XIV
A vault, like the vault of a sepulchreвБ†вАФhuman heads so closely crowded as to produce the effect of clods of a freshly ploughed field. All faces turned to one point: to the source of a light, as mild as God. Candles burnt with sword-like flames. Slender, lustrous swords of light stood in a circle around the head of a girl.
Freder stood pressed into the background of the archвБ†вАФso far from the girl that he perceived of her face nothing but the shimmer of its pallor, the wonder of the eyes and the bloodred mouth. His eyes hung upon this bloodred mouth as though it were the middle point of the earth, to which, by eternal law, his blood must pour down. Tantalising was this mouthвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ All the seven Deadly Sins had such a mouthвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ The woman on the scarlet-coloured beast, who bore the name Babylon on her forehead, had such a mouthвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶
He pressed both hands to his eyes in order no longer to see this mouth of deadly sin.
Now he heard more clearlyвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Yes, that was her voice, the voice which sounded as though God could refuse it nothingвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Was that really it? The voice came from out the bloodred mouth. It was like a flame, hot and pointed. It was full of a wicked sweetnessвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶
The voice said: вАЬMy brothersвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ
But no peace proceeded from out these words. Little red snakes hissed through the air. The air was hotвБ†вАФan agony to breathe..
Groaning heavily, Freder opened his eyes.
Dark, angry waves were the heads before him. These waves frothed, raged and roared. Here and there a hand shot up into the air. Words sprang up, foam flecks of the surf. But the voice of the girl was like a tongue of fire, drawing, enticing, burning above the heads.
вАЬWhich is more pleasant: water or wine?вАЭ
вАЬвА¶¬†Wine is more pleasant!вАЭ
вАЬWho drinks the water?вАЭ
вАЬвА¶¬†We!вАЭ
вАЬWho drinks the wine?вАЭ
вАЬвА¶¬†The masters! The masters of the machines!вАЭ
вАЬWhich is more pleasant: meat or dry bread?вАЭ
вАЬвА¶¬†Meat is more pleasant!вАЭ
вАЬWho eats the dry bread?вАЭ
вАЬвА¶¬†We!вАЭ
вАЬWho eats the meat?вАЭ
вАЬвА¶¬†The masters! The masters of the machines!вАЭ
вАЬWhich is more pleasant to wear: blue linen or white silk?вАЭ
вАЬвА¶¬†White silk is more pleasant to wear!вАЭ
вАЬWho wears the blue linen?вАЭ
вАЬвА¶¬†We!вАЭ
вАЬWho wears the white silk?вАЭ
вАЬвА¶¬†The masters! The sons of the masters!вАЭ
вАЬWhere is it more pleasant to live: upon or under the earth?вАЭ
вАЬвА¶¬†It is more pleasant to live upon the earth!вАЭ
вАЬWho lives under the earth?вАЭ
вАЬвА¶¬†We!вАЭ
вАЬWho lives upon the earth?вАЭ
вАЬвА¶¬†The masters! The masters of the machines!вАЭ
вАЬWhere are your wives?вАЭ
вАЬвА¶¬†In misery!вАЭ
вАЬWhere are your children?вАЭ
вАЬвА¶¬†In misery!вАЭ
вАЬWhat do your wives do?вАЭ
вАЬвА¶¬†They starve!вАЭ
вАЬWhat do your children do?вАЭ
вАЬвА¶¬†They cry!вАЭ
вАЬWhat do the wives of the masters of the machines do?вАЭ
вАЬвА¶¬†They feast!вАЭ
вАЬWhat do the children of the masters of the machines do?вАЭ
вАЬвА¶¬†They play!вАЭ
вАЬWho are the providers?вАЭ
вАЬвА¶¬†We!вАЭ
вАЬWho are the squanderers?вАЭ
вАЬвА¶¬†The masters! The masters of the machines!вАЭ
вАЬWhat are you?вАЭ
вАЬвА¶¬†Slaves!вАЭ
вАЬNo!вБ†вАФwhat are you?вАЭ
вАЬвА¶¬†Dogs!вАЭ
вАЬNo!вБ†вАФwhat are you?вАЭ
вАЬвА¶¬†Tell us!вБ†вАФtell us!вАЭ
вАЬYou are fools! Blockheads! Blockheads! Throughout your morning, your midday, your evening, your night, the machine howls for food, for food, for foodвБ†вАФ! You are the food! You are the living food!вБ†вАФThe machine devours you like fodder and then spews you up again! Why do you batten the machines with your bodies?вБ†вАФWhy do you oil the joints of the machines with your brains?вБ†вАФWhy do you not let the machines starve, you fools?вБ†вАФWhy do you not let them perish, blockheadsвБ†вАФ? Why do you feed themвБ†вАФ! The more you feed them the more they greed for your flesh, for your bones, for your brains. You are ten thousand! You are a hundred thousand! Why do you not throw yourselvesвБ†вАФa hundred thousand murdering fistsвБ†вАФupon the machines and strike them deadвБ†вАФ? You are the masters of the machinesвБ†вАФyou! Not the others who walk in their white silkвБ†вАФ! Turn the world aboutвБ†вАФ! Stand the world on its headвБ†вАФ! Murder the living and the deadвБ†вАФ! Take the inheritance from living and deadвБ†вАФ! You have waited long enoughвБ†вАФ! The hour has come!вАЭ
A voice shouted from among the multitude:
вАЬLead us on, MariaвБ†вАФ!вАЭ
A mighty waveвБ†вАФall the heads broke forward. The bloodred mouth of the girl laughed and flamed. The eyes above it flamed, huge and greenish black. She raised her arms with an unspeakably difficult, burden-raising, sweet, mad gesture. The slim body grew and stretched itself up. The girlвАЩs hands touched above her hair-parting. Over her shoulders, her breasts, her hips, her knees, there ran an incessant, a barely perceptible trembling. It was as though the girl were carried higher and higher by this trembling, though she did not move her feet.
