The Castle (37 page)

They sit beside you before the fire in nothing but their shifts, I've been told, and when anybody comes to fetch you they spit at him. You must feel at home there, since the place attracts you so much. I've always tried to keep you from going there, with little success, but all the same I've tried. All that's past now, you are free. You've a lovely life in front of you. For the one you'll perhaps have to squabble a little with the servants, but as for the other, there's nobody in heaven or earth that will grudge you her. The union is blessed beforehand. Don't deny it, I know you can disprove anything, but in the end nothing is disproved. Only think, Jeremiah, he has disproved everything!"

They nodded with a smile of mutual understanding.

"But," Frieda went on, "even if everything were disproved, what would be gained by that, what would it matter to me? What happens in that house is purely their business and his business, not mine. Mine is to nurse you till you're well again, as you were at one time, before K. tormented you for my sake."

"So you're not coming in after all, Surveyor?" asked Jeremiah, but was now definitely away by Frieda, who did not even turn to look at K. in.

There was a little door down there, still lower than the joors in the passage - not Jeremiah only, even Frieda had to stoop on entering - within it seemed to be bright and warm, a few whispers were audible, probably loving cajolements to get Jeremiah to bed, then the door was closed.

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The text of the first German edition of The Castle ends. It has been translated by Willa and Edwin Mttir. What follows is the continuation of the text together with additional material (different versions, fragments, passages deleted by the author, etc.) as found among Kafka's papers after the publication of the first edition and included by the editor, Max Brod, in the definitive German edition. The translation is by Eithne Willins and Ernst

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Only now did K. notice how quiet it had become in the passage, not only here in this part of the passage wher he had been with Frieda, and which seemed to belong to the public rooms of the inn, but also in the long passage with the rooms that had earlier been so full of bustle. So the gentlemen had gone to sleep at last after all K. too was very tired, perhaps it was from fatigue that he had not stood up to Jeremiah as he should have. It would perhaps have been more prudent to take his cue from Jeremiah, who was obviously exaggerating how bad his chill was - his woefulness was not caused by his having a chill, it was congenital and could not be relieved by any herbal tea - to take his cue entirely from Jeremiah, make a similar display of his own really great fatigue, sink down here in the passage, which would in itself afford much relief, sleep a little, and then perhaps be nursed a little too. Only it would not have worked out as favourably as with Jeremiah, who would certainly have won this competition for sympathy, and rightly so, probably, and obviously every other fight too. K. was so tired that he wondered whether he might not try to go into one of these rooms, some of which were sure to be empty, and have a good sleep in a luxurious bed. In his view this might turn out to be recompense for many things. He also had a night-cap handy. On the tray that Frieda had left on the floor there had been a small decanter of rum. K, did not shrink from the exertion of making his way back, and he drained the little bottle to the dregs. Now he at least felt strong enough to go before Erlanger. He looked for the door of Erlanger's room, but since the servant and Gerstacker were no longer to be seen and all the doors looked alike, he could not find it. Yet he believed he remembered more or less in what part of the passage the door had been, and decided to open a door that in his opinion was probably the one he was looking for.

The experiment could not be so very dangerous. If it was Erlanger's room Erlanger would doubtless receive him, if it was somebody else's room it would be possible to apologize and go away again, and if he was asleep, which was what was probable, then K.'s visit not be noticed at all. It could turn out badly only if the was empty, for then K. would scarcely be able to resist the teptation to get into the bed and sleep for ages.

He once more glanced along the passage to right and to left, to see whether after all there might not be somebody coming who would be able to give him some information and make the venture unnecessary, but the long passage was quiet and empty. Then K. listened at the door. Here too was no inmate. He knocked so quietly that it could not have wakened a sleeper, and when even now nothing happened he opened the door very cautiously indeed.

But now he was met with a faint scream. It was a small room, more than half filled by a wide bed, on the night-table the electric lamp was burning, beside it was a travelling handbag. In the bed, but completely hidden under the quilt, someone stirred uneasily and whispered through a gap between quilt and sheet: "Who is it?"

Now K. could not withdraw again so easily, discontentedly he surveyed the voluptuous but unfortunately not empty bed, then remembered the question and gave his name. This seemed to have a good effect, the man in the bed pulled the quilt a little off his face, anxiously ready, however, to cover himself up again completely if something was not quite all right out there. But then he flung back the quilt without qualms and sat up. It was certainly not Erlanger. It was a small, well-looking gentleman whose face had a certain contradictoriness in that the cheeks were chubby as a child's and the eyes merry as a child's, but that the high forehead, the pointed nose, the narrow mouth, the lips of which would scarcely remain closed, the almost vanishing chin, were not like a child's at all, but revealed superior intellect. It was doubtless his satisfaction with this, his satisfaction with himself, that had preserved him a marked residue of something healthily childlike.

"Do you know Friedrich?" he asked.

K. said he did not.

"But he knows you," the gentleman said, smiling.

K. nodded, there was no lack of people who knew him, this was indeed one of the main obstacles in his way.

"I am his secretary,' the gentleman said, "my name is Burgel."

"Excuse me," K. said, reaching for the door-handle, "I am sorry, I mistook your door for other. The fact is I have been summoned to Secretary Erlanger`s"

"What a pity," Burgel said. "Not that you are summoned here, but that you made a mistake about the doors. The fact is once I am wakened I am quite certain not to go to sleep again. Still, that need not sadden you so much, it's my personal misfortune. Why, anyway, can't these doors be locked, eh? There's a reason for that, of course. Because, according to an old saying the secretaries' doors should always be open. But that, again need not be taken quite so literally."

Burgel looked queryingly and merrily at K., in contrast to his lament he seemed thoroughly well rested. Burgel had doubtessly never in his life been as tired as K. was now.

