Chapter 3

In the empty Courtroom--The Student--The Offices

Every day over the following week, K. expected another summons to
arrive, he could not believe that his rejection of any more hearings had
been taken literally, and when the expected summons really had not come
by Saturday evening he took it to mean that he was expected, without
being told, to appear at the same place at the same time. So on Sunday,
he set out once more in the same direction, going without hesitation up
the steps and through the corridors; some of the people remembered him
and greeted him from their doorways, but he no longer needed to ask
anyone the way and soon arrived at the right door. It was opened as soon
as he knocked and, paying no attention to the woman he had seen last
time who was standing at the doorway, he was about to go straight into
the adjoining room when she said to him "There's no session today."
"What do you mean; no session?" he asked, unable to believe it. But the
woman persuaded him by opening the door to the next room. It was indeed
empty, and looked even more dismal empty than it had the previous
Sunday. On the podium stood the table exactly as it had been before with
a few books laying on it. "Can I have a look at those books?" asked K.,
not because he was especially curious but so that he would not have come
for nothing. "No," said the woman as she re-closed the door, "that's not
allowed. Those books belong to the examining judge." "I see," said K.,
and nodded, "those books must be law books, and that's how this court
does things, not only to try people who are innocent but even to try
them without letting them know what's going on." "I expect you're
right," said the woman, who had not understood exactly what he meant.
"I'd better go away again, then," said K. "Should I give a message to
the examining judge?" asked the woman. "Do you know him, then?" asked K.
"Of course I know him," said the woman, "my husband is the court usher."
It was only now that K. noticed that the room, which before had held
nothing but a wash-tub, had been fitted out as a living room. The woman
saw how surprised he was and said, "Yes, we're allowed to live here as
we like, only we have to clear the room out when the court's in session.
There's lots of disadvantages to my husband's job." "It's not so much
the room that surprises me," said K., looking at her crossly, "it's your
being married that shocks me." "Are you thinking about what happened
last time the court was in session, when I disturbed what you were
saying?" asked the woman. "Of course," said K., "it's in the past now
and I've nearly forgotten about it, but at the time it made me furious.
And now you tell me yourself that you are a married woman." "It wasn't
any disadvantage for you to have your speech interrupted. The way they
talked about you after you'd gone was really bad." "That could well be,"
said K., turning away, "but it does not excuse you." "There's no-one I
know who'd hold it against me," said the woman. "Him, who put his arms
around me, he's been chasing after me for a long time. I might not be
very attractive for most people, but I am for him. I've got no
protection from him, even my husband has had to get used to it; if he
wants to keep his job he's got to put up with it as that man's a student
and he'll almost certainly be very powerful later on. He's always after
me, he'd only just left when you arrived." "That fits in with everything
else," said K., "I'm not surprised." "Do you want to make things a bit
better here?" the woman asked slowly, watching him as if she were saying
something that could be as dangerous for K. as for herself. "That's what
I thought when I heard you speak, I really liked what you said. Mind
you, I only heard part of it, I missed the beginning of it and at the
end I was lying on the floor with the student--it's so horrible here,"
she said after a pause, and took hold of K.'s hand. "Do you believe you
really will be able to make things better?" K. smiled and twisted his
hand round a little in her soft hands. "It's really not my job to make
things better here, as you put it," he said, "and if you said that to
the examining judge he would laugh at you or punish you for it. I really
would not have become involved in this matter if I could have helped it,
and I would have lost no sleep worrying about how this court needs to be
made better. But because I'm told that I have been arrested--and I am
under arrest--it forces me to take some action, and to do so for my own
sake. However, if I can be of some service to you in the process I will,
of course, be glad to do so. And I will be glad to do so not only for
the sake of charity but also because you can be of some help to me."
"How could I help you, then?" said the woman. "You could, for example,
show me the books on the table there." "Yes, certainly," the woman
cried, and pulled K. along behind her as she rushed to them. The books
were old and well worn, the cover of one of them had nearly broken
through in its middle, and it was held together with a few threads.
"Everything is so dirty here," said K., shaking his head, and before he
could pick the books up the woman wiped some of the dust off with her
apron. K. took hold of the book that lay on top and threw it open, an
indecent picture appeared. A man and a woman sat naked on a sofa, the
base intent of whoever drew it was easy to see but he had been so
grossly lacking in skill that all that anyone could really make out were
the man and the woman who dominated the picture with their bodies,
sitting in overly upright postures that created a false perspective and
made it difficult for them to approach each other. K. didn't thumb
through that book any more, but just threw open the next one at its
title page, it was a novel with the title, What Grete Suffered from her
Husband, Hans. "So this is the sort of law book they study here," said
K., "this is the sort of person sitting in judgement over me." "I can
help you," said the woman, "would you like me to?" "Could you really do
that without placing yourself in danger? You did say earlier on that
your husband is wholly dependent on his superiors." "I still want to
help you," said the woman, "come over here, we've got to talk about it.
