... But they did not go. They stood completely still. The feet stopped at the entrance to the passage where she stood and seemed to wait.

For what...? For her...?

In the complete silence the girl suddenly heard her own heart.... She heard her own heart, like pump-works, beating more and more quickly, throbbing more and more loudly. These loud throbbing heartbeats must also be heard by the man who kept the opening to the passage. And suppose he did not stay there any longer ... suppose he came inside ... she could not hear his coming, her heart throbbed so.

In the complete silence, the girl suddenly heard her own heart.... It beat like a pump, faster and faster, throbbing louder and louder. The man guarding the entrance to the passage must hear those loud heartbeats too. And what if he did not stay there ... what if he came inside ... her heart was throbbing so loudly that she could not hear him coming.

She groped, with fumbling hand, along the stone wall. Without breathing, she set her feet, one before the other.... Only to get away from the entrance.... Away from the place where the other was standing....

She fumbled along the stone wall with her hand. Holding her breath, she put one foot in front of the other.... She just wanted to get away from the entrance.... Away from where the other was standing....

Was she wrong? Or were the feet really coming after her? Soft, slinking shoes on rough stones? Now the agonised, heavy breathing, heavier still, and nearer ... cold breath on her neck.... Then—

Was she mistaken? Or were footsteps really following her? Soft shoes creeping over rough stones? Now the strained, heavy breathing grew heavier and closer ... cold breath on her neck.... Then...

Nothing more. Silence. And waiting. And watching—keeping on the look-out....

Nothing more. Silence. And waiting. And watching, staying alert....

Was it not as if a creature, such as the world had never seen: trunkless, nothing but arms, legs and head ... but what a head! God—God in heaven! ... was crouching on the floor before her, knees drawn up to chin, the damp arms supported right and left, against the walls, near her hips, so that she stood defenceless, caught? Did she not see the passage lighted by a pale shimmer—and did not the shimmer come from the being’s jelly-fish head?

Was it not as if a creature unlike any the world had ever seen was crouching on the floor before her? It had no trunk, only arms, legs and a head ... but what a head! God, God in heaven! ... Its knees were drawn up to its chin. Its damp arms braced against the walls on either side, near her hips, leaving her trapped and defenseless. Did she not see a pale glow lighting the passage? And did the glow not come from the creature’s jellyfish head?

“Freder!” she thought. She bit the name tightly between her jaws, yet heard the scream with which her heart screamed it.

“Freder!” she thought. She clenched her jaws around the name, yet heard her heart scream it.

She threw herself forwards and felt—she was free—she was still free—and ran and stumbled, and pulled herself up again and staggered from wall to wall, knocking herself bloody, suddenly clutched into space, stumbled, fell to the ground, felt.... Something lay there ... what? No—No—No—!

She threw herself forward and felt that she was free. She was still free. She ran and stumbled, pulled herself up again, and staggered from wall to wall, battering herself until she bled. Suddenly she grabbed at empty air, stumbled, and fell to the ground. She felt.... Something was lying there ... what? No, no, no!

The lamp had long since fallen from her hand. She raised herself to her knees and clapped her fists to her ears, in order not to hear the feet, the slinking feet coming nearer. She knew herself to be imprisoned in darkness and yet opened her eyes because she could no longer bear the circles of fire, the wheels of flame behind her closed lids—

The lamp had fallen from her hand long ago. She got to her knees and pressed her fists against her ears. She did not want to hear the feet, the slinking feet coming closer. She knew she was trapped in darkness. Yet she opened her eyes because she could no longer bear the circles of fire, the wheels of flame behind her closed eyelids.

And saw her own shadow thrown, gigantic, on the wall before her, and behind her was light, and before her lay a man—

And she saw her own shadow, huge on the wall before her. There was light behind her, and a man lay before her.

A man?—That was not a man.... That was the remains of a man, with his back half leaning against the wall, half slipped down, and on his skeleton feet, which almost touched the girl’s knees, were the slender shoes, pointed and purple-red....

A man? That was not a man.... It was the remains of a man, slumped against the wall. His skeletal feet almost touched the girl’s knees. On them were slender, pointed, purple-red shoes....

With a shriek which tore her throat, the girl threw herself up, backwards—and then on and on, without looking round, pursued by the light which lashed her own shadow in springs before her feet—pursued by long, soft, feathery feet—by feet which walked in red shoes, by the icy breath which blew at her back.

With a scream that tore at her throat, the girl threw herself up and backward. Then she ran on and on without looking back. The light chased her, whipping her shadow forward in leaps before her feet. Long, soft, feathery feet chased her too, feet wearing red shoes. Icy breath blew against her back.

She ran, screamed and ran—

She ran, screamed, and kept running.

“Freder...! Freder...!”

Her throat rattled, she fell.

Her throat rattled. She fell.

There were some stairs.... Crumbling stairs.... She pressed her bleeding hands, right and left, against the stone wall, by the stone steps. She dragged herself up. She staggered up, step by step.... There was the top.

There were stairs.... Crumbling stairs.... She pressed her bleeding hands against the stone walls on either side of the steps. She dragged herself up. She staggered up, step by step.... There was the top.

The stairs ended in a stone trap-door.

The stairs ended at a stone trapdoor.

The girl groaned: “Freder...!”

She stretched both fists above her. She pushed head and shoulders against the trap-door.

She raised both fists above her. She pushed her head and shoulders against the trapdoor.

And one more groan: “Freder....”

The door rose and fell back with a crash.

Below—deep down—laughter....

Far below, laughter....

The girl swung herself over the edge of the trap-door. She ran hither and thither, with outstretched hands. She ran along walls, finding no door. She saw the lustre which welled up from the depths. By this light she saw a door, which was latchless. It had neither bolt nor lock.

The girl swung herself over the edge of the trapdoor. She ran back and forth with her hands outstretched. She ran along the walls but found no door. She saw a glow rising from the depths. By its light, she saw a door with no latch. It had no bolt or lock either.

In the gloomy wood glowed, copper-red, the seal of Solomon, the pentagram.

In the gloomy wood, the seal of Solomon, the pentagram, glowed copper-red.

The girl turned around.

She saw a man sitting on the edge of the trap-door and saw his smile.

She saw a man sitting on the edge of the trapdoor. She saw him smile.

Then it was as though she were extinguished, and she plunged into nothing....

Then it was as if she had been snuffed out, and she plunged into nothing....