Jan gave no answer. He had hunched up his shoulders as though he
were bitterly cold. Bewildered and undecided, he listened to the
intermediate rolling of the organ.
“Let us go!” he said tonelessly, turning around. Freder followed him.
They left the cathedral. They walked along together in silence for a
long time. Jan seemed to have a destination of which Freder did not
know. He did not ask. He waited. He was thinking of his dream and of
the monk’s words.
At last Jan opened his mouth; but he did not look at Freder, he spoke
into space:
“You do not know who she is.... But nobody knows.... She was suddenly
there.... As a fire breaks out.... No one can say who fanned the
flame.... But there it is, and now everything is ablaze....”
“A woman...?”
“Yes. A woman. Perhaps a maid, too. I don’t know. It is inconceivable
that this being would give herself to a man ... (Can you imagine the
marriage of ice?) ... Or if she were to do so, then she would raise
herself up from the man’s arms, bright and cool, in the awful, eternal
virginity of the soulless....”
He raised his hand and seized his throat. He tugged something away from
him which was not there. He was looking at a house which lay opposite
him, on the other side of the street, with a gaze of superstitious
hostility, which made his hands run cold.
“What is the matter with you?” asked Freder. There was nothing
remarkable about this house, except that it lay next to Rotwang’s house.
“Hush!” answered Jan, clasping his fingers around Freder’s wrist.
“Are you mad?” Freder stared at his friend. “Do you think that the
house can hear us across this infernal street?”
“It hears us!” said Jan, with an obstinate expression. “It hears us!
You think it is a house just like any other? You’re wrong.... It began
in this house....”
“What began?”
“The spirit....”
Freder felt that his throat was very dry. He cleared it vigorously. He
wanted to draw his friend along with him. But he resisted him. He stood
at the parapet of the street, which sheered down, steep as a gorge, and
he was staring at the house opposite.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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