Don't say any more about what danger I'm in, I only fear danger where I
want to fear it. Come over here." She pointed to the podium and invited
him to sit down on the step with her. "You've got lovely dark eyes," she
said after they had sat down, looking up into K.'s face, "people say
I've got nice eyes too, but yours are much nicer. It was the first thing
I noticed when you first came here. That's even why I came in here, into
the assembly room, afterwards, I'd never normally do that, I'm not
really even allowed to." So that's what all this is about, thought K.,
she's offering herself to me, she's as degenerate as everything else
around here, she's had enough of the court officials, which is
understandable I suppose, and so she approaches any stranger and makes
compliments about his eyes. With that, K. stood up in silence as if he
had spoken his thoughts out loud and thus explained his action to the
woman. "I don't think you can be of any assistance to me," he said, "to
be of any real assistance you would need to be in contact with high
officials. But I'm sure you only know the lower employees, and there are
crowds of them milling about here. I'm sure you're very familiar with
them and could achieve a great deal through them, I've no doubt of that,
but the most that could be done through them would have no bearing at
all on the final outcome of the trial. You, on the other hand, would
lose some of your friends as a result, and I have no wish of that. Carry
on with these people in the same way as you have been, as it does seem
to me to be something you cannot do without. I have no regrets in saying
this as, in return for your compliment to me, I also find you rather
attractive, especially when you look at me as sadly as you are now,
although you really have no reason to do so. You belong to the people I
have to combat, and you're very comfortable among them, you're even in
love with the student, or if you don't love him you do at least prefer
him to your husband. It's easy to see that from what you've been
saying." "No!" she shouted, remained sitting where she was and grasped
K.'s hand, which he failed to pull away fast enough. "You can't go away
now, you can't go away when you've misjudged me like that! Are you
really capable of going away now? Am I really so worthless that you
won't even do me the favour of staying a little bit longer?" "You
misunderstand me," said K., sitting back down, "if it's really important
to you for me to stay here then I'll be glad to do so, I have plenty of
time, I came here thinking there would be a trial taking place. All I
meant with what I said just now was to ask you not to do anything on my
behalf in the proceedings against me. But even that is nothing for you
to worry about when you consider that there's nothing hanging on the
outcome of this trial, and that, whatever the verdict, I will just laugh
at it. And that's even presupposing it ever even reaches any conclusion,
which I very much doubt. I think it's much more likely that the court
officials will be too lazy, too forgetful, or even too fearful ever to
continue with these proceedings and that they will soon be abandoned if
they haven't been abandoned already. It's even possible that they will
pretend to be carrying on with the trial in the hope of receiving a
large bribe, although I can tell you now that that will be quite in vain
as I pay bribes to no-one. Perhaps one favour you could do me would be
to tell the examining judge, or anyone else who likes to spread
important news, that I will never be induced to pay any sort of bribe
through any stratagem of theirs--and I'm sure they have many stratagems
at their disposal. There is no prospect of that, you can tell them that
quite openly. And what's more, I expect they have already noticed
themselves, or even if they haven't, this affair is really not so
important to me as they think. Those gentlemen would only save some work
for themselves, or at least some unpleasantness for me, which, however,
I am glad to endure if I know that each piece of unpleasantness for me
is a blow against them. And I will make quite sure it is a blow against
them. Do you actually know the judge?" "Course I do," said the woman,
"he was the first one I thought of when I offered to help you. I didn't
know he's only a minor official, but if you say so it must be true. Mind
you, I still think the report he gives to his superiors must have some
influence. And he writes so many reports. You say these officials are
lazy, but they're certainly not all lazy, especially this examining
judge, he writes ever such a lot. Last Sunday, for instance, that
session went on till the evening. Everyone had gone, but the examining
judge, he stayed in the hall, I had to bring him a lamp in, all I had
was a little kitchen lamp but he was very satisfied with it and started
to write straight away. Meantime my husband arrived, he always has the
day off on Sundays, we got the furniture back in and got our room sorted
out and then a few of the neighbours came, we sat and talked for a bit
by a candle, in short, we forgot all about the examining judge and went
to bed. All of a sudden in the night, it must have been quite late in
the night, I wakes up, next to the bed, there's the examining judge
shading the lamp with his hand so that there's no light from it falls on
my husband, he didn't need to be as careful as that, the way my husband
sleeps the light wouldn't have woken him up anyway. I was quite shocked
and nearly screamed, but the judge was very friendly, warned me I should
be careful, he whispered to me he's been writing all this time, and now
he's brought me the lamp back, and he'll never forget how I looked when
he found me there asleep. What I mean, with all this, I just wanted to
tell you how the examining judge really does write lots of reports,
especially about you as questioning you was definitely one of the main
things on the agenda that Sunday. If he writes reports as long as that
they must be of some importance. And besides all that, you can see from
what happened that the examining judge is after me, and it's right now,
when he's first begun to notice me, that I can have a lot of influence
on him. And I've got other proof I mean a lot to him, too. Yesterday, he
sent that student to me, the one he really trusts and who he works with,
he sent him with a present for me, silk stockings. He said it was
because I clear up in the courtroom but that's only a pretence, that
job's no more than what I'm supposed to do, it's what my husband gets
paid for. Nice stockings, they are, look,"--she stretched out her leg,
drew her skirt up to her knee and looked, herself, at the
stocking--"they are nice stockings, but they're too good for me,
really."

