The Trial (Wisehouse Classics Edition). Franz Kafka

on the collars of their coats. As far as he could see, every one of them was wearing one of these badges. All of them belonged to the same group, even though they seemed to be divided to the right and the left of him, and when he suddenly turned round he saw the same badge on the collar of the examining judge who calmly looked down at him with his hands in his lap. “So,” called out K, throwing his arms in the air as if this sudden realisation needed more room, “all of you are working for this organisation, I see now that you are all the very bunch of cheats and liars I’ve just been speaking about, you’ve all pressed yourselves in here in order to listen in and snoop on me, you gave the impression of having formed into factions, one of you even applauded me to test me out, and you wanted to learn how to trap an innocent man! Well, I hope you haven’t come here for nothing, I hope you’ve either had some fun from someone who expected you to defend his innocence or else—let go of me or I’ll hit you,” shouted K. to a quivery old man who had pressed himself especially close to him— “or else that you’ve actually learned something. And so I wish you good luck in your trade.” He briskly took his hat from where it lay on the edge of the table and, surrounded by a silence caused perhaps by the completeness of their surprise, pushed his way to the exit. However, the examining judge seems to have moved even more quickly than K., as he was waiting for him at the doorway. “One moment,” he said. K. stood where he was, but looked at the door with his hand already on its handle rather than at the judge. “I merely wanted to draw your attention,” said the judge, “to something you seem not yet to be aware of: today, you have robbed yourself of the advantages that a hearing of this sort always gives to someone who is under arrest.” K. laughed towards the door. “You bunch of louts,” he called, “you can keep all your hearings as a present from me,” then opened the door and hurried down the steps. Behind him, the noise of the assembly rose as it became lively once more and probably began to discuss these events as if making a scientific study of them.

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Chapter ThreeIn the empty Courtroom — The Student —The Offices