Chapter 2 Second trial

K. was informed by telephone that there would be a short hearing in his case next Sunday.He was mindful of the fact that from now on the interrogations would take place one after the other with regularity, maybe not weekly, with shorter and shorter intervals in between as time went on.On the one hand, it would be in everyone's interest to get the case out of the way early; but on the other hand, the trial should be thorough and comprehensive, though not too long, as it would be tiring.It is for this reason that the high-frequency, yet short-lived interrogation format was chosen.The day of the trial was chosen on a Sunday in order not to interfere with K's business work.Presumably he would agree to this arrangement, however, if he preferred other days, they would go out of their way to accommodate his wishes.For example, the interrogation could also take place at night, although K. might not be so clear-headed at night.In short, if K. does not object, they will be waiting for him on Sunday.Of course, he must be present, which is self-evident and needs no further reminder.He got the house number of the place he was supposed to go to, a house on a suburban street that he had never been to.

When K was informed by the telephone, he put down the receiver without answering; he decided that it was absolutely necessary to be on time for the appointment on Sunday.There was progress in the case, and he had to fight for it; the first trial had to be made the last.While he was standing by the telephone, lost in thought, he suddenly heard the voice of the deputy manager behind him; the deputy manager wanted to make a call, but found K. in his way. "Is it bad news?" the assistant manager asked casually. He didn't really want to know anything, but was anxious to get K away from the phone. "No, no," said K., asking aside, but not moving away.The deputy manager picked up the receiver, took advantage of the fact that the phone was not connected, turned to K and said: "Hey, I have something to tell you, Mr. K. On Sunday morning, I invited some people to go out on my yacht. Would you like to come along? There are a lot of people, and there will undoubtedly be friends of yours. For example, Mr. Hastler, the lawyer. Are you coming? Come!" K. listened to what the assistant manager was saying.This was not inconsequential to him, since he had never been on good terms with the deputy manager, and the fact that the deputy manager extended an invitation to him was a friendly beginning, showing that K. had become an important person in the bank to the point that The bank's second in command also valued his friendship and at least expected him to take a neutral stance.It is true that the deputy manager has condescended to do so, although this invitation was only made casually when the phone was not connected.But K wanted the assistant manager to condescend a second time, because he said: "Thank you very much. But I'm sorry, I'm not free on Sunday, I have an appointment with someone else." "It's a pity," said the assistant manager.The phone was connected just in time, and he turned his face to make a call.He talked for a long time, and K. stood by the telephone all the while, distraught. Before the deputy manager hung up the phone, K. justified himself for wasting time aimlessly here; Tell me what time to go." "Then you can make another phone call and ask," said the deputy manager. "It's not very important," said K.; and by saying this he made the already flimsy excuse even more unbelievable.When the deputy manager turned to leave, he continued to express his opinions on other matters. K. reluctantly replied, but what he was thinking was that it would be best to be there at nine o'clock on Sunday morning, because the courts always sit at nine o'clock.

The weather was overcast on Sunday. K. was very tired, because he had gone to bed late the night before at a celebration in the dining room, and almost overslept. K. didn't have time to think about or adjust the plan he had planned for a week, put on his clothes in a hurry, and rushed to the designated place in the suburbs without breakfast.It was very strange that although he had no time to look at the passers-by, he saw the three clerks who had already intervened in his case.They are Raben Steiner, Kulishi and Kaminel.The first two passed him in a tram; but Carminel, who was sitting on the terrace of a café, leaned over the railing and looked at him questioningly as K. passed by. .All three of them seem to be paying attention to him, trying to figure out where their boss is busy.A defiance made K. decide not to go there by car; he did not want to trouble anyone, not even the most irrelevant outsider, to help him in the case, he did not want to benefit anyone, he did not want anyone Nobody even asked him a little bit about his case.The last thing he wants is to be perfect, arrive on time, and even lower his status in front of the interrogation committee.Nevertheless he hastened his pace, hoping to arrive at nine o'clock, although no exact time was given for him.