She suddenly interrupted herself and lay her hand on K.'s as if she
wanted to calm him down, and whispered, "Be quiet, Berthold is watching
us." K. slowly looked up. In the doorway to the courtroom stood a young
man, he was short, his legs were not quite straight, and he continually
moved his finger round in a short, thin, red beard with which he hoped
to make himself look dignified. K. looked at him with some curiosity, he
was the first student he had ever met of the unfamiliar discipline of
jurisprudence, face to face at least, a man who would even most likely
attain high office one day. The student, in contrast, seemed to take no
notice of K. at all, he merely withdrew his finger from his beard long
enough to beckon to the woman and went over to the window, the woman
leant over to K. and whispered, "Don't be cross with me, please don't,
and please don't think ill of me either, I've got to go to him now, to
this horrible man, just look at his bent legs. But I'll come straight
back and then I'll go with you if you'll take me, I'll go wherever you
want, you can do whatever you like with me, I'll be happy if I can be
away from here for as long as possible, it'd be best if I could get away
from here for good." She stroked K.'s hand once more, jumped up and ran
over to the window. Before he realised it, K. grasped for her hand but
failed to catch it. He really was attracted to the woman, and even after
thinking hard about it could find no good reason why he should not give
in to her allure. It briefly crossed his mind that the woman meant to
entrap him on behalf of the court, but that was an objection he had no
difficulty in fending off. In what way could she entrap him? Was he not
still free, so free that he could crush the entire court whenever he
wanted, at least where it concerned him? Could he not have that much
confidence in himself? And her offer of help sounded sincere, and maybe
it wasn't quite worthless. And maybe there was no better revenge against
the examining judge and his cronies than to take this woman from him and
have her for himself. Maybe then, after much hard work writing dishonest
reports about K., the judge would go to the woman's bed late one night
and find it empty. And it would be empty because she belonged to K.,
because this woman at the window, this lush, supple, warm body in its
sombre clothes of rough, heavy material belonged to him, totally to him
and to him alone. Once he had settled his thoughts towards the woman in
this way, he began to find the quiet conversation at the window was
taking too long, he rapped on the podium with his knuckles, and then
even with his fist. The student briefly looked away from the woman to
glance at K. over his shoulder but did allow himself to be disturbed, in
fact he even pressed himself close to the woman and put his arms around
her. She dropped her head down low as if listening to him carefully, as
she did so he kissed her right on the neck, hardly even interrupting
what he was saying. K. saw this as confirmation of the tyranny the
student held over the woman and which she had already complained about,
he stood up and walked up and down the room. Glancing sideways at the
student, he wondered what would be the quickest possible way to get rid
of him, and so it was not unwelcome to him when the student, clearly
disturbed by K.'s to-ing and fro-ing which K. had now developed into a
stamping up and down, said to him, "You don't have to stay here, you
know, if you're getting impatient. You could have gone earlier, no-one
would have missed you. In fact you should have gone, you should have
left as quickly as possible as soon as I got here." This comment could
have caused all possible rage to break out between them, but K. also
bore in mind that this was a prospective court official speaking to a
disfavoured defendant, and he might well have been taking pride in
speaking in this way. K. remained standing quite close to him and said
with a smile, "You're quite right, I am impatient, but the easiest way
to settle this impatience would be if you left us. On the other hand,
if you've come here to study--you are a student, I hear--I'll be quite
happy to leave the room to you and go away with the woman. I'm sure
you'll still have a lot of study to do before you're made into a judge.
It's true that I'm still not all that familiar with your branch of
jurisprudence but I take it it involves a lot more than speaking
roughly--and I see you have no shame in doing that extremely well." "He
shouldn't have been allowed to move about so freely," said the student,
as if he wanted to give the woman an explanation for K.'s insults, "that
was a mistake. I've told the examining judge so. He should at least have
been detained in his room between hearings. Sometimes it's impossible to
understand what the judge thinks he's doing." "You're wasting your
breath," said K., then he reached his hand out towards the woman and
said, "come with me." "So that's it," said the student, "oh no, you're
not going to get her," and with a strength you would not have expected
from him, he glanced tenderly at her, lifted her up on one arm and, his
back bent under the weight, ran with her to the door. In this way he
showed, unmistakably, that he was to some extent afraid of K., but he
nonetheless dared to provoke him still further by stroking and squeezing
the woman's arm with his free hand. K. ran the few steps up to him, but
when he had reached him and was about to take hold of him and, if
necessary, throttle him, the woman said, "It's no good, it's the
examining judge who's sent for me, I daren't go with you, this little
bastard ..." and here she ran her hand over the student's face, "this
little bastard won't let me." "And you don't want to be set free!"