She said: вАЬComeвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАК! ComeвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАК! I will lead youвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАК! I will dance the dance of Death before youвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАК! I will dance the dance of the Murderers before youвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАК!вАЭ
The multitude moaned. The multitude gasped. The multitude stretched out its hands. The multitude bowed head and neck low, as though its shoulders, its backs, should be a carpet for the girl. The multitude fell on its knees with a groan, one single beast felled with the hatchet. The girl raised her foot and stepped upon the neck of the outstretched beastвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶
A voice shouted out, sobbing with rage and pain:
вАЬYou are not MariaвБ†вАФ!вАЭ
The multitude turned around. The multitude saw a man standing in the background of the arch, a man, from whose shoulders the coat had fallen. Under the coat he wore the white silk. The man was more ghastly to see than one who has bled to death. He stretched out his hand and pointed to the girl. He yelled out:
вАЬYou are not Maria!! NoвБ†вАФ!! You are not MariaвБ†вАФ!!вАЭ
The heads of the multitude stared at the man who was a stranger among them, who wore the white silkвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶
вАЬYou are not MariaвБ†вАФ!вАЭ he yelled. вАЬMaria preaches peaceвБ†вАФand not murderвБ†вАФ!вАЭ
The eyes of the multitude began to glare dangerously.
The girl stood bolt upright in the neck of the multitude. She began to totter. It seemed as though she would fallвБ†вАФfall over on to her white face in which the bloodred mouthвБ†вАФthe mouth of deadly sin, flamed like hellfire.
But she did not fall. She held herself upright. She swayed slightly, but she held herself upright. She stretched out her arm and pointed at Freder, calling in a voice which sounded like glass:
вАЬLookвБ†вАФ! LookвБ†вАФ! The son of Joh FredersenвБ†вАФ! The son of Joh Fredersen is among youвБ†вАФ!вАЭ
The multitude shouted. The multitude hurled itself around. The multitude made to lay hold of the son of Joh Fredersen.
He did not resist. He stood pressed against the wall. He stared at the girl with a gaze in which belief in eternal damnation was to be read. It seemed as if he were already dead, and as though his lifeless body were falling, ghostlike upon the fists of those who wished to murder him.
A voice roared:
вАЬDog in white silken skinвБ†вАФ!!вАЭ
An arm shot up, a knife flashed outвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶
Upon the billowing neck of the multitude stood the girl. It was as if the knife came flying from out her eyesвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶
But, before the knife could plunge into the white silk which covered the heart of the son of Joh Fredersen, a man threw himself as a shield before his breast, and the knife ripped open blue linen. Blue linen was dyed purple-redвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶
вАЬBrothersвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАК!вАЭ said the man. Dying, yet standing upright, he was covering the son of Joh Fredersen with his whole body. He turned his head a little to catch FrederвАЩs glance. He said with a smile which was transfigured in pain:
вАЬBrothersвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ
Freder recognised him. It was Georgi. It was number eleven thousand eight hundred and eleven which was now going out, and which, going out, was protecting him.
He wanted to push past Georgi. But the dying man stood like one crucified, with outstretched arms and hands clawing into the edge of the niches which were behind him. He held his eyes, which were like jewels, fixedly set on the multitude which was storming towards him.
вАЬBrothersвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ he said.
вАЬHe said: вАШMurderersвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Brother murderersвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЩвАКвАЭ said the dying mouth.
The multitude left him alone and raced on. On the shoulders of the multitude the girl was dancing and singing. She sang with her bloodred mouth of deadly sin!
вАЬWeвАЩve passed sentence upon the machines!
We have condemned the machines to death!
The machines must dieвБ†вАФto hell with them!