There must be some sign of the house, he thought, or the bustle of the front door, recognizable from a distance; but what sign was beyond his imagination.The houses on both sides of Julius Street were almost identical, all gray buildings inhabited by poor people; he was told on the phone that the house was located on Julius Street.He stopped for a while on the street.Because it was Sunday morning, there were people at most of the windows, men in shirtsleeves leaning against the windows to smoke, or carefully supporting children sitting on the window sill.Some of the windows were covered with quilts, and occasionally a shaggy-haired woman's head would emerge from above the quilts.People shouted to each other across the street; someone shouted just above K.'s head, and there was a burst of laughter.At intervals on either side of the street there are small grocery stores; these shops are located below the street level, with a short set of stone steps leading to the street.Women squeezed in and out of these shops, or chirped on the stone steps outside.A mobile fruit seller was hawking to someone standing at one of the upstairs windows, yelling and walking forward, as absent-minded as K.; his cart nearly knocked K down.An old record player that had been used for a long time in one of the nicer neighborhoods of the city began to squeal.

K. walked slowly along the street, getting further and further away; he seemed to have plenty of time now, and the examining magistrate might lean out of a window and find him walking along the road.It was a little past nine o'clock.It took him a long time to walk along the road to the house; it was an unusually large house with a very high and wide gate that must have been for trucks to come in and out of.The inner courtyard was surrounded by warehouses with nameplates on the doors, some of which K had seen in the bank's account books.Uncharacteristically, he stayed in the vestibule leading to the inner courtyard for a while, concentrating on studying these external phenomena.Next to him was a man without shoes, sitting on a crate reading a newspaper.Two boys are playing with a seesaw on a pushcart.a face.The shy young girl in her pajamas was standing at the suction pump, drawing water; she watched K. while the water kept flowing into the bucket.In one corner of the inner courtyard, someone had tied a rope between the two windows and hung the clothes to dry on it.A man stood under the rope, pointing loudly from time to time.

K. turned and started towards the stairs, intending to go into the interrogation room; but he stopped short, because in addition to this staircase he saw three other staircases in the yard.There is also a small passage behind the stairs, which seems to lead to the second courtyard.He was annoyed that they hadn't told him exactly which room the interrogation room was in.The neglect and indifference of these people towards him had reached an astonishing degree, and he decided to tell them exactly what he thought.Finally, he stepped on the first staircase, recalling in his mind the words of the guard named William: Law and crime are attracted to each other; in this case, the interrogation room should be located on the top of the staircase that K. had chosen by chance.

As he went upstairs he disturbed many children playing on the stairs; the children watched angrily as he passed among them. "If I'm going to come back next time," he thought to himself, "be sure to bring candy to coax them, or a stick to beat them up." Just as he was about to reach the second floor, a billiard ball rolled When it came down, he had to stop and wait for the pinball to settle.Two wrinkled, gaunt-faced, old-fashioned children took the opportunity to grab his trousers; if he shook them off, he might hurt them, and he was afraid they would start shouting. On the second floor, he really started looking.As he could not inquire directly where the interrogation committee was, he pretended to be looking for a joiner named Lanz—the name came to his mind because Frau Grubach's nephew, the captain, was called Lanz.So he went from door to door to inquire whether there was a man named Lanz living there, and took this opportunity to look into the house.He didn't have to try so hard, because nearly all the doors were open and children were running in and out of them.Many residents have just a small room with a window, where meals are being cooked.Many women held their children in one hand while they worked on the stove with the other.A few girls who were about to grow up seemed to be wearing nothing but aprons, and they were working hard.There are people lying on the bed in every room, some are sick, some are sleeping soundly, and some are still lying on the bed even though they are dressed.If any door was closed, K. knocked and asked if a joiner named Lanz lived there.Usually a woman would answer the door, and upon hearing his question, would turn and speak to someone in the room, who would get up from the bed. "A gentleman asked if there lived here a joiner named Lanz." "A joiner named Lanz?" asked the man from the bed. "Yes," said K., although he already understood that the interrogation committee was not here and that his questioning was superfluous.Many seemed convinced that it was important for K. to find Lanz, the joiner.They racked their brains and pondered for a long time, and they thought of a joiner, but his name was not Lanz; they would also say a name that sounded like Lanz; K. went to another house not far from here, where they felt that there might be a tenant like Lanz living there, or that someone in that house would give him more definite information that they could not give.In the end, K. hardly had to ask any more questions, because he had already covered the entire second floor with all his inquiries.He is now beginning to regret his plan, which he thought was feasible.When he was about to reach the sixth floor, he decided not to search anymore. He said "goodbye" to an enthusiastic young worker who was willing to lead him to continue his investigation, and walked downstairs.However, he felt resentful that he had been busy for a while; so he turned his head and continued to climb.He reached the sixth floor and knocked on the door of the first house.The first thing he saw in the small room was a big wall clock, and the hour hand was almost pointing to ten. "Does a joiner named Lanz live here?" he asked. "Go ahead, please," said a young woman with lively black eyes who was washing children's clothes in a bucket; she pointed with her wet hand to the next house, where the door was open.