shouted K., laying his hand on the student's shoulder, who then snapped
at it with his teeth. "No!" shouted the woman, pushing K. away with both
hands, "no, no don't do that, what d'you think you're doing? That'd be
the end of me. Let go of him, please just let go of him. He's only
carrying out the judge's orders, he's carrying me to him." "Let him take
you then, and I want to see nothing more of you," said K., enraged by
his disappointment and giving the student a thump in the back so that he
briefly stumbled and then, glad that he had not fallen, immediately
jumped up all the higher with his burden. K. followed them slowly. He
realised that this was the first unambiguous setback he had suffered
from these people. It was of course nothing to worry about, he accepted
the setback only because he was looking for a fight. If he stayed at
home and carried on with his normal life he would be a thousand times
superior to these people and could get any of them out of his way just
with a kick. And he imagined the most laughable scene possible as an
example of this, if this contemptible student, this inflated child, this
knock-kneed redbeard, if he were kneeling at Elsa's bed wringing his
hands and begging for forgiveness. K. so enjoyed imagining this scene
that he decided to take the student along to Elsa with him if ever he
should get the opportunity.

K. was curious to see where the woman would be taken and he hurried over
to the door, the student was not likely to carry her through the streets
on his arm. It turned out that the journey was far shorter. Directly
opposite the flat there was a narrow flight of wooden steps which
probably led up to the attic, they turned as they went so that it was
not possible to see where they ended. The student carried the woman up
these steps, and after the exertions of running with her he was soon
groaning and moving very slowly. The woman waved down at K. and by
raising and lowering her shoulders she tried to show that she was an
innocent party in this abduction, although the gesture did not show a
lot of regret. K. watched her without expression like a stranger, he
wanted to show neither that he was disappointed nor that he would easily
get over his disappointment.

The two of them had disappeared, but K. remained standing in the
doorway. He had to accept that the woman had not only cheated him but
that she had also lied to him when she said she was being taken to the
examining judge. The examining judge certainly wouldn't be sitting and
waiting in the attic. The wooden stairs would explain nothing to him
however long he stared at them. Then K. noticed a small piece of paper
next to them, went across to it and read, in a childish and unpractised
hand, "Entrance to the Court Offices". Were the court offices here, in
the attic of this tenement, then? If that was how they were
accommodated it did not attract much respect, and it was some comfort
for the accused to realise how little money this court had at its
disposal if it had to locate its offices in a place where the tenants of
the building, who were themselves among the poorest of people, would
throw their unneeded junk. On the other hand, it was possible that the
officials had enough money but that they squandered it on themselves
rather than use it for the court's purposes. Going by K.'s experience of
them so far, that even seemed probable, except that if the court were
allowed to decay in that way it would not just humiliate the accused but
also give him more encouragement than if the court were simply in a
state of poverty. K. also now understood that the court was ashamed to
summon those it accused to the attic of this building for the initial
hearing, and why it preferred to impose upon them in their own homes.
What a position it was that K. found himself in, compared with the judge
sitting up in the attic! K., at the bank, had a big office with an
ante-room, and had an enormous window through which he could look down
at the activity in the square. It was true, though, that he had no
secondary income from bribes and fraud, and he couldn't tell a servant
to bring him a woman up to the office on his arm. K., however, was quite
willing to do without such things, in this life at least. K. was still
looking at the notice when a man came up the stairs, looked through the
open door into the living room where it was also possible to see the
courtroom, and finally asked K. whether he had just seen a woman there.
"You're the court usher, aren't you?" asked K. "That's right," said the
man, "oh, yes, you're defendant K., I recognise you now as well. Nice to
see you here." And he offered K. his hand, which was far from what K.
had expected. And when K. said nothing, he added, "There's no court
session planned for today, though." "I know that," said K. as he looked
at the usher's civilian coat which, beside its ordinary buttons,
displayed two gilded ones as the only sign of his office and seemed to
have been taken from an old army officer's coat. "I was speaking with
your wife a little while ago. She is no longer here. The student has
carried her off to the examining judge." "Listen to this," said the
usher, "they're always carrying her away from me. It's Sunday today, and
it's not part of my job to do any work today, but they send me off with
some message which isn't even necessary just to get me away from here.
What they do is they send me off not too far away so that I can still
hope to get back on time if I really hurry. So off I go running as fast
as I can, shout the message through the crack in the door of the office
I've been sent to, so out of breath they'll hardly be able to understand
it, run back here again, but the student's been even faster than I
have--well he's got less far to go, he's only got to run down the steps.
If I wasn't so dependent on them I'd have squashed the student against
the wall here a long time ago. Right here, next to the sign. I'm always
dreaming of doing that. Just here, just above the floor, that's where
he's crushed onto the wall, his arms stretched out, his fingers spread
apart, his crooked legs twisted round into a circle and blood squirted
out all around him. It's only ever been a dream so far, though." "Is
there nothing else you do?" asked K. with a smile. "Nothing that I know
of," said the usher. "And it's going to get even worse now, up till now
he's only been carrying her off for himself, now he's started carrying
her off for the judge and all, just like I'd always said he would."
