THE TRIAL
CHAPTER VIII
Block, the businessman
Dismissing the lawyer
K. had at last made the decision to withdraw his defence from
the lawyer. It was impossible to remove his doubts as to whether
this was the right decision, but this was outweighed by his belief
in its necessity. This decision, on the day he intended to go to
see the lawyer, took a lot of the strength he needed for his work,
he worked exceptionally slowly, he had to remain in his office a
long time, and it was already past ten o’clock when he
finally stood in front of the lawyer’s front door. Even
before he rang he considered whether it might not be better to give
the lawyer notice by letter or telephone, a personal conversation
would certainly be very difficult. Nonetheless, K. did not actually
want to do without it, if he gave notice by any other means it
would be received in silence or with a few formulated words, and
unless Leni could discover anything K. would never learn how the
lawyer had taken his dismissal and what its consequences might be,
in the lawyer’s not unimportant opinion. But sitting in front
of him and taken by surprise by his dismissal, K. would be able
easily to infer everything he wanted from the lawyer’s face
and behaviour, even if he could not be induced to say very much. It
was not even out of the question that K. might, after all, be
persuaded that it would be best to leave his defence to the lawyer
and withdraw his dismissal.
As usual, there was at first no response to K.’s ring at
the door. “Leni could be a bit quicker,” thought K. But
he could at least be glad there was nobody else interfering as
usually happened, be it the man in his nightshirt or anyone else
who might bother him. As K. pressed on the button for the second
time he looked back at the other door, but this time it, too,
remained closed. At last, two eyes appeared at the spy-hatch in the
lawyer’s door, although they weren’t Leni’s eyes.
Someone unlocked the door, but kept himself pressed against it as
he called back inside, “It’s him!”, and only then
did he open the door properly. K. pushed against the door, as
behind him he could already hear the key being hurriedly turned in
the lock of the door to the other flat. When the door in front of
him finally opened, he stormed straight into the hallway. Through
the corridor which led between the rooms he saw Leni, to whom the
warning cry of the door opener had been directed, still running
away in her nightshirt . He looked at her for a moment and then
looked round at the person who had opened the door. It was a small,
wizened man with a full beard, he held a candle in his hand.
“Do you work here?” asked K. “No,” answered
the man, “I don’t belong here at all, the lawyer is
only representing me, I’m here on legal business.”
“Without your coat?” asked K., indicating the
man’s deficiency of dress with a gesture of his hand.
“Oh, do forgive me!” said the man, and he looked at
himself in the light of the candle he was holding as if he had not
known about his appearance until then. “Is Leni your
lover?” asked K. curtly. He had set his legs slightly apart,
his hands, in which he held his hat, were behind his back. Merely
by being in possession of a thick overcoat he felt his advantage
over this thin little man. “Oh God,” he said and,
shocked, raised one hand in front of his face as if in defence,
“no, no, what can you be thinking?” “You look
honest enough,” said K. with a smile, “but come along
anyway.” K. indicated with his hat which way the man was to
go and let him go ahead of him. “What is your name
then?” asked K. on the way. “Block. I’m a
businessman,” said the small man, twisting himself round as
he thus introduced himself, although K. did not allow him to stop
moving. “Is that your real name?” asked K. “Of
course it is,” was the man’s reply, “why do you
doubt it?” “I thought you might have some reason to
keep your name secret,” said K. He felt himself as much at
liberty as is normally only felt in foreign parts when speaking
with people of lower standing, keeping everything about himself to
himself, speaking only casually about the interests of the other,
able to raise him to a level above one’s own, but also able,
at will, to let him drop again. K. stopped at the door of the
lawyer’s office, opened it and, to the businessman who had
obediently gone ahead, called, “Not so fast! Bring some light
here!” K. thought Leni might have hidden in here, he let the
businessman search in every corner, but the room was empty. In
front of the picture of the judge K. took hold of the
businessman’s braces to stop him moving on. “Do you
know him?” he asked, pointing upwards with his finger. The
businessman lifted the candle, blinked as he looked up and said,
“It’s a judge.” “An important judge?”
asked K., and stood to the side and in front of the businessman so
that he could observe what impression the picture had on him. The
businessman was looking up in admiration. “He’s an
important judge.” “You don’t have much
insight,” said K. “He is the lowest of the lowest
examining judges.” “I remember now,” said the
businessman as he lowered the candle, “that’s what
I’ve already been told.” “Well of course you
have,” called out K., “I’d forgotten about it, of
course you would already have been told.” “But why,
why?” asked the businessman as he moved forwards towards the
door, propelled by the hands of K. Outside in the corridor K. said,
“You know where Leni’s hidden, do you?”
“Hidden?” said the businessman, “No, but she
might be in the kitchen cooking soup for the lawyer.”
“Why didn’t you say that immediately?” asked K.
“I was going to take you there, but you called me back
again,” answered the businessman, as if confused by the
contradictory commands. “You think you’re very clever,
don’t you,” said K, “now take me there!” K.
had never been in the kitchen, it was surprisingly big and very
well equipped. The stove alone was three times bigger than normal
stoves, but it was not possible to see any detail beyond this as
the kitchen was at the time illuminated by no more than a small
lamp hanging by the entrance. At the stove stood Leni, in a white
apron as always, breaking eggs into a pot standing on a spirit
lamp. “Good evening, Josef,” she said with a glance
sideways. “Good evening,” said K., pointing with one
hand to a chair in a corner which the businessman was to sit on,
and he did indeed sit down on it. K. however went very close behind
Leni’s back, leant over her shoulder and asked, “Who is
this man?” Leni put one hand around K. as she stirred the
soup with the other, she drew him forward toward herself and said,
“He’s a pitiful character, a poor businessman by the
name of Block. Just look at him.” The two of them looked back
over their shoulders. The businessman was sitting on the chair that
K. had directed him to, he had extinguished the candle whose light
was no longer needed and pressed on the wick with his fingers to
stop the smoke. “You were in your nightshirt,” said K.,
putting his hand on her head and turning it back towards the stove.
She was silent. “Is he your lover?” asked K. She was
about to take hold of the pot of soup, but K. took both her hands
and said, “Answer me!” She said, “Come into the
office, I’ll explain everything to you.”
“No,” said K., “I want you to explain it
here.” She put her arms around him and wanted to kiss him.