K felt as if he had entered a medium-sized conference hall.There were two windows in the hall, which was crowded with all kinds of people, and no one cared about the newcomer.Below the ceiling was a circle of balconies, which, too, were so crowded that people would touch the ceiling with their heads and backs even when they stood hunched over. Feeling that the air in the hall was too stale, K withdrew and said to the young woman who seemed to have misheard him: "I'm asking where a joiner lives. His name is Lanz." "I know, said the woman, "you just go in." If she doesn't come up to him, grab the doorknob and say to him, "Go in, I have to close the door so no one can come in," then he will Probably won't go in again. "Well, I'll listen to you," said K., "but the hall is already too crowded." He went into the hall nonetheless.

There were two people talking behind the door, one of them stretched out his hands and made a gesture like paying, and the other stared at him closely.A hand passed between the two and grabbed K.This hand belonged to a young man with slightly flushed cheeks. "Come on, come on," he said; K. let him lead him on.There seemed to be a long and narrow passage in the middle of the bustling crowd, and they probably belonged to two different factions. K looked to the left and right, and found that no one was facing him, and everyone had their backs to him. , talking and gesticulating only with his own faction - this fact further confirmed his guess.Most of the people wore blue jackets and over them a big old-fashioned Sunday coat.Their attire was the only thing that puzzled K. Otherwise he would have thought it was a local political meeting.

K. was taken by the young man to the other end of the conference hall, where there was a low podium crowded with people, on which a small table was placed at an angle; behind the table a squat man was sitting on the edge of the podium. He was speaking, panting and animated, to another man lounging in a chair behind him, with his legs crossed and his elbows resting on the back of the chair.Humpty Dumpty waved his arms in the air from time to time, as if imitating someone's funny face.The boy who had accompanied K. found it difficult to announce K.'s arrival, and twice he stood on tiptoe to speak, but the squat man on the podium did not notice him.It wasn't until another person on the podium spotted the young man that Humpty Humpty turned to him and bent down to listen to his stammer.Humpty then took out his pocket watch and glanced at K. "You should have been here an hour and five minutes ago," he said. K. was about to answer, but it was too late, because the man had just finished speaking when a discontented uproar erupted from the right half of the hall. "You should have been here an hour and five minutes ago," the man repeated aloud, casting a hasty glance across the chamber.Immediately the uproar grew louder, and it took a long while to die down, when the man had stopped talking.The hall was much quieter than when K. first entered.It's just that the people on the balcony are still commenting.It was dim, dusty, and smoky, but one could still tell that their clothes seemed poorer than those below.A few had cushions to put between their heads and the ceiling so they wouldn't hurt their heads.