"Does your wife, then, not share some of the responsibility?" asked K.
He had to force himself as he asked this question, as he, too, felt so
jealous now. "Course she does," said the usher, "it's more her fault
than theirs. It was her who attached herself to him. All he did, he just
chases after any woman. There's five flats in this block alone where
he's been thrown out after working his way in there. And my wife is the
best looking woman in the whole building, but it's me who's not even
allowed to defend himself." "If that's how things are, then there's
nothing that can be done," said K. "Well why not?" asked the usher.
"He's a coward that student, if he wants to lay a finger on my wife all
you'd have to do is give him such a good hiding he'd never dare do it
again. But I'm not allowed to do that, and nobody else is going to do me
the favour as they're all afraid of his power. The only one who could do
it is a man like you." "What, how could I do it?" asked K. in
astonishment. "Well you're facing a charge, aren't you," said the usher.
"Yes, but that's all the more reason for me to be afraid. Even if he has
no influence on the outcome of the trial he probably has some on the
initial examination." "Yes, exactly," said the usher, as if K.'s view
had been just as correct as his own. "Only we don't usually get any
trials heard here with no hope at all." "I am not of the same opinion,"
said K., "although that ought not to prevent me from dealing with the
student if the opportunity arises." "I would be very grateful to you,"
said the usher of the court, somewhat formally, not really seeming to
believe that his highest wish could be fulfilled. "Perhaps," continued
K., "perhaps there are some other officials of yours here, perhaps all
of them, who would deserve the same." "Oh yes, yes," said the usher, as
if this was a matter of course. Then he looked at K. trustingly which,
despite all his friendliness, he had not done until then, and added,
"they're always rebelling." But the conversation seemed to have become a
little uncomfortable for him, as he broke it off by saying, "now I have
to report to the office. Would you like to come with me?" "There's
nothing for me to do there," said K. "You'd be able to have a look at
it. No-one will take any notice of you." "Is it worth seeing then?"
asked K. hesitatingly, although he felt very keen to go with him.
"Well," said the usher, "I thought you'd be interested in it." "Alright
then," said K. finally, "I'll come with you." And, quicker than the
usher himself, he ran up the steps.

At the entrance he nearly fell over, as behind the door there was
another step. "They don't show much concern for the public," he said.
"They don't show any concern at all," said the usher, "just look at the
waiting room here." It consisted of a long corridor from which roughly
made doors led out to the separate departments of the attic. There was
no direct source of light but it was not entirely dark as many of the
departments, instead of solid walls, had just wooden bars reaching up to
the ceiling to separate them from the corridor. The light made its way
in through them, and it was also possible to see individual officials
through them as they sat writing at their desks or stood up at the
wooden frameworks and watched the people on the corridor through the
gaps. There were only a few people in the corridor, probably because it
was Sunday. They were not very impressive. They sat, equally spaced, on
two rows of long wooden benches which had been placed along both sides
of the corridor. All of them were carelessly dressed although the
expressions on their faces, their bearing, the style of their beards and
many details which were hard to identify showed that they belonged to
the upper classes. There were no coat hooks for them to use, and so they
had placed their hats under the bench, each probably having followed the
example of the others. When those who were sitting nearest the door saw
K. and the usher of the court they stood up to greet them, and when the
others saw that, they also thought they had to greet them, so that as
the two of them went by all the people there stood up. None of them
stood properly upright, their backs were bowed, their knees bent, they
stood like beggars on the street. K. waited for the usher, who was
following just behind him. "They must all be very dispirited," he said.
"Yes," said the usher, "they are the accused, everyone you see here has
been accused." "Really!" said K. "They're colleagues of mine then." And
he turned to the nearest one, a tall, thin man with hair that was nearly
grey. "What is it you are waiting for here?" asked K., politely, but the
man was startled at being spoken to unexpectedly, which was all the more
pitiful to see because the man clearly had some experience of the world
and elsewhere would certainly have been able to show his superiority and
would not have easily given up the advantage he had acquired. Here,
though, he did not know what answer to give to such a simple question
and looked round at the others as if they were under some obligation to
help him, and as if no-one could expect any answer from him without this
help. Then the usher of the court stepped forward to him and, in order
to calm him down and raise his spirits, said, "The gentleman here's only
asking what it is you're waiting for. You can give him an answer." The
voice of the usher was probably familiar to him, and had a better effect
than K.'s. "I'm ... I'm waiting...." he began, and then came to a halt.
He had clearly chosen this beginning so that he could give a precise
answer to the question, but now he didn't know how to continue. Some of
the others waiting had come closer and stood round the group, the usher
of the court said to them, "Get out the way, keep the gangway free."