K., though, pushed her away and said, “I don’t want you
to kiss me now.” “Josef,” said Leni, looking at
K. imploringly but frankly in the eyes, “you’re not
going to be jealous of Mr. Block now, are you? Rudi,” she
then said, turning to the businessman, “help me out will you,
I’m being suspected of something, you can see that, leave the
candle alone.” It had looked as though Mr. Block had not been
paying attention but he had been following closely. “I
don’t even know why you might be jealous,” he said
ingenuously. “Nor do I, actually,” said K., looking at
the businessman with a smile. Leni laughed out loud and while K.
was not paying attention took the opportunity of embracing him and
whispering, “Leave him alone, now, you can see what sort of
person he is. I’ve been helping him a little bit because
he’s an important client of the lawyer’s, and no other
reason. And what about you? Do you want to speak to the lawyer at
this time of day? He’s very unwell today, but if you want
I’ll tell him you’re here. But you can certainly spend
the night with me. It’s so long since you were last here,
even the lawyer has been asking about you. Don’t neglect your
case! And I’ve got some things to tell you that I’ve
learned about. But now, before anything else, take your coat
off!” She helped him off with his coat, took the hat off his
head, ran with the things into the hallway to hang them up, then
she ran back and saw to the soup. “Do you want me to tell him
you’re here straight away or take him his soup first?”
“Tell him I’m here first,” said K. He was in a
bad mood, he had originally intended a detailed discussion of his
business with Leni, especially the question of his giving the
lawyer notice, but now he no longer wanted to because of the
presence of the businessman. Now he considered his affair too
important to let this little businessman take part in it and
perhaps change some of his decisions, and so he called Leni back
even though she was already on her way to the lawyer. “Bring
him his soup first,” he said, “I want him to get his
strength up for the discussion with me, he’ll need it.”
“You’re a client of the lawyer’s too,
aren’t you,” said the businessman quietly from his
corner as if he were trying to find this out. It was not, however,
taken well. “What business is that of yours?” said K.,
and Leni said, “Will you be quiet. — I’ll take
him his soup first then, shall I?” And she poured the soup
into a dish. “The only worry then is that he might go to
sleep soon after he’s eaten.” “What I’ve
got to say to him will keep him awake,” said K., who still
wanted to intimate that he intended some important negotiations
with the lawyer, he wanted Leni to ask him what it was and only
then to ask her advice. But instead, she just promptly carried out
the order he had given her. When she went over to him with the dish
she deliberately brushed against him and whispered,
“I’ll tell him you’re here as soon as he’s
eaten the soup so that I can get you back as soon as
possible.” “Just go,” said K., “just
go.” “Be a bit more friendly,” she said and,
still holding the dish, turned completely round once more in the
doorway.
K. watched her as she went; the decision had finally been made
that the lawyer was to be dismissed, it was probably better that he
had not been able to discuss the matter any more with Leni
beforehand; she hardly understood the complexity of the matter, she
would certainly have advised him against it and perhaps would even
have prevented him from dismissing the lawyer this time, he would
have remained in doubt and unease and eventually have carried out
his decision after a while anyway as this decision was something he
could not avoid. The sooner it was carried out the more harm would
be avoided. And moreover, perhaps the businessman had something to
say on the matter.
K. turned round, the businessman hardly noticed it as he was
about to stand up. “Stay where you are,” said K. and
pulled up a chair beside him. “Have you been a client of the
lawyer’s for a long time?” asked K. “Yes,”
said the businessman, “a very long time.” “How
many years has he been representing you so far, then?” asked
K. “I don’t know how you mean,” said the
businessman, “he’s been my business lawyer — I
buy and sell cereals — he’s been my business lawyer
since I took the business over, and that’s about twenty years
now, but perhaps you mean my own trial and he’s been
representing me in that since it started, and that’s been
more than five years. Yes, well over five years,” he then
added, pulling out an old briefcase, “I’ve got
everything written down; I can tell you the exact dates if you
like. It’s so hard to remember everything. Probably, my
trial’s been going on much longer than that, it started soon
after the death of my wife, and that’s been more than five
and a half years now.” K. moved in closer to him. “So
the lawyer takes on ordinary legal business, does he?” he
asked. This combination of criminal and commercial business seemed
surprisingly reassuring for K. “Oh yes,” said the
businessman, and then he whispered, “They even say he’s
more efficient in jurisprudence than he is in other matters.”
But then he seemed to regret saying this, and he laid a hand on
K.’s shoulder and said, “Please don’t betray me
to him, will you.” K. patted his thigh to reassure him and
said, “No, I don’t betray people.” “He can
be so vindictive, you see,” said the businessman.
“I’m sure he won’t do anything against such a
faithful client as you,” said K. “Oh, he might
do,” said the businessman, “when he gets cross it
doesn’t matter who it is, and anyway, I’m not really
faithful to him.” “How’s that then?” asked
K. “I’m not sure I should tell you about it,”
said the businessman hesitantly. “I think it’ll be
alright,” said K. “Well then,” said the
businessman, “I’ll tell you about some of it, but
you’ll have to tell me a secret too, then we can support each
other with the lawyer.” “You are very careful,”
said K., “but I’ll tell you a secret that will set your
mind completely at ease. Now tell me, in what way have you been
unfaithful to the lawyer?” “I’ve ...” said
the businessman hesitantly, and in a tone as if he were confessing
something dishonourable, “I’ve taken on other lawyers
besides him.” “That’s not so serious,” said
K., a little disappointed. “It is, here,” said the
businessman, who had had some difficulty breathing since making his
confession but who now, after hearing K.’s comment, began to
feel more trust for him. “That’s not allowed. And
it’s allowed least of all to take on petty lawyers when
you’ve already got a proper one. And that’s just what I
have done, besides him I’ve got five petty lawyers.”
“Five!” exclaimed K., astonished at this number,
“Five lawyers besides this one?” The businessman
nodded. “I’m even negotiating with a sixth one.”
“But why do you need so many lawyers?” asked K.
“I need all of them,” said the businessman.
“Would you mind explaining that to me?” asked K.
“I’d be glad to,” said the businessman.
“Most of all, I don’t want to lose my case, well
that’s obvious. So that means I mustn’t neglect
anything that might be of use to me; even if there’s very
little hope of a particular thing being of any use I can’t
just throw it away. So everything I have I’ve put to use in
my case. I’ve taken all the money out of my business, for
example, the offices for my business used to occupy nearly a whole
floor, but now all I need is a little room at the back where I work
with one apprentice. It wasn’t just using up the money that
caused the difficulty, of course, it was much more to do with me
not working at the business as much as I used to. If you want to do
something about your trial you don’t have much time for
anything else.” “So you’re also working at the
court yourself?” asked K. “That’s just what I
want to learn more about.” “I can’t tell you very
much about that,” said the businessman, “at first I
tried to do that too but I soon had to give it up again. It wears
you out too much, and it’s really not much use. And it turned
out to be quite impossible to work there yourself and to negotiate,
at least for me it was. It’s a heavy strain there just
sitting and waiting. You know yourself what the air is like in
those offices.” “How do you know I’ve been there,
then?” asked K. “I was in the waiting room myself when
you went through.” “What a coincidence that is!”
exclaimed K., totally engrossed and forgetting how ridiculous the
businessman had seemed to him earlier. “So you saw me! You
were in the waiting room when I went through. Yes, I did go through
it one time.” “It isn’t such a big
coincidence,” said the businessman, “I’m there
nearly every day.” “I expect I’ll have to go
there quite often myself now,” said K., “although I can
hardly expect to be shown the same respect as I was then. They all
stood up for me. They must have thought I was a judge.”