K decided not to speak, but to observe; therefore, he did not defend his so-called lateness, but simply said: "Whether I am late or not, I am here anyway." here. "These people are easy to win over," thought K; but he was disturbed by the silence of the left half of the hall, which was right behind him, and there was only a solitary clap or two among them.He thought about what he should say in order to win over everyone in the hall. If he couldn't win over all of them, then at least he had to win over most of them temporarily. "That's right," said the man, "but now I'm under no obligation to listen to you." The voices rose again, and this time no one could mistake their meaning again.The man waved his hand, asking everyone to be quiet.He went on: "But I can count this as an exception, and I won't be late again next time. Now please come to the front." A man jumped off the podium to make room for K. K went up and stood leaning against the table.There were so many people behind him that he had to brace himself to prevent the crowd from pushing the examining judge's table, and perhaps the examining judge himself, off the podium. However, the examining judge didn't seem to worry about this; he sat leisurely in his chair, said a few last words to the people behind him, and then picked up a small notebook-there was nothing else on the table. Nothing else.This notebook looks like an old-style exercise book used in school. It has been turned over too many times, and the corners are all rolled up. "Well, so," said the examining magistrate to K., flipping through his notebook, with a dignified air, "you're a painter and decorator?" "No," said K., "I'm an assistant in a big bank. ’ This answer made those on the right burst into laughter, and K. couldn’t help laughing too.People put their hands on their knees, laughed and shook, shaking like a cough.Even a few people in the balcony were laughing.The examining magistrate flew into a rage, and it seemed that he had not enough authority to control the people in the hall, so he vented his anger on those in the balcony; he jumped up, stared at them, and wrinkled the two eyes above his eyes. Dao's thick, dark eyebrows that usually go unnoticed. However, the left half of the hall remained as calm as before, and the people stood in perfect order facing the podium, listening to the speeches on the podium and the noise emanating from the rest of the hall without moving; Some members of the initiative strike up conversations with each other.There are not as many people on the left as there are in the other sections, and they may actually be insignificant; but their composure and patience impress people. K. began to speak, convinced that he actually represented their point of view. "You asked me a question, Mr. Examining Judge, whether I was a painter or decorator—oh, maybe that's not a question, you're just pointing out a fact—and your question typically reflects the imposition on me. The whole character of this trial. You may object that it is not a trial at all; and you are quite right, for it is only a trial if I admit that it is a trial. However, I Admit it now as a trial because I want sympathy. People can only care about it with compassion if they want to care about it. I'm not saying that your interrogation was vile, but I'd love to give that adjective to You, I leave you alone to think." K. stopped here and looked down at the whole hall.His words were sharp, sharper than he expected, but he had good reasons for saying them.His words should have provoked some kind of applause, but there was no applause, and the audience was evidently waiting for him to speak; the silence might have been pregnant with an outburst in which it would all end.At this time, the door at the other end of the hall suddenly opened, and the young washerwoman came in, and it seemed that she had finished washing her clothes. K. was annoyed: although she came in cautiously, she distracted some people.However, the examining magistrate pleased K. because he seemed very depressed after hearing what K. said.Up to this point the judge had stood still, because when he got up to reprimand the people in the balcony, he stood there dumbfounded by K.'s speech.He took advantage of the interval to sit down again, his movements slowly, as if he didn't want to draw attention to himself.Perhaps in order to calm himself down, he opened the notebook again. "It won't be of much use to you," continued K. "your notebook itself, Mr. Examining Judge, will confirm what I say." He was proud of himself for being able to speak calmly at such a strange meeting Feeling more courageous, he snatched the notebook from the examining magistrate and held it up high.He pinched the middle page with his fingertips, as if afraid of getting his hands dirty; the stained, yellow-edged, densely written book opened to both sides, and the pages hung upside down. "Here is the examining judge's record," he said, letting the notebook fall on the table again. "You can continue to look through it as you like, Mr. Examining Judge, I am not at all afraid of this ledger of yours, although it is confidential to me. I will not touch it, I will not hold it in my hand, at most Just pick it up with the tip of your finger." That was a huge insult, or at least it should have been taken as such.The examining judge picked up the notebook from the table, restored it as best he could, and resumed looking through it. The people in the first row stared intently at K; K stood on the stage without saying a word, looking down at them for a while too.They are all elderly men, without exception, and