They moved back slightly, but not as far as where they had been sitting
before. In the meantime, the man whom K. had first approached had pulled
himself together and even answered him with a smile. "A month ago I made
some applications for evidence to be heard in my case, and I'm waiting
for it to be settled." "You certainly seem to be going to a lot of
effort," said K. "Yes," said the man, "it is my affair after all." "Not
everyone thinks the same way as you do," said K. "I've been indicted as
well but I swear on my soul that I've neither submitted evidence nor
done anything else of the sort. Do you really think that's necessary?"
"I don't really know, exactly," said the man, once more totally unsure
of himself; he clearly thought K. was joking with him and therefore
probably thought it best to repeat his earlier answer in order to avoid
making any new mistakes. With K. looking at him impatiently, he just
said, "as far as I'm concerned, I've applied to have this evidence
heard." "Perhaps you don't believe I've been indicted?" asked K. "Oh,
please, I certainly do," said the man, stepping slightly to one side,
but there was more anxiety in his answer than belief. "You don't believe
me then?" asked K., and took hold of his arm, unconsciously prompted by
the man's humble demeanour, and as if he wanted to force him to believe
him. But he did not want to hurt the man and had only taken hold of him
very lightly. Nonetheless, the man cried out as if K. had grasped him
not with two fingers but with red hot tongs. Shouting in this ridiculous
way finally made K. tired of him, if he didn't believe he was indicted
then so much the better; maybe he even thought K. was a judge. And
before leaving, he held him a lot harder, shoved him back onto the bench
and walked on. "These defendants are so sensitive, most of them," said
the usher of the court. Almost all of those who had been waiting had now
assembled around the man who, by now, had stopped shouting and they
seemed to be asking him lots of precise questions about the incident. K.
was approached by a security guard, identifiable mainly by his sword, of
which the scabbard seemed to be made of aluminium. This greatly
surprised K., and he reached out for it with his hand. The guard had
come because of the shouting and asked what had been happening. The
usher of the court said a few words to try and calm him down but the
guard explained that he had to look into it himself, saluted, and
hurried on, walking with very short steps, probably because of gout.

K. didn't concern himself long with the guard or these people,
especially as he saw a turning off the corridor, about half way along
it on the right hand side, where there was no door to stop him going
that way. He asked the usher whether that was the right way to go, the
usher nodded, and that is the way that K. went. The usher remained
always one or two steps behind K., which he found irritating as in a
place like this it could give the impression that he was being driven
along by someone who had arrested him, so he frequently waited for the
usher to catch up, but the usher always remained behind him. In order to
put an end to his discomfort, K. finally said, "Now that I've seen what
it looks like here, I'd like to go." "You haven't seen everything yet,"
said the usher ingenuously. "I don't want to see everything," said K.,
who was also feeling very tired, "I want to go, what is the way to the
exit?" "You haven't got lost, have you?" asked the usher in amazement,
"you go down this way to the corner, then right down the corridor
straight ahead as far as the door." "Come with me," said K., "show me
the way, I'll miss it, there are so many different ways here." "It's the
only way there is," said the usher, who had now started to sound quite
reproachful, "I can't go back with you again, I've got to hand in my
report, and I've already lost a lot of time because of you as it is."
"Come with me!" K. repeated, now somewhat sharper as if he had finally
caught the usher out in a lie. "Don't shout like that," whispered the
usher, "there's offices all round us here. If you don't want to go back
by yourself come on a bit further with me or else wait here till I've
sorted out my report, then I'll be glad to go back with you again." "No,
no," said K., "I will not wait and you must come with me now." K. had
still not looked round at anything at all in the room where he found
himself, and it was only when one of the many wooden doors all around
him opened that he noticed it. A young woman, probably summoned by the
loudness of K.'s voice, entered and asked, "What is it the gentleman
wants?" In the darkness behind her there was also a man approaching. K.
looked at the usher. He had, after all, said that no-one would take any
notice of K., and now there were two people coming, it only needed a few
and everyone in the office would become aware of him and asking for
explanations as to why he was there. The only understandable and
acceptable thing to say was that he was accused of something and wanted
to know the date of his next hearing, but this was an explanation he did
not want to give, especially as it was not true--he had only come out of
curiosity. Or else, an explanation even less usable, he could say that
he wanted to ascertain that the court was as revolting on the inside as
it was on the outside. And it did seem that he had been quite right in
this supposition, he had no wish to intrude any deeper, he was disturbed
enough by what he had seen already, he was not in the right frame of
mind just then to face a high official such as might appear from behind
any door, and he wanted to go, either with the usher of the court or, if
needs be, alone.

But he must have seemed very odd standing there in silence, and the
young woman and the usher were indeed looking at him as if they thought
he would go through some major metamorphosis any second which they
didn't want to miss seeing. And in the doorway stood the man whom K. had
noticed in the background earlier, he held firmly on to the beam above
the low door swinging a little on the tips of his feet as if becoming
impatient as he watched. But the young woman was the first to recognise
that K.'s behaviour was caused by his feeling slightly unwell, she
brought a chair and asked, "Would you not like to sit down?" K. sat down
immediately and, in order to keep his place better, put his elbows on
the armrests. "You're a little bit dizzy, aren't you?" she asked him.