“No,” said the businessman, “we were greeting the
servant of the court. We knew you were a defendant. That sort of
news spreads very quickly.” “So you already knew about
that,” said K., “the way I behaved must have seemed
very arrogant to you. Did you criticise me for it
afterwards?” “No,” said the businessman,
“quite the opposite. That was just stupidity.”
“What do you mean, ‘stupidity’?” asked K.
“Why are you asking about it?” said the businessman in
some irritation. “You still don’t seem to know the
people there and you might take it wrong. Don’t forget in
proceedings like this there are always lots of different things
coming up to talk about, things that you just can’t
understand with reason alone, you just get too tired and distracted
for most things and so, instead, people rely on superstition.
I’m talking about the others, but I’m no better myself.
One of these superstitions, for example, is that you can learn a
lot about the outcome of a defendant’s case by looking at his
face, especially the shape of his lips. There are lots who believe
that, and they said they could see from the shape of your lips that
you’d definitely be found guilty very soon. I repeat that all
this is just a ridiculous superstition, and in most cases
it’s completely disproved by the facts, but when you live in
that society it’s hard to hold yourself back from beliefs
like that. Just think how much effect that superstition can have.
You spoke to one of them there, didn’t you? He was hardly
able to give you an answer. There are lots of things there that can
make you confused, of course, but one of them, for him, was the
appearance of your lips. He told us all later he thought he could
see something in your lips that meant he’d be convicted
himself.” “On my lips?” asked K., pulling out a
pocket mirror and examining himself. “I can see nothing
special about my lips. Can you?” “Nor can I,”
said the businessman, “nothing at all.” “These
people are so superstitious!” exclaimed K. “Isn’t
that what I just told you?” asked the businessman. “Do
you then have that much contact with each other, exchanging each
other’s opinions?” said K. “I’ve kept
myself completely apart so far.” “They don’t
normally have much contact with each other,” said the
businessman, “that would be impossible, there are so many of
them. And they don’t have much in common either. If a group
of them ever thinks they have found something in common it soon
turns out they were mistaken. There’s nothing you can do as a
group where the court’s concerned. Each case is examined
separately, the court is very painstaking. So there’s nothing
to be achieved by forming into a group, only sometimes an
individual will achieve something in secret; and it’s only
when that’s been done the others learn about it; nobody knows
how it was done. So there’s no sense of togetherness, you
meet people now and then in the waiting rooms, but we don’t
talk much there. The superstitious beliefs were established a long
time ago and they spread all by themselves.” “I saw
those gentlemen in the waiting room,” said K., “it
seemed so pointless for them to be waiting in that way.”
“Waiting is not pointless,” said the businessman,
“it’s only pointless if you try and interfere yourself.
I told you just now I’ve got five lawyers besides this one.
You might think — I thought it myself at first — you
might think I could leave the whole thing entirely up to them now.
That would be entirely wrong. I can leave it up to them less than
when I had just the one. Maybe you don’t understand that, do
you?” “No,” said K., and to slow the businessman
down, who had been speaking too fast, he laid his hand on the
businessman’s to reassure him, “but I’d like just
to ask you to speak a little more slowly, these are many very
important things for me, and I can’t follow exactly what
you’re saying.” “You’re quite right to
remind me of that,” said the businessman, “you’re
new to all this, a junior. Your trial is six months old,
isn’t it? Yes, I’ve heard about it. Such a new case!
But I’ve already thought all these things through countless
times, to me they’re the most obvious things in the
world.” “You must be glad your trial has already
progressed so far, are you?” asked K., he did not wish to ask
directly how the businessman’s affairs stood, but received no
clear answer anyway. “Yes, I’ve been working at my
trial for five years now,” said the businessman as his head
sank, “that’s no small achievement.” Then he was
silent for a while. K. listened to hear whether Leni was on her way
back. On the one hand he did not want her to come back too soon as
he still had many questions to ask and did not want her to find him
in this intimate discussion with the businessman, but on the other
hand it irritated him that she stayed so long with the lawyer when
K. was there, much longer than she needed to give him his soup.
“I still remember it exactly,” the businessman began
again, and K. immediately gave him his full attention, “when
my case was as old as yours is now. I only had this one lawyer at
that time but I wasn’t very satisfied with him.” Now
I’ll find out everything, thought K., nodding vigorously as
if he could thereby encourage the businessman to say everything
worth knowing. “My case,” the businessman continued,
“didn’t move on at all, there were some hearings that
took place and I went to every one of them, collected materials,
handed all my business books to the court — which I later
found was entirely unnecessary — I ran back and forth to the
lawyer, and he submitted various documents to the court too
...” “Various documents?” asked K. “Yes,
that’s right,” said the businessman.
“That’s very important for me,” said K.,
“in my case he’s still working on the first set of
documents. He still hasn’t done anything. I see now that
he’s been neglecting me quite disgracefully.”
“There can be lots of good reasons why the first documents
still aren’t ready,” said the businessman, “and
anyway, it turned out later on that the ones he submitted for me
were entirely worthless. I even read one of them myself, one of the
officials at the court was very helpful. It was very learned, but
it didn’t actually say anything. Most of all, there was lots
of Latin, which I can’t understand, then pages and pages of
general appeals to the court, then lots of flattery for particular
officials, they weren’t named, these officials, but anyone
familiar with the court must have been able to guess who they were,
then there was self-praise by the lawyer where he humiliated
himself to the court in a way that was downright dog-like, and then
endless investigations of cases from the past which were supposed
to be similar to mine. Although, as far as I was able to follow
them, these investigations had been carried out very carefully.
Now, I don’t mean to criticise the lawyer’s work with
all of this, and the document I read was only one of many, but even
so, and this is something I will say, at that time I couldn’t
see any progress in my trial at all.” “And what sort of
progress had you been hoping for?” asked K.