Death!вБ†вАФDeath!вБ†вАФDeath to the machinesвБ†вАФ!вАЭ
Like the rush of a thousand wings the step of the multitude thundered through the narrow passages of the City of the Dead. The girlвАЩs voice died away. The steps died away. Georgi loosened his hands and pitched forward.
Freder caught him. He sank upon his knee. GeorgiвАЩs head fell upon his breast.
вАЬWarnвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ warnвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ the townвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ said Georgi.
вАЬAnd are you dyingвБ†вАФ?вАЭ gave Freder as answer. His bewildered eyes ran along the walls in the niches of which slept the thousand-year-old dead. вАЬThere is no justice in this world!вАЭ
вАЬUttermost justiceвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ said eleven thousand eight hundred and eleven. вАЬFrom weaknessвБ†вАФsinвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ From sinвБ†вАФatonementвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Warn the town!вБ†вАФWarnвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАК!вАЭ
вАЬIвАЩm going to leave you aloneвБ†вАФ!вАЭ
вАЬI beg you toвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ beg youвБ†вАФ!вАЭ
Freder got up, despair in his eyes. He ran to the passage, in which the multitude had died away.
вАЬNot that wayвБ†вАФ!вАЭ said Georgi. вАЬYou wonвАЩt get through that way any moreвБ†вАФ!вАЭ
вАЬI know no other wayвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ
вАЬIвАЩll take youвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ
вАЬYou are dying, Georgi! The first step is your deathвБ†вАФ!вАЭ
вАЬWonвАЩt you warn the town? Do you want to be an accessory?вАЭ
вАЬCome!вАЭ said Freder.
He raised Georgi up. With his hand pressed to his wound, the man began to run.
вАЬPick up your lamp and come!вАЭ said Georgi. He ran so that Freder could hardly follow him. Into the ten-thousand-year-old dust dripped the blood which welled up from the freshly inflicted wound. He held FrederвАЩs arm clasped, pulling him forwards.
вАЬHurry!вАЭ he murmured. вАЬHurryвБ†вАФthereвАЩs not time to lose!вАЭ
PassagesвБ†вАФcrossingsвБ†вАФpassagesвБ†вАФstepsвБ†вАФpassagesвБ†вАФa flight of stairs which led steeply upwardвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Georgi fell at the first step. Freder wanted to hold him. He pushed him away.
вАЬHurry!вАЭ he said. He indicated the stairs with his head. вАЬUpвБ†вАФ! You canвАЩt go wrong nowвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ hurry upвБ†вАФ!вАЭ
вАЬAnd you, Georgi?вБ†вАФand youвБ†вАФ?вАЭ
вАЬIвБ†вАФвАЭ said Georgi, turning his head to the wallвБ†вАФвАЬI am not going to answer any more questionsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ
Freder let go of GeorgiвАЩs hand. He began to run up the stairs. Night embraced himвБ†вАФthe night of MetropolisвБ†вАФthis light-mad, drunken night.
Everything was still the same as usual. Nothing indicated the storm which was to break out from inside the earth, under Metropolis, to murder the machine-city.
But it seemed to Joh FredersenвАЩs son as if the stones were giving way under his feetвБ†вАФas though he heard in the air the rushing of wingsвБ†вАФthe rushing of the wings of strange monsters: beings with womenвАЩs bodies and snakesвАЩ headsвБ†вАФbeings, half bull, half angelвБ†вАФdevils adorned with crownsвБ†вАФhuman faced lionsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶
It seemed to him as if he saw death sitting on the New Tower of Babel, in hat and wide cloak, whetting his propped up scythe..
He reached the New Tower of Babel. Everything was as usual. The Dawn was fighting the first fight with the Early Morning. He looked for his father. He did not find him. Nobody could say where Joh Fredersen had gone at midnight.
The brainpan of the New Tower of Babel was empty.
Freder wiped from his brow the sweat which was running in drops over his temples.
вАЬI must find my fatherвБ†вАФ!вАЭ he said. вАЬI must call himвБ†вАФcost what it may!вАЭ
Men, with servants eyes looked at him. Men who knew nothing apart from blind obedienceвБ†вАФwho could not advise, still less helpвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶
Joh FredersenвАЩs son stepped into his fatherвАЩs place, at the table where his great father used to sit. He was as white as the silk which he wore as he stretched out his hand and pressed his fingers on the little blue metal place, which no man ever touched apart from Joh Fredersen.
вА¶ Then the great Metropolis began to roar. Then she raised her voiceвБ†вАФher Behemoth-voice. But she was not screaming for foodвБ†вАФno, she was roaring:
DangerвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАК!
Above the gigantic city, above the slumbering city, the monster-voice roared: DangerвБ†вАФ! DangerвБ†вАФ!
A barely perceptible trembling ran through the New Tower of Babel, as if the earth which bore it were shuddering, frightened by a dream, betwixt sleeping and wakingвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