some even have gray beards.Can they make everyone present follow them?Can they have such a big impact?Could they break free from the apathy they'd been in before he spoke?Although he had publicly insulted the examining judge, they remained unmoved. "What happened to me," went on K., much calmer than before, and at the same time paying attention to the expressions on the faces of the people standing in the first row, which distracted him a little while speaking, "what happened to me Just an isolated example, nothing remarkable in itself, especially since I don't take it seriously at all; yet, it represents a wrong policy that is directed at many others as well. It is for the benefit of these people that I am taking a stand here, not for myself." He unconsciously raised his voice.Someone in the hall clapped their hands high and shouted: "Great! That's right! Great! Great!" Several people in the first row stroked their beards vigorously, but no one responded. He turned to see who had interrupted K. K. didn't care much about this either, but he found it exciting nonetheless; he no longer felt it necessary to get everyone's applause: if he could make the audience think, convince one here, one there, turn them on. If he wins over it, he will feel very happy. "I don't want to be an orator here, talking too much," said K., who had come to this conclusion. "Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to. There is no doubt that Mr. Examining Judge has a much better eloquence than I do." Well, that's part of his genius. I just want to openly discuss one of the pains you all suffer. Listen to me: about ten days ago I was arrested in a way that even seemed ridiculous to me, Although this is trivial at the moment. I was arrested in bed, I was not up at the time, and perhaps - and it is not impossible, according to what the examining magistrate said - perhaps they had orders to arrest a A painter and decorator as innocent as I am, but they caught me. Two rough guards took the room next to me. Even if I were a dangerous gangster, they couldn't have taken more precautions than they did then And besides, these two guards are immoral rascals, who deafen my ears with their chatter, and induce me to bribe them, and try to cheat me of my coat and linen by base pretenses; , brazenly ate my breakfast, and then actually asked me for money, saying that he wanted to buy me breakfast. That's not all. Then I was taken to the third room to see the inspector. The room It's a lady's, and I respect her dearly; yet I have seen the house ruined by them; yes, it was my fault that the wardens and inspectors ruined it, but not at all. It was really difficult for me to keep my composure, but I managed it anyway. I asked the Inspector in the most calm tone why I was arrested--if he was here, he could confirm this. The Inspector sat leisurely. In the chair of the lady I just mentioned, I can still see the haughty, arrogant look. Do you know how he answered? Gentlemen, he didn’t answer anything, maybe he Didn't really know anything. He arrested me, that's all. But, it didn't end there, he sent three low-level clerks from my bank into the lady's room, and let them rummage and fiddle with the things that belonged to the The presence of these three clerks has another purpose, of course, in the expectation that they, like my landlady and her servants, will spread the word that I have been arrested, in order to discredit me, Especially to destabilize my position in the bank. However, this intention was completely defeated, even my landlady - I have the honor to say her name here, she is Mrs. Grubach, a simple-minded Even Mrs. Grubach is intelligent enough to realize that this form of arrest, like a wild child's prank, is not to be taken seriously. I repeat, all this presently makes me only resentful and It's just annoying, but wouldn't it lead to worse consequences?" At this point K. stopped, glanced at the silent examining magistrate, and seemed to see the magistrate giving someone in the hall a wink, a signal. K. smiled and said: "The examining magistrate sitting next to me just sent a secret signal to one of you. It seems that some of you are taking instructions from the person sitting above me. I don't know, this Is the signal to applaud or boo me; now that I have revealed the truth of the matter prematurely, I have also consciously given up any hope of grasping its true meaning. I don't care about the matter, I can openly Authorize Monsieur the examining magistrate to say anything to his servants, without giving a secret signal, the judge may say to them when he thinks fit: Shh him now, or: Applause him now." The examining judge fidgeted in his chair, embarrassed and possibly impatient.He said a word to the man behind him, and the man leaned over to him, maybe to cheer him up, or maybe to give him a specific idea.The audience below was talking, not loud but lively.Members of the two factions which had previously seemed to be at odds merged, some pointing to K., others to the examining magistrate.The hall was so smoky that it was unbearable that people on the other side of the hall could not even be seen from one end of the hall.The people in the balcony were worse, they were anxious, they looked at the examining magistrate, and they had to ask the people downstairs in low voices in order to find out what was going on.The answers seemed to be made furtively; the informant generally put his hand over his mouth and tried to keep his voice down. "I'm going to finish soon," said K., beating the table with his fist because there was no bell on it.The examining magistrate and