Thea Harbou - Metropolis

"But it surprised me more than all to find him here, in the cathedral, for he had been, all his life long, the greatest of scoffers."

"I laid my hand on his shoulder. He did not start. He only just turned his eyes — those parched eyes."

"I wanted to ask him: 'What are you doing here, Jan?' But the voice of the monk, that awful, spear-hurling voice, threw its sharpness between him and me… The monk Desertus began to preach… "

Freder turned around and came to Josaphat with violent haste, as though a sudden fear had taken him. He sat down by his friend, speaking very rapidly, with words which tumbled over each other in streaming out.

At first he had hardly listened to the monk. He had watched his friend, and the congregation which was still kneeling, head pressed to head. And, as he looked at them, it seemed to him as though the monk were harpooning the congregation with his words, as though he were throwing spears, with deadly, barbed hooks, right down into the most secret soul of the listeners, as though he were tugging groaning souls out of bodies, quivering with fear.

"Who is she, who has laid fire to this city? She is herself a flame — an impure flame. You were given of a brand, might. She is a fiery blaze over man. She is Lilith, Astarte, Rose of Hell. She is Gomorrha, Babylon — Metropolis! Your own city — this fruitful, sinful City! — has born this woman from out the womb of its hell. Behold her! I say unto you: Behold her! She is the woman who is to appear before the judgment of the world."

"He who has ears to hear, let him hear."

"Seven angels shall stand before God, and there shall be given unto them seven trumpets. And the seven angels, which have the seven trumpets, shall prepare themselves to sound. A star shall fall from heaven to earth and there shall be given up the key to the pit of the abyss. And it shall open the pit of the abyss and there shall go up a smoke out of the pit as the smoke of a great furnace; and the sun and the air shall be darkened by reason of the smoke of the pit. And an angel shall fly in mid heaven, saying with a great voice: 'Woe, woe, woe, for them that dwell on the earth!' And another angel shall follow after him and shall say: 'Fallen, fallen, is Babylon the great!'"

"Seven angels come out from the heavens, and they hear in their hands the bowls of the wrath of God. And Babylon the great will be remembered in the sight of God, to give unto her the cup of the wine of the fierceness of His wrath — she who is sitting there upon a scarlet-coloured beast full of the names of blasphemy, having seven heads and ten horns. And the woman is arrayed in purple and scarlet, decked with gold and precious stones and pearls, having in her hand a golden cup, full of abominations and unclean things. And upon her forehead a name is written: Mystery… Babylon the Great… The Mother of Harlots and of the Abominations of the Earth."

"He who has ears to hear, let him hear! For the woman whom ye see is the great city, which reignest over the kings of the earth. Come forth, my people, out of her, that he have no fellowship with her sins! For her sins have reached even unto heaven, and God has remembered her iniquities!

"Woe, woe, the great city, Babylon, the strong city! For in one hour is thy judgment come! In one hour shalt thou be made desolate. Rejoice over her, thou heaven, and ye saints, and ye apostles; for God will judge your judgment on her. And a strong angel takes up a stone and casts it into the sea, saying: Thus with a mighty fall, shall Babylon the great city be cast down, and shall be found no more at all!"

"He who has ears to hear, let him hear! The woman who is called Babylon, the Mother of the Abominations of the Earth, wanders as a blazing brand through Metropolis. No wall and no gate bids her halt. No tie is sacred. An oath turns to mockery before her. Her smile is the last seduction. Blasphemy is her dance. She is the flame which says: 'God is very wrath.' Woe unto the city in which she shall appear!" Freder bent across to Jan.

"Of whom is he speaking?" he asked, with strangely cold lips. "Is he speaking of a person?… of a woman?… " He saw that the brow of his friend was covered with sweat. "He is speaking of her," said Jan, as though he were speaking with paralysed tongue. "Of whom?"

"Of her… don't you know her?" "I don't know," said Freder, "whom you mean… " And his tongue, too, was heavy, and as though made of clay.

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.

"One day," he said, "this house sent out invitations to all its neighbours. It was the craziest invitation on earth. There was nothing on the card but: 'Come this evening at ten o'clock! House 12, 113th Street!' One took the whole thing to be a joke. But one went. One did not wish to miss the fun. Strangely enough no one knew the house. Nobody could remember ever having entered it, or having known anything of its occupants. One turned up at ten. One was well dressed. One entered the house and found a big party. One was received by an old man, who was exceedingly polite, but who shook hands with nobody. It was an odd thing that all the people collected here seemed to be waiting for something, of which they did not know. One was well waited upon by servants, who seemed to be born mutes, and who never raised their eyes. Although the room in which we were all gathered was as large as the nave of a church, an unbearable heat prevailed, as though the floor were glowing hot, as though the walls, were glowing hot, and all this in spite of the fact that, as one could see, the wide door leading to the street stood open.

"Suddenly one of the servants came up from the door to our host, with soundless step, and seemed wordlessly, with his silent presence, to give him some information. Our host inquired: 'Are we all met?' The servant inclined his head. "Then close the door." It was done. The servants swept aside and lined themselves up. Our host stepped into the middle of the great room. At the same moment so perfect a silence prevailed that one heard the noise of the street roaring like breakers against the walls of the house.