Her face was now close in front of him, it bore the severe expression
that many young women have just when they're in the bloom of their
youth. "It's nothing for you to worry about," she said, "that's nothing
unusual here, almost everyone gets an attack like that the first time
they come here. This is your first time is it. Yes, it's nothing unusual
then. The sun burns down on the roof and the hot wood makes the air so
thick and heavy. It makes this place rather unsuitable for offices,
whatever other advantages it might offer. But the air is almost
impossible to breathe on days when there's a lot of business, and that's
almost every day. And when you think that there's a lot of washing put
out to dry here as well--and we can't stop the tenants doing that--it's
not surprising you started to feel unwell. But you get used to the air
alright in the end. When you're here for the second or third time you'll
hardly notice how oppressive the air is. Are you feeling any better
now?" K. made no answer, he felt too embarrassed at being put at the
mercy of these people by his sudden weakness, and learning the reason
for feeling ill made him feel not better but a little worse. The girl
noticed it straight away, and to make the air fresher for K., she took a
window pole that was leaning against the wall and pushed open a small
hatch directly above K.'s head that led to the outside. But so much soot
fell in that the girl had to immediately close the hatch again and clean
the soot off K.'s hands with her handkerchief, as K. was too tired to do
that for himself. He would have liked just to sit quietly where he was
until he had enough strength to leave, and the less fuss people made
about him the sooner that would be. But then the girl said, "You can't
stay here, we're in people's way here...." K. looked at her as if to ask
whose way they were impeding. "If you like, I can take you to the sick
room," and turning to the man in the doorway said, "please help me." The
man immediately came over to them, but K. did not want to go to the sick
room, that was just what he wanted to avoid, being led further from
place to place, the further he went the more difficult it must become.
So he said, "I am able to walk now," and stood up, shaking after
becoming used to sitting so comfortably. But then he was unable to stay
upright. "I can't manage it," he said shaking his head, and sat down
again with a sigh. He remembered the usher who, despite everything,
would have been able to lead him out of there but who seemed to have
gone long before. K. looked out between the man and the young woman who
were standing in front of him but was unable to find the usher. "I
think," said the man, who was elegantly dressed and whose appearance was
made especially impressive with a grey waistcoat that had two long,
sharply tailored points, "the gentleman is feeling unwell because of the
atmosphere here, so the best thing, and what he would most prefer, would
be not to take him to the sick room but get him out of the offices
altogether." "That's right," exclaimed K., with such joy that he nearly
interrupted what the man was saying, "I'm sure that'll make me feel
better straight away, I'm really not that weak, all I need is a little
support under my arms, I won't cause you much trouble, it's not such a
long way anyway, lead me to the door and then I'll sit on the stairs for
a while and soon recover, as I don't suffer from attacks like this at
all, I'm surprised at it myself. I also work in an office and I'm quite
used to office air, but here it seems to be too strong, you've said so
yourselves. So please, be so kind as to help me on my way a little, I'm
feeling dizzy, you see, and it'll make me ill if I stand up by myself."
And with that he raised his shoulders to make it easier for the two of
them to take him by the arms.

The man, however, didn't follow this suggestion but just stood there
with his hands in his trouser pockets and laughed out loud. "There, you
see," he said to the girl, "I was quite right. The gentleman is only
unwell here, and not in general." The young woman smiled too, but
lightly tapped the man's arm with the tips of her fingers as if he had
allowed himself too much fun with K. "So what do you think, then?" said
the man, still laughing, "I really do want to lead the gentleman out of
here." "That's alright, then," said the girl, briefly inclining her
charming head. "Don't worry too much about him laughing," said the girl
to K., who had become unhappy once more and stared quietly in front of
himself as if needing no further explanation. "This gentleman--may I
introduce you?"--(the man gave his permission with a wave of the
hand)--"so, this gentleman's job is to give out information. He gives
all the information they need to people who are waiting, as our court
and its offices are not very well known among the public he gets asked
for quite a lot. He has an answer for every question, you can try him
out if you feel like it. But that's not his only distinction, his other
distinction is his elegance of dress. We, that's to say all of us who
work in the offices here, we decided that the information-giver would
have to be elegantly dressed as he continually has to deal with the
litigants and he's the first one they meet, so he needs to give a
dignified first impression. The rest of us I'm afraid, as you can see
just by looking at me, dress very badly and old-fashioned; and there's
not much point in spending much on clothes anyway, as we hardly ever
leave the offices, we even sleep here. But, as I said, we decided that
the information-giver would have to have nice clothes. As the management
here is rather peculiar in this respect, and they would get them for us,
we had a collection--some of the litigants contributed too--and bought
him these lovely clothes and some others besides. So everything would be
ready for him to give a good impression, except that he spoils it again
by laughing and frightening people." "That's how it is," said the man,
mocking her, "but I don't understand why it is that you're explaining
all our intimate facts to the gentleman, or rather why it is that you're
pressing them on him, as I'm sure he's not all interested. Just look at
him sitting there, it's clear he's occupied with his own affairs." K.