“That’s a very sensible question,” said the
businessman with a smile, “it’s only very rare that you
see any progress in these proceedings at all. But I didn’t
know that then. I’m a businessman, much more in those days
than now, I wanted to see some tangible progress, it should have
all been moving to some conclusion or at least should have been
moving on in some way according to the rules. Instead of which
there were just more hearings, and most of them went through the
same things anyway; I had all the answers off pat like in a church
service; there were messengers from the court coming to me at work
several times a week, or they came to me at home or anywhere else
they could find me; and that was very disturbing of course (but at
least now things are better in that respect, it’s much less
disturbing when they contact you by telephone), and rumours about
my trial even started to spread among some of the people I do
business with, and especially my relations, so I was being made to
suffer in many different ways but there was still not the slightest
sign that even the first hearing would take place soon. So I went
to the lawyer and complained about it. He explained it all to me at
length, but refused to do anything I asked for, no-one has any
influence on the way the trial proceeds, he said, to try and insist
on it in any of the documents submitted — like I was asking
— was simply unheard of and would do harm to both him and me.
I thought to myself: What this lawyer can’t or won’t do
another lawyer will. So I looked round for other lawyers. And
before you say anything: none of them asked for a definite date for
the main trial and none of them got one, and anyway, apart from one
exception which I’ll talk about in a minute, it really is
impossible, that’s one thing this lawyer didn’t mislead
me about; but besides, I had no reason to regret turning to other
lawyers. Perhaps you’ve already heard how Dr. Huld talks
about the petty lawyers, he probably made them sound very
contemptible to you, and he’s right, they are contemptible.
But when he talks about them and compares them with himself and his
colleagues there’s a small error running through what he
says, and, just for your interest, I’ll tell you about it.
When he talks about the lawyers he mixes with he sets them apart by
calling them the ‘great lawyers’. That’s wrong,
anyone can call himself ‘great’ if he wants to, of
course, but in this case only the usage of the court can make that
distinction. You see, the court says that besides the petty lawyers
there are also minor lawyers and great lawyers. This one and his
colleagues are only minor lawyers, and the difference in rank
between them and the great lawyers, who I’ve only ever heard
about and never seen, is incomparably greater than between the
minor lawyers and the despised petty lawyers.” “The
great lawyers?” asked K. “Who are they then? How do you
contact them?” “You’ve never heard about them,
then?” said the businessman. “There’s hardly
anyone who’s been accused who doesn’t spend a lot of
time dreaming about the great lawyers once he’s heard about
them. It’s best if you don’t let yourself be misled in
that way. I don’t know who the great lawyers are, and
there’s probably no way of contacting them. I don’t
know of any case I can talk about with certainty where
they’ve taken any part. They do defend a lot of people, but
you can’t get hold of them by your own efforts, they only
defend those who they want to defend. And I don’t suppose
they ever take on cases that haven’t already got past the
lower courts. Anyway, it’s best not to think about them, as
if you do it makes the discussions with the other lawyers, all
their advice and all that they do manage to achieve, seem so
unpleasant and useless, I had that experience myself, just wanted
to throw everything away and lay at home in bed and hear nothing
more about it. But that, of course, would be the stupidest thing
you could do, and you wouldn’t be left in peace in bed for
very long either.” “So you weren’t thinking about
the great lawyers at that time?” asked K. “Not for very
long,” said the businessman, and smiled again, “you
can’t forget about them entirely, I’m afraid,
especially in the night when these thoughts come so easily. But I
wanted immediate results in those days, so I went to the petty
lawyers.”
“Well look at you two sat huddled together!” called
Leni as she came back with the dish and stood in the doorway. They
were indeed sat close together, if either of them turned his head
even slightly it would have knocked against the other’s, the
businessman was not only very small but also sat hunched down, so
that K. was also forced to bend down low if he wanted to hear
everything. “Not quite yet!” called out K., to turn
Leni away, his hand, still resting on the businessman’s hand,
twitching with impatience. “He wanted me to tell him about my
trial,” said the businessman to Leni. “Carry on, then,
carry on,” she said. She spoke to the businessman with
affection but, at the same time, with condescension. K. did not
like that, he had begun to learn that the man was of some value
after all, he had experience at least, and he was willing to share
it. Leni was probably wrong about him. He watched her in irritation
as Leni now took the candle from the businessman’s hand
— which he had been holding on to all this time — wiped
his hand with her apron and then knelt beside him to scratch off
some wax that had dripped from the candle onto his trousers.
“You were about to tell me about the petty lawyers,”
said K., shoving Leni’s hand away with no further comment.
“What’s wrong with you today?” asked Leni, tapped
him gently and carried on with what she had been doing. “Yes,
the petty lawyers,” said the businessman, putting his hand to
his brow as if thinking hard. K. wanted to help him and said,
“You wanted immediate results and so went to the petty
lawyers.” “Yes, that’s right,” said the
businessman, but did not continue with what he’d been saying.
“Maybe he doesn’t want to speak about it in front of
Leni,” thought K., suppressing his impatience to hear the
rest straight away, and stopped trying to press him.
“Have you told him I’m here?” he asked Leni.
“Course I have,” she said, “he’s waiting
for you. Leave Block alone now, you can talk to Block later,
he’ll still be here.” K. still hesitated.
“You’ll still be here?” he asked the businessman,
wanting to hear the answer from him and not wanting Leni to speak
about the businessman as if he weren’t there, he was full of
secret resentment towards Leni today. And once more it was only
Leni who answered. “He often sleeps here.” “He
sleeps here?” exclaimed K., he had thought the businessman
would just wait there for him while he quickly settled his business
with the lawyer, and then they would leave together to discuss
everything thoroughly and undisturbed. “Yes,” said
Leni, “not everyone’s like you, Josef, allowed to see
the lawyer at any time you like. Do don’t even seem surprised
that the lawyer, despite being ill, still receives you at eleven
o’clock at night. You take it far too much for granted, what
your friends do for you. Well, your friends, or at least I do, we
like to do things for you. I don’t want or need any more
thanks than that you’re fond of me.” “Fond of
you?” thought K. at first, and only then it occurred to him,
“Well, yes, I am fond of her.” Nonetheless, what he
said, forgetting all the rest, was, “He receives me because I
am his client. If I needed anyone else’s help I’d have
to beg and show gratitude whenever I do anything.”
“He’s really nasty today, isn’t he?” Leni
asked the businessman. “Now it’s me who’s not
here,” thought K., and nearly lost his temper with the
businessman when, with the same rudeness as Leni, he said,
“The lawyer also has other reasons to receive him. His case
is much more interesting than mine. And it’s only in its
early stages too, it probably hasn’t progressed very far so
the lawyer still likes to deal with him. That’ll all change
later on.” “Yeah, yeah,” said Leni, looking at
the businessman and laughing. “He doesn’t half
talk!” she said, turning to face K. “You can’t
believe a word he says. He’s as talkative as he is sweet.
