“The woman arose. She touched the cross-arched vault of the lofty cathedral with her crown. She seized the hem of her cloak and opened it. And spread out her cloak with both hands … Then one saw that the golden cloak was embroidered with the images of manifold demons. Beings with women’s bodies and snakes’ heads—beings half bull, half angel—devils adorned with crowns, human faced lions.
“The flute song of Death was silenced. But the fellow in the pulpit raised his yelling voice:
“ ‘Repent! The kingdom of heaven is at hand!’
“The church-clock was still hammering the wild twelve-time of midnight.
“The woman looked Death in the face. She opened her mouth. She said to Death: ‘Go!’
“Then Death hung the flute on his girdle, by the hourglass, took the scythe down from his shoulder and went. He went through the cathedral and went out of the cathedral. And from the cloak of the great Babylon, the demons freed themselves, come to life, and flew after Death.
“Death went down the steps of the cathedral, into the town; black birds with human faces rustling around him. He raised the scythe as if indicating the way. Then they divided themselves and swooped apart. The broad wings darkened the moon.
“Death flung back his wide cloak. He stretched himself up and grew. He grew much taller even than the houses of Metropolis. The highest hardly reached to his knee.
“Death swung his scythe and made a whistling cut. The earth and all the stars quivered. But the scythe did not seem to be sharp enough for him. He looked about him as though seeking a seat. The New Tower of Babel seemed to suit Death. He sat down on the New Tower of Babel, propped up the scythe took the whetstone from his girdle, spat on it and began to whet the scythe Blue sparks flew out of the steel. Then Death arose and made a second blow. A rain of stars poured down from the sky.
“Death nodded with satisfaction, turned around and set off, on his way through the great Metropolis.”
XI
“Yes,” said Josaphat hoarsely, “but that was a dream …”
“Of course it was a dream … And they say dreams are bubbles, don’t they? But just listen to this, Josaphat … I emerged from this dream back into reality with a feeling of sadness, which seemed to hack me, as with a knife, from head to foot. I saw Maria’s brow, that white temple of goodness and virginity, besmirched with the name of the great harlot of Babylon. I saw her send Death out over the city. I saw how abominations upon abominations loosened themselves from about her and fluttered away, swarming through the city—plague spirits, messengers of evil before the path of Death. I stood out there and looked over at the cathedral, which seemed to me to be desecrated and soiled. Its doors stood open. Dark, human snakes were creeping into the cathedral, and collecting themselves upon the steps. I thought: Perhaps, among all those pious people, is my Maria too … I said to my father: ‘I wish to go to the cathedral …’ He let me go. I was no captive. As I reached the cathedral the organ was thundering like the Trump of Doom. Singing from a thousand throats. ‘Dies Irae’ … The incense clouded above the head of the multitude, which was kneeling before the eternal God. The crucifix hovered above the high altar, and, in the light of the restless candles, the drops of blood on the thorn-crowned brow of the son of Mary seemed to come to life, to run. The saints in the pillar-niches looked at me sadly, as though they knew of my evil dream.
“I sought Maria. Oh, I knew quite well that all the thousands could not hide her from me. If she were here I should find her out, as a bird finds its way to its nest. But my heart lay as if dead in my breast. Yet I could not help looking for her. I wandered about the place where I had already waited for her once before … Yes—so may a bird wander about the place where was its nest which it cannot find again, because the lightning or the storm has destroyed it.
“And, when I came to the side-niche, in which Death stands, as a minstrel, playing upon a human bone, the niche was empty, Death had disappeared …
“It was as though the Death of my dream had not returned home to his following …
“Do not speak, Josaphat! It is really of no importance … a coincidence … The carving was, perhaps, damaged—I do not know! Believe me: it is of no importance.
“But now a voice yelled out:
“ ‘Repent! The kingdom of heaven is at hand!’
“It was the voice of Desertus, the monk. His voice was like a knife. The voice peeled bare my spine. Deathly stillness reigned in the church. Among all the thousands round about, not one seemed to breathe They were kneeling and their faces, pale masks of horror, were turned towards the preacher.
“His voice flew through the air like a spear.
“ ‘Repent! The kingdom of heaven is at hand!’
“Before me, by a pillar, stood a young man, once a fellow member of mine, of the ‘Club of the Sons.’ If I had not personally experienced how vastly human faces can change, in a short time, I should not have recognised him.
“He was older than I, and was, it is true, not the happiest of us all, but the gayest. And the women loved him and feared him equally, for he was in no way to be captivated, either by laughter or by tears. Now he had the thousand-year-old face of men, who, yet living, are dead. It was as if a cruel executioner had removed his eyelids, that he was condemned never to sleep, so that he was perishing of weariness.
“But it surprised me more than all to find him here, in the cathedral, for he had been, all his life long, the greatest