his counselor were startled at the sound, and the two heads which had been brought together parted for a moment. "I'm basically out of it, so I can comment on it calmly, and you -- I mean, if you really take this so-called courtroom seriously -- you'll find out , it is of great benefit to listen to what I have to say. But I beg you, if you have any opinion on what I have said, you need to discuss it with me, and it is best to talk about it later, because I am pressed for time and have to leave here soon.” There was an instant silence in the hall, and K took control of the audience.The audience, no longer clamoring or even clapping, seemed convinced, or nearly so. "There is no doubt about it," said K. very gently.He was encouraged by the attentive, breathless silence of the audience; the silence, so great that even the faintest sound could be heard, was more exciting than the loudest applause." Behind the series of actions - I mean the series of actions taken by the courts in my case to arrest me and to try me today - there is a huge agency at work. This agency not only employs bribed guards , stupid censors, and examining judges whose greatest merit is that they know they are worthless, and who have a number of high-ranking and even the most senior judges, and these people have a large number of servants, clerks, policemen and other assistants. , and perhaps executioners, I don't shy away from using that word. Gentlemen, why is there such a gigantic institution? Nothing more than false accusations of innocent people and absurd interrogation of them; Nothing can be achieved in this case, as in my case. But since the whole institution is absurd, how can the superiors prevent their subordinates from corrupting the law? It is impossible, even if the institution The highest justice in the world had to acquiesce in bribery in his court. Because of this, the guards tried to steal the clothes worn by the people they captured, the inspectors broke into the homes of strangers, and innocent people Not treated politely, but humiliated in public. The guards have said that the property of the prisoners is kept in some warehouses, and I am eager to see how the hard-earned things of the prisoners rot there. At least see what's left after the officials ransacked it." At this moment K. was interrupted by a scream from across the hall.The hall was smoky, dimly lit, and misty, so he had to raise a hand over his eyes, trying to see what had happened. It turned out to be the washerwoman.As soon as she came in, K. knew that order might be disturbed by her.Whether it was her fault or not is unclear. All K. saw was a man dragging her into a corner by the door and holding her tightly.But it wasn't her who screamed, it was the man; his mouth was open and his eyes were fixed on the ceiling.A small group gathered around them; those who were nearer them in the balcony seemed pleased to see that the solemn atmosphere created by K. during the interrogation had been spoiled by this incident. K.'s first instinct was to run across the hall to the other end.He took it for granted that everyone was eager to restore order, and at least the black sheep should be driven out of the venue; but the first few rows of the public were indifferent, they did not move, and no one made way for him.Instead, it was actually blocking him, someone—he didn't have time to look back to see who it was—reaching out and grabbing him by the collar from behind; K. could no longer care about the two of them now, he felt that his freedom was threatened, as if he had really been arrested.He jumped off the podium desperately.He is now standing face to face with the crowd.Did he misread these people?Did he overestimate the effect of his speech?Were they trying to hide their true attitude when he spoke?Now that he's done talking, have they finally grown tired of their posturing?Look at the expressions on the faces of those around him!Their little black eyes looked shiftily from side to side; their beards were so brittle that they were not beards at all, and if you held them in your hand it would be like holding a handful of crab claws.On the collar of the coat under the beard, large and small colorful badges were shining-this was K.'s real discovery.He also found that they all wore these badges.On the surface, some of them belonged to the right, some belonged to the left, but they were all colleagues; turning sharply, he saw that the examining judge also had the same emblem on the collar of his coat.The examining magistrate sat with his hands on his knees, looking at the scene with ease. "That's right!" exclaimed K., waving his arms in the air.He suddenly understood and was furious: "You are all officials, and none of you are not. I understand, you are the corrupt people I just mentioned. Come here, listen with your ears, smell with your nose, Want to know as much about me as possible. You pretend to be divided, and half of you applaud like hell, just to entice me to go on. You want to try, how to tease an honest person. Well, I hope you have learned from this Great advantage, because I expected you to protect an innocent man, you've had some fun with it, or something else—go away, or I'll beat you," K. shouted to a trembling old man. said the old man, who leaned too close to him, "You may really understand a thing or two. I hope you are satisfied with your profession." He hastily picked up his hat from the side of the table, In the silence evoked by astonishment - if for no other reason - he made his way through the crowd and made his way to the door.However, the examining judge seemed to move faster