"Where do you think of going now?" Burgel asked. "It's four o'clock. Anyone to whom you might think of going you would have to wake, not everybody is as used to being disturbed as I am, not everyone will put up with it as tolerantly, the secretaries are a nervous species. So stay for a little while. Round about five o'clock people here begin to get up, then you will be best able to answer your summons. So please do let go of the door-handle now and sit down somewhere, granted there isn't overmuch room here, it will be best if you sit here on the edge of the bed. You are surprised that I should have neither chair nor table here? Well, I had the choice of getting either a completely furnished room with a narrow hotel bed, or this big bed and nothing else except the washstand. I chose the big bed, after all, in a bedroom the bed is undoubtedly the main thing! Ah, for anyone who could stretch out and sleep soundly, for a sound sleeper, this bed would surely be truly delicious. But even for me, perpetually tired as I am without being able to sleep, it is a blessing, I spend a large part of the day in it, deal with all my correspondence in it, here conduct all the interviews with applicants. It works quite well. Of course the applicants have nowhere to sit, but they get over that, and after all it's more agreeable for them too if they stand and the recorder is at ease than if they sit cornfortably and get barked at. So the only place I have to offer is this here on the edge of the bed, but that is not an official place and is only intended for nocturnal conversations. But you are quiet, Land Surveyor?"

"I am very tired," said K., who on receiving the invitation had instantly, rudely, without respect, sat down on the bed and leaned against the post.

"Of course," Burgelsaid, laughing, "everybody is tired here. The work, for instance, that I got through yesterday and have already got through even to-day is no small matter.

It's completely out of the question of course that I should go to sleep now, but if this most utterly unprobable thing should happen after all and I should go to sleep while you are still here, then please stay quiet and don't open the door, either. But don't worry, I shall certainly not go to sleep or at best only for a few minutes. The way it is with me is that probably because I am so very used to dealing with applicants I do actually find it easiest to go to sleep when I have company."

"Do go to sleep, please do, Mr Secretary," K. said, pleased at this announcement, "I shall then, with your permission, sleep a little too."

"No, no," Burgel said, laughing again, "unfortunately I can't go to sleep merely on being invited to do so, it's only in the course of conversation that the opportunity may arise, it's most likely to be a conversation that puts me to sleep. Yes, one's nerves suffer in our business. I, for instance, am a liaison secretary. You don't know what that is? Well, I constitute the strongest liaison" - here he hastily rubbed his hands in involuntary merriment - "between Friedrich and the village, I constitute the liaison between his Castle and village secretaries, am mostly in the village, but not permanently. At every moment I must be prepared to drive up to the Castle. You see the travelling-bag - a restless life, not suitable for everyone. On the other hand it is true that now I could not do without this kind of work, all other work would seem insipid to me. And how do things stand with the land-surveying?"

"I am not doing any such work, I am not being employed as a Land Surveyor," K. said, he was not really giving his mind to the matter, actually he was only yearning for Burgel to fall asleep, but even this was only out of a certain sense of duty towards himself, in his heart of hearts he was sure that the moment when Burgel would go to sleep was still infinitely remote.

"That is amazing,' Burgel said with a lively jerk of his head, and pulled a note-pad out from under the quilt in order to make a note.

"You are a Land Surveyor and have no land-surveying to do."

K. mechanically, he had stretched out his left arm along the top the bed-post and laid his head on it, he had already tried various ways of making himself comfortable, but this position was th most comfortable of all, and now, too, he could attend a little better to what Burgel was saying.

"I am prepared," Burgel continued, "to follow up this matter further. With us here things are quite certainly not in such a way that an expert employee should be left unused. And it must after all be painful to you too. Doesn't it cause you distress?"

"It causes me distress," K. said slowly and smiled to himself, for just now it was not distressing him in the least. Besides, Burgel's offer made little impression on him. It was utterly dilettante. Without knowing anything of the circumstances under which K.'s appointment had come about, of the difficulties that it encountered in the community and at the Castle, of the complications that had already occurred during K.'s sojourn here or had been foreshadowed, without knowing anything of all this, indeed without even showing, what should have been expected of a secretary as a matter of course, that he had at least an inkling of it all, he offered to settle the whole affair up there in no time at all with the aid of his little note-pad.

"You seem to have had some disappointments," Burgel said, by this remark showing that he had after all some knowledge of human nature, and indeed, since entering the room, K.

had from time to time reminded himself not to underestimate Burgel but in his state it was difficult to form a fair judgement of anything but his own weariness.

"No," Burgel said, as if he were answering a thought of K.'s and were considerately trying to save him the effort of formulating it aloud.

"You must not let yourself be frightened off by disappointments. Much here does seem to be arranged in such a way as to frighten people off, and when one is newly arrived here the obstacles do appear to be completely insurmountable. I don't want to inquire into what all this really amounts to, perhaps the appearance does really correspond to the reality, in my position I lack the right detachment to come to a conclusion about that, but pay attention, there are sometimes after all opportunities that are almost not in accord with the general situation, opportunities in which by means of a glance, a sign of trust, more can be achieved than by means of lifelong exhausting efforts.

Indeed, that is how it is.

Good, then again, of course, these opportunities are in accord with the general situation in so far as they are never made use of. But why then are they never made use of? I ask time and again."

K. did not know why.

He did certainly realize that what Burgel was talking about probably concerned him closely, but he now felt a great dislike of everything that concerned him, he shifted his head a little to one side as though in this manner he were making way for Burgel's questions and could no longer be touched by them.

"It is," Burgel continued, stretching his arms and yawning, which was in bewildering contradiction to the gravity of his words, "it is a constant complaint of the secretaries that they are compelled to carry out most of the village interrogations by night.