Maybe that’s why the lawyer can’t stand him. At least,
he only sees him when he’s in the right mood. I’ve
already tried hard to change that but it’s impossible. Just
think, there are times when I tell him Block’s here and he
doesn’t receive him until three days later. And if Block
isn’t on the spot when he’s called then
everything’s lost and it all has to start all over again.
That’s why I let Block sleep here, it wouldn’t be the
first time Dr. Huld has wanted to see him in the night. So now
Block is ready for that. Sometimes, when he knows Block is still
here, he’ll even change his mind about letting him in to see
him.” K. looked questioningly at the businessman. The latter
nodded and, although he had spoken quite openly with K. earlier,
seemed to be confused with shame as he said, “Yes, later on
you become very dependent on your lawyer.” “He’s
only pretending to mind,” said Leni. “He likes to sleep
here really, he’s often said so.” She went over to a
little door and shoved it open. “Do you want to see his
bedroom?” she asked. K. went over to the low, windowless room
and looked in from the doorway. The room contained a narrow bed
which filled it completely, so that to get into the bed you would
need to climb over the bedpost. At the head of the bed there was a
niche in the wall where, fastidiously tidy, stood a candle, a
bottle of ink, and a pen with a bundle of papers which were
probably to do with the trial. “You sleep in the maid’s
room?” asked K., as he went back to the businessman.
“Leni’s let me have it,” answered the
businessman, “it has many advantages.” K. looked long
at him; his first impression of the businessman had perhaps not
been right; he had experience as his trial had already lasted a
long time, but he had paid a heavy price for this experience. K.
was suddenly unable to bear the sight of the businessman any
longer. “Bring him to bed, then!” he called out to
Leni, who seemed to understand him. For himself, he wanted to go to
the lawyer and, by dismissing him, free himself from not only the
lawyer but also from Leni and the businessman. But before he had
reached the door the businessman spoke to him gently. “Excuse
me, sir,” he said, and K. looked round crossly.
“You’ve forgotten your promise,” said the
businessman, stretching his hand out to K. imploringly from where
he sat. “You were going to tell me a secret.”
“That is true,” said K., as he glanced at Leni, who was
watching him carefully, to check on her. “So listen;
it’s hardly a secret now anyway. I’m going to see the
lawyer now to sack him.” “He’s sacking
him!” yelled the businessman, and he jumped up from his chair
and ran around the kitchen with his arms in the air. He kept on
shouting, “He’s sacking his lawyer!” Leni tried
to rush at K. but the businessman got in her way so that she shoved
him away with her fists. Then, still with her hands balled into
fists, she ran after K. who, however, had been given a long start.
He was already inside the lawyer’s room by the time Leni
caught up with him. He had almost closed the door behind himself,
but Leni held the door open with her foot, grabbed his arm and
tried to pull him back. But he put such pressure on her wrist that,
with a sigh, she was forced to release him. She did not dare go
into the room straight away, and K. locked the door with the
key.
“I’ve been waiting for you a very long time,”
said the lawyer from his bed. He had been reading something by the
light of a candle but now he laid it onto the bedside table and put
his glasses on, looking at K. sharply through them. Instead of
apologising K. said, “I’ll be leaving again
soon.” As he had not apologised the lawyer ignored what K.
said, and replied, “I won’t let you in this late again
next time.” “I find that quite acceptable,” said
K. The lawyer looked at him quizzically. “Sit down,” he
said. “As you wish,” said K., drawing a chair up to the
bedside table and sitting down. “It seemed to me that you
locked the door,” said the lawyer. “Yes,” said
K., “it was because of Leni.” He had no intention of
letting anyone off lightly. But the lawyer asked him, “Was
she being importunate again?” “Importunate?”
asked K. “Yes,” said the lawyer, laughing as he did so,
had a fit of coughing and then, once it had passed, began to laugh
again. “I’m sure you must have noticed how importunate
she can be sometimes,” he said, and patted K.’s hand
which K. had rested on the bedside table and which he now snatched
back. “You don’t attach much importance to it,
then,” said the lawyer when K. was silent, “so much the
better. Otherwise I might have needed to apologise to you. It is a
peculiarity of Leni’s. I’ve long since forgiven her for
it, and I wouldn’t be talking of it now, if you hadn’t
locked the door just now. Anyway, perhaps I should at least explain
this peculiarity of hers to you, but you seem rather disturbed, the
way you’re looking at me, and so that’s why I’ll
do it, this peculiarity of hers consists in this; Leni finds most
of the accused attractive. She attaches herself to each of them,
loves each of them, even seems to be loved by each of them; then
she sometimes entertains me by telling me about them when I allow
her to. I am not so astonished by all of this as you seem to be. If
you look at them in the right way the accused really can be
attractive, quite often. But that is a remarkable and to some
extent scientific phenomenon. Being indicted does not cause any
clear, precisely definable change in a person’s appearance,
of course. But it’s not like with other legal matters, most
of them remain in their usual way of life and, if they have a good
lawyer looking after them, the trial doesn’t get in their
way. But there are nonetheless those who have experience in these
matters who can look at a crowd, however big, and tell you which
among them is facing a charge. How can they do that, you will ask.
My answer will not please you. It is simply that those who are
facing a charge are the most attractive. It cannot be their guilt
that makes them attractive as not all of them are guilty — at
least that’s what I, as a lawyer, have to say — and nor
can it be the proper punishment that has made them attractive as
not all of them are punished, so it can only be that the
proceedings levelled against them take some kind of hold on them.
Whatever the reason, some of these attractive people are indeed
very attractive. But all of them are attractive, even Block,
pitiful worm that he is.” As the lawyer finished what he was
saying, K. was fully in control of himself, he had even nodded
conspicuously at his last few words in order to confirm to himself
the view he had already formed; that the lawyer was trying to
confuse him, as he always did, by making general and irrelevant
observations, and thus distract him from the main question of what
he was actually doing for K.’s trial. The lawyer must have
noticed that K. was offering him more resistance than before, as he
became silent, giving K. the chance to speak himself, and then, as
K. also remained silent, he asked, “Did you have a particular
reason for coming to see me today?” “Yes,” said
K., putting his hand up to slightly shade his eyes from the light
of the candle so that he could see the lawyer better, “I
wanted to tell you that I’m withdrawing my representation
from you, with immediate effect.” “Do I understand you
rightly?” asked the lawyer as he half raised himself in his
bed and supported himself with one hand on the pillow. “I
think you do,” said K., sitting stiffly upright as if waiting
in ambush. “Well we can certainly discuss this plan of
yours,” said the lawyer after a pause. “It’s not
a plan any more,” said K. “That may be,” said the
lawyer, “but we still mustn’t rush anything.” He
used the word ‘we’, as if he had no intention of
letting K. go free, and as if, even if he could no longer represent
him, he could still at least continue as his adviser.