just did not feel like contradicting him. The girl's intention may have
been good, perhaps she was under instructions to distract him or to give
him the chance to collect himself, but the attempt had not worked. "I
had to explain to him why you were laughing," said the girl. "I suppose
it was insulting." "I think he would forgive even worse insults if I
finally took him outside." K. said nothing, did not even look up, he
tolerated the two of them negotiating over him like an object, that was
even what suited him best. But suddenly he felt the information-giver's
hand on one arm and the young woman's hand on the other. "Up you get
then, weakling," said the information-giver. "Thank you both very much,"
said K., pleasantly surprised, as he slowly rose and personally guided
these unfamiliar hands to the places where he most needed support. As
they approached the corridor, the girl said quietly into K.'s ear, "I
must seem to think it's very important to show the information-giver in
a good light, but you shouldn't doubt what I say, I just want to say the
truth. He isn't hard-hearted. It's not really his job to help litigants
outside if they're unwell but he's doing it anyway, as you can see. I
don't suppose any of us is hard-hearted, perhaps we'd all like to be
helpful, but working for the court offices it's easy for us to give the
impression we are hard-hearted and don't want to help anyone. It makes
me quite sad." "Would you not like to sit down here a while?" asked the
information-giver, there were already in the corridor and just in front
of the defendant whom K. had spoken to earlier. K. felt almost ashamed
to be seen by him, earlier he had stood so upright in front of him and
now he had to be supported by two others, his hat was held up by the
information-giver balanced on outstretched fingers, his hair was
dishevelled and hung down onto the sweat on his forehead. But the
defendant seemed to notice nothing of what was going on and just stood
there humbly, as if wanting to apologise to the information-giver for
being there. The information-giver looked past him. "I know," he said,
"that my case can't be settled today, not yet, but I've come in anyway,
I thought, I thought I could wait here anyway, it's Sunday today, I've
got plenty of time, and I'm not disturbing anyone here." "There's no
need to be so apologetic," said the information-giver, "it's very
commendable for you to be so attentive. You are taking up space here
when you don't need to but as long as you don't get in my way I will do
nothing to stop you following the progress of your case as closely as
you like. When one has seen so many people who shamefully neglect their
cases one learns to show patience with people like you. Do sit down."
"He's very good with the litigants," whispered the girl. K. nodded, but
started to move off again when the information-giver repeated, "Would
you not like to sit down here a while?" "No," said K., "I don't want to
rest." He had said that as decisively as he could, but in fact it would
have done him a lot of good to sit down. It was as if he were suffering
sea-sickness. He felt as if he were on a ship in a rough sea, as if the
water were hitting against the wooden walls, a thundering from the
depths of the corridor as if the torrent were crashing over it, as if
the corridor were swaying and the waiting litigants on each side of it
rising and sinking. It made the calmness of the girl and the man leading
him all the more incomprehensible. He was at their mercy, if they let go
of him he would fall like a board. Their little eyes glanced here and
there, K. could feel the evenness of their steps but could not do the
same, as from step to step he was virtually being carried. He finally
noticed they were speaking to him but he did not understand them, all he
heard was a noise that filled all the space and through which there
seemed to be an unchanging higher note sounding, like a siren. "Louder,"
he whispered with his head sunk low, ashamed at having to ask them to
speak louder when he knew they had spoken loudly enough, even if it had
been, for him, incomprehensible. At last, a draught of cool air blew in
his face as if a gap had been torn out in the wall in front of him, and
next to him he heard someone say, "First he says he wants to go, and
then you can tell him a hundred times that this is the way out and he
doesn't move." K. became aware that he was standing in front of the way
out, and that the young woman had opened the door. It seemed to him that
all his strength returned to him at once, and to get a foretaste of
freedom he stepped straight on to one of the stairs and took his leave
there of his companions, who bowed to him. "Thank you very much," he
repeated, shook their hands once more and did not let go until he
thought he saw that they found it hard to bear the comparatively fresh
air from the stairway after being so long used to the air in the
offices. They were hardly able to reply, and the young woman might even
have fallen over if K. had not shut the door extremely fast. K. then
stood still for a while, combed his hair with the help of a pocket
mirror, picked up his hat from the next stair--the information-giver
must have thrown it down there--and then he ran down the steps so fresh
and in such long leaps that the contrast with his previous state nearly
frightened him. His normally sturdy state of health had never prepared
him for surprises such as this. Did his body want to revolt and cause
him a new trial as he was bearing the old one with such little effort?
He did not quite reject the idea that he should see a doctor the next
time he had the chance, but whatever he did--and this was something on
which he could advise himself--he wanted to spend all Sunday mornings in
future better than he had spent this one.