“Nothing is being rushed,” said K., standing slowly up
and going behind his chair, “everything has been well thought
out and probably even for too long. The decision is final.”
“Then allow me to say a few words,” said the lawyer,
throwing the bed cover to one side and sitting on the edge of the
bed. His naked, white-haired legs shivered in the cold. He asked K.
to pass him a blanket from the couch. K. passed him the blanket and
said, “You are running the risk of catching cold for no
reason.” “The circumstances are important
enough,” said the lawyer as he wrapped the bed cover around
the top half of his body and then the blanket around his legs.
“Your uncle is my friend and in the course of time I’ve
become fond of you as well. I admit that quite openly.
There’s nothing in that for me to be ashamed of.” It
was very unwelcome for K. to hear the old man speak in this
touching way, as it forced him to explain himself more fully, which
he would rather have avoided, and he was aware that it also
confused him even though it could never make him reverse his
decision. “Thank you for feeling so friendly toward
me,” he said, “and I also realise how deeply involved
you’ve been in my case, as deeply as possible for yourself
and to bring as much advantage as possible to me. Nonetheless, I
have recently come to the conviction that it is not enough. I would
naturally never attempt, considering that you are so much older and
more experienced than I am, to convince you of my opinion; if I
have ever unintentionally done so then I beg your forgiveness, but,
as you have just said yourself, the circumstances are important
enough and it is my belief that my trial needs to be approached
with much more vigour than has so far been the case.”
“I see,” said the lawyer, “you’ve become
impatient.” “I am not impatient,” said K., with
some irritation and he stopped paying so much attention to his
choice of words. “When I first came here with my uncle you
probably noticed I wasn’t greatly concerned about my case,
and if I wasn’t reminded of it by force, as it were, I would
forget about it completely. But my uncle insisted I should allow
you to represent me and I did so as a favour to him. I could have
expected the case to be less of a burden than it had been, as the
point of taking on a lawyer is that he should take on some of its
weight. But what actually happened was the opposite. Before, the
trial was never such a worry for me as it has been since
you’ve been representing me. When I was by myself I never did
anything about my case, I was hardly aware of it, but then, once
there was someone representing me, everything was set for something
to happen, I was always, without cease, waiting for you to do
something, getting more and more tense, but you did nothing. I did
get some information about the court from you that I probably could
not have got anywhere else, but that can’t be enough when the
trial, supposedly in secret, is getting closer and closer to
me.” K. had pushed the chair away and stood erect, his hands
in the pockets of his frock coat. “After a certain point in
the proceedings,” said the lawyer quietly and calmly,
“nothing new of any importance ever happens. So many
litigants, at the same stage in their trials, have stood before me
just like you are now and spoken in the same way.”
“Then these other litigants,” said K., “have all
been right, just as I am. That does not show that I’m
not.” “I wasn’t trying to show that you were
mistaken,” said the lawyer, “but I wanted to add that I
expected better judgement from you than from the others, especially
as I’ve given you more insight into the workings of the court
and my own activities than I normally do. And now I’m forced
to accept that, despite everything, you have too little trust in
me. You don’t make it easy for me.” How the lawyer was
humiliating himself to K.! He was showing no regard for the dignity
of his position, which on this point, must have been at its most
sensitive. And why did he do that? He did seem to be very busy as a
lawyer as well a rich man, neither the loss of income nor the loss
of a client could have been of much importance to him in
themselves. He was moreover unwell and should have been thinking of
passing work on to others. And despite all that he held on tightly
to K. Why? Was it something personal for his uncle’s sake, or
did he really see K.’s case as one that was exceptional and
hoped to be able to distinguish himself with it, either for
K.’s sake or — and this possibility could never be
excluded — for his friends at the court? It was not possible
to learn anything by looking at him, even though K. was
scrutinizing him quite brazenly. It could almost be supposed he was
deliberately hiding his thoughts as he waited to see what effect
his words would have. But he clearly deemed K.’s silence to
be favourable for himself and he continued, “You will have
noticed the size of my office, but that I don’t employ any
staff to help me. That used to be quite different, there was a time
when several young lawyers were working for me but now I work
alone. This is partly to do with changes in the way I do business,
in that I concentrate nowadays more and more on matters such as
your own case, and partly to do with the ever deeper understanding
that I acquire from these legal matters. I found that I could never
let anyone else deal with this sort of work unless I wanted to harm
both the client and the job I had taken on. But the decision to do
all the work myself had its obvious result: I was forced to turn
almost everyone away who asked me to represent them and could only
accept those I was especially interested in — well there are
enough creatures who leap at every crumb I throw down, and
they’re not so very far away. Most importantly, I became ill
from over-work. But despite that I don’t regret my decision,
quite possibly I should have turned more cases away than I did, but
it did turn out to be entirely necessary for me to devote myself
fully to the cases I did take on, and the successful results showed
that it was worth it. I once read a description of the difference
between representing someone in ordinary legal matters and in legal
matters of this sort, and the writer expressed it very well. This
is what he said: some lawyers lead their clients on a thread until
judgement is passed, but there are others who immediately lift
their clients onto their shoulders and carry them all the way to
the judgement and beyond. That’s just how it is. But it was
quite true when I said I never regret all this work. But if, as in
your case, they are so fully misunderstood, well, then I come very
close to regretting it.” All this talking did more to make K.
impatient than to persuade him. From the way the lawyer was
speaking, K. thought he could hear what he could expect if he gave
in, the delays and excuses would begin again, reports of how the
documents were progressing, how the mood of the court officials had
improved, as well as all the enormous difficulties — in short
all that he had heard so many times before would be brought out
again even more fully, he would try to mislead K. with hopes that
were never specified and to make him suffer with threats that were
never clear. He had to put a stop to that, so he said, “What
will you undertake on my behalf if you continue to represent
me?” The lawyer quietly accepted even this insulting
question, and answered, “I should continue with what
I’ve already been doing for you.” “That’s
just what I thought,” said K., “and now you don’t
need to say another word.” “I will make one more
attempt,” said the lawyer as if whatever had been making K.
so annoyed was affecting him too. “You see, I have the
impression that you have not only misjudged the legal assistance I
have given you but also that that misjudgement has led you to
behave in this way, you seem, although you are the accused, to have
been treated too well or, to put it a better way, handled with
neglect, with apparent neglect. Even that has its reason; it is
often better to be in chains than to be free. But I would like to
show you how other defendants are treated, perhaps you will succeed
in learning something from it. What I will do is I will call Block
in, unlock the door and sit down here beside the bedside
table.” “Be glad to,” said K., and did as the
lawyer suggested; he was always ready to learn something new. But
to make sure of himself for any event he added, “but you do
realise that you are no longer to be my lawyer, don’t
you?” “Yes,” said the lawyer. “But you can
still change your mind today if you want to.” He lay back
down in the bed, pulled the quilt up to his chin and turned to face
the wall. Then he rang.
Leni appeared almost the moment he had done so. She looked
hurriedly at K. and the lawyer to try and find out what had
happened; she seemed to be reassured by the sight of K. sitting
calmly at the lawyer’s bed. She smiled and nodded to K., K.
looked blankly back at her. “Fetch Block,” said the
lawyer. But instead of going to fetch him, Leni just went to the
door and called out, “Block! To the lawyer!” Then,
probably because the lawyer had turned his face to the wall and was
paying no attention, she slipped in behind K.’s chair. From
then on, she bothered him by leaning forward over the back of the
chair or, albeit very tenderly and carefully, she would run her
hands through his hair and over his cheeks. K. eventually tried to
stop her by taking hold of one hand, and after some resistance Leni
let him keep hold of it. Block came as soon as he was called, but
he remained standing in the doorway and seemed to be wondering
whether he should enter or not. He raised his eyebrows and lowered
his head as if listening to find out whether the order to attend
the lawyer would be repeated. K. could have encouraged to enter,
but he had decided to make a final break not only with the lawyer
but with everything in his home, so he kept himself motionless.
Leni was also silent. Block noticed that at least no-one was
chasing him away, and, on tiptoe, he entered the room, his face was
tense, his hands were clenched behind his back. He left the door
open in case he needed to go back again. K. did not even glance at
him, he looked instead only at the thick quilt under which the
lawyer could not be seen as he had squeezed up very close to the
wall. Then his voice was heard: “Block here?” he asked.
Block had already crept some way into the room but this question
seemed to give him first a shove in the breast and then another in
the back, he seemed about to fall but remained standing, deeply
bowed, and said, “At your service, sir.” “What do
you want?” asked the lawyer, “you’ve come at a
bad time.” “Wasn’t I summoned?” asked
Block, more to himself than the lawyer. He held his hands in front
of himself as protection and would have been ready to run away any
moment. “You were summoned,” said the lawyer,
“but you have still come at a bad time.” Then, after a
pause he added, “You always come at a bad time.” When
the lawyer started speaking Block had stopped looking at the bed
but stared rather into one of the corners, just listening, as if
the light from the speaker were brighter than Block could bear to
look at. But it was also difficult for him to listen, as the lawyer
was speaking into the wall and speaking quickly and quietly.
“Would you like me to go away again, sir?” asked Block.
“Well you’re here now,” said the lawyer.
“Stay!” It was as if the lawyer had not done as Block
had wanted but instead threatened him with a stick, as now Block
really began to shake. “I went to see,” said the
lawyer, “the third judge yesterday, a friend of mine, and
slowly brought the conversation round to the subject of you. Do you
want to know what he said?” “Oh, yes please,”
said Block. The lawyer did not answer immediately, so Block
repeated his request and lowered his head as if about to kneel
down. But then K. spoke to him: “What do you think
you’re doing?” he shouted. Leni had wanted to stop him
from calling out and so he took hold of her other hand. It was not
love that made him squeeze it and hold on to it so tightly, she
sighed frequently and tried to disengage her hands from him. But
Block was punished for K.’s outburst, as the lawyer asked
him, “Who is your lawyer?” “You are, sir,”
said Block. “And who besides me?” the lawyer asked.
“No-one besides you, sir,” said Block. “And let
there be no-one besides me,” said the lawyer. Block fully
understood what that meant, he glowered at K., shaking his head
violently. If these actions had been translated into words they
would have been coarse insults. K. had been friendly and willing to
discuss his own case with someone like this! “I won’t
disturb you any more,” said K., leaning back in his chair.
“You can kneel down or creep on all fours, whatever you like.
I won’t bother with you any more.” But Block still had
some sense of pride, at least where K. was concerned, and he went
towards him waving his fists, shouting as loudly as he dared while
the lawyer was there. “You shouldn’t speak to me like
that, that’s not allowed. Why are you insulting me?
Especially here in front of the lawyer, where both of us, you and
me, we’re only tolerated because of his charity. You’re
not a better person than me, you’ve been accused of something
too, you’re facing a charge too. If, in spite of that,
you’re still a gentleman then I’m just as much a
gentleman as you are, if not even more so. And I want to be spoken
to as a gentleman, especially by you. If you think being allowed to
sit there and quietly listen while I creep on all fours as you put
it makes you something better than me, then there’s an old
legal saying you ought to bear in mind: If you’re under
suspicion it’s better to be moving than still, as if
you’re still you can be in the pan of the scales without
knowing it and be weighed along with your sins.” K. said
nothing. He merely looked in amazement at this distracted being,
his eyes completely still. He had gone through such changes in just
the last few hours! Was it the trial that was throwing him from
side to side in this way and stopped him knowing who was friend and
who was foe? Could he not see the lawyer was deliberately
humiliating him and had no other purpose today than to show off his
power to K., and perhaps even thereby subjugate K.? But if Block
was incapable of seeing that, or if he so feared the lawyer that no
such insight would even be of any use to him, how was it that he
was either so sly or so bold as to lie to the lawyer and conceal
from him the fact that he had other lawyers working on his behalf?
And how did he dare to attack K., who could betray his secret any
time he liked? But he dared even more than this, he went to the
lawyer’s bed and began there to make complaints about K.
“Dr. Huld, sir,” he said, “did you hear the way
this man spoke to me? You can count the length of his trial in
hours, and he wants to tell me what to do when I’ve been
involved in a legal case for five years. He even insults me. He
doesn’t know anything, but he insults me, when I, as far as
my weak ability allows, when I’ve made a close study of how
to behave with the court, what we ought to do and what the court
practices are.” “Don’t let anyone bother
you,” said the lawyer, “and do what seems to you to be
right.” “I will,” said Block, as if speaking to
himself to give himself courage, and with a quick glance to the
side he kneeled down close beside the bed. “I’m
kneeling now Dr. Huld, sir,” he said. But the lawyer remained
silent. With one hand, Block carefully stroked the bed cover. In
the silence while he did so, Leni, as she freed herself from
K.’s hands, said, “You’re hurting me. Let go of
me. I’m going over to Block.” She went over to him and
sat on the edge of the bed. Block was very pleased at this and with
lively, but silent, gestures he immediately urged her to intercede
for him with the lawyer. It was clear that he desperately needed to
be told something by the lawyer, although perhaps only so that he
could make use of the information with his other lawyers. Leni
probably knew very well how the lawyer could be brought round,
pointed to his hand and pursed her lips as if making a kiss. Block
immediately performed the hand-kiss and, at further urging from
Leni, repeated it twice more. But the lawyer continued to be
silent. Then Leni leant over the lawyer, as she stretched out, the
attractive shape of her body could be seen, and, bent over close to
his face, she stroked his long white hair. That now forced him to
give an answer. “I’m rather wary of telling him,”
said the lawyer, and his head could be seen shaking slightly,
perhaps so that he would feel the pressure of Leni’s hand
better. Block listened closely with his head lowered, as if by
listening he were breaking an order. “What makes you so wary
about it?” asked Leni. K. had the feeling he was listening to
a contrived dialogue that had been repeated many times, that would
be repeated many times more, and that for Block alone it would
never lose its freshness. “What has his behaviour been like
today?” asked the lawyer instead of an answer. Before Leni
said anything she looked down at Block and watched him a short
while as he raised his hands towards her and rubbed them together
imploringly. Finally she gave a serious nod, turned back to the
lawyer and said, “He’s been quiet and
industrious.” This was an elderly businessman, a man whose
beard was long, and he was begging a young girl to speak on his
behalf. Even if there was some plan behind what he did, there was
nothing that could reinstate him in the eyes of his fellow man. K.
could not understand how the lawyer could have thought this
performance would win him over. Even if he had done nothing earlier
to make him want to leave then this scene would have done so. It
was almost humiliating even for the onlooker. So these were the
lawyer’s methods, which K. fortunately had not been exposed
to for long, to let the client forget about the whole world and
leave him with nothing but the hope of reaching the end of his
trial by this deluded means. He was no longer a client, he was the
lawyer’s dog. If the lawyer had ordered him to crawl under
the bed as if it were a kennel and to bark out from under it, then
he would have done so with enthusiasm. K. listened to all of this,
testing it and thinking it over as if he had been given the task of
closely observing everything spoken here, inform a higher office
about it and write a report. “And what has he been doing all
day?” asked the lawyer. “I kept him locked in the
maid’s room all day,” said Leni, “so that he
wouldn’t stop me doing my work. That’s where he usually
stays. >From time to time I looked in through the spyhole to see
what he was doing, and each time he was kneeling on the bed and
reading the papers you gave him, propped up on the window sill.
That made a good impression on me; as the window only opens onto an
air shaft and gives hardly any light. It showed how obedient he is
that he was even reading in those conditions.”
“I’m pleased to hear it,” said the lawyer.
“But did he understand what he was reading?” While this
conversation was going on, Block continually moved his lips and was
clearly formulating the answers he hoped Leni would give.
“Well I can’t give you any certain answer to that of
course,” said Leni, “but I could see that he was
reading thoroughly. He spent all day reading the same page, running
his finger along the lines. Whenever I looked in on him he sighed
as if this reading was a lot of work for him. I expect the papers
you gave him were very hard to understand.”
“Yes,” said the lawyer, “they certainly are that.
And I really don’t think he understood anything of them. But
they should at least give him some inkling of just how hard a
struggle it is and how much work it is for me to defend him. And
who am I doing all this hard work for? I’m doing it —
it’s laughable even to say it — I’m doing it for
Block. He ought to realise what that means, too. Did he study
without a pause?” “Almost without a pause,”
answered Leni. “Just the once he asked me for a drink of
water, so I gave him a glassful through the window. Then at eight
o’clock I let him out and gave him something to eat.”
Block glanced sideways at K., as if he were being praised and had
to impress K. as well. He now seemed more optimistic, he moved more
freely and rocked back and forth on his knees. This made his
astonishment all the more obvious when he heard the following words
from the lawyer: “You speak well of him,” said the
lawyer, “but that’s just what makes it difficult for
me. You see, the judge did not speak well of him at all, neither
about Block nor about his case.” “Didn’t speak
well of him?” asked Leni. “How is that possible?”
Block looked at her with such tension he seemed to think that
although the judge’s words had been spoken so long before she
would be able to change them in his favour. “Not at
all,” said the lawyer. “In fact he became quite cross
when I started to talk about Block to him. ‘Don’t talk
to me about Block,’ he said. ‘He is my client,’
said I. ‘You’re letting him abuse you,’ he said.
‘I don’t think his case is lost yet,’ said I.
‘You’re letting him abuse you,’ he repeated.
‘I don’t think so,’ said I. ‘Block works
hard in his case and always knows where it stands. He practically
lives with me so that he always knows what’s happening. You
don’t always find such enthusiasm as that. He’s not
very pleasant personally, I grant you, his manners are terrible and
he’s dirty, but as far as the trial’s concerned
he’s quite immaculate.’ I said immaculate, but I was
deliberately exaggerating. Then he said, ‘Block is sly,
that’s all. He’s accumulated plenty of experience and
knows how to delay proceedings. But there’s more that he
doesn’t know than he does. What do you think he’d say
if he learned his trial still hasn’t begun, if you told him
they haven’t even rung the bell to announce the start of
proceedings?’ Alright Block, alright,” said the lawyer,
as at these words Block had begun to raise himself on his trembling
knees and clearly wanted to plead for some explanation. It was the
first time the lawyer had spoken any clear words directly to Block.
He looked down with his tired eyes, half blankly and half at Block,
who slowly sank back down on his knees under this gaze. “What
the judge said has no meaning for you,” said the lawyer.
“You needn’t be frightened at every word. If you do it
again I won’t tell you anything else at all. It’s
impossible to start a sentence without you looking at me as if you
were receiving your final judgement. You should be ashamed of
yourself here in front of my client! And you’re destroying
the trust he has for me. Just what is it you want? You’re
still alive, you’re still under my protection. There’s
no point in worrying! Somewhere you’ve read that the final
judgement can often come without warning, from anyone at any time.
And, in the right circumstances, that’s basically true, but
it’s also true that I dislike your anxiety and fear and see
that you don’t have the trust in me you should have. Now what
have I just said? I repeated something said by one of the judges.
You know that there are so many various opinions about the
procedure that they form into a great big pile and nobody can make
any sense of them. This judge, for instance, sees proceedings as
starting at a different point from where I do. A difference of
opinion, nothing more. At a certain stage in the proceedings
tradition has it that a sign is given by ringing a bell. This judge
sees that as the point at which proceedings begin. I can’t
set out all the opinions opposed to that view here, and you
wouldn’t understand it anyway, suffice it to say that there
are many reasons to disagree with him.” Embarrassed, Block
ran his fingers through the pile of the carpet, his anxiety about
what the judge had said had let him forget his inferior status
towards the lawyer for a while, he thought only about himself and
turned the judges words round to examine them from all sides.
“Block,” said Leni, as if reprimanding him, and, taking
hold of the collar of his coat, pulled him up slightly higher.
“Leave the carpet alone and listen to what the lawyer is
saying.”
This chapter was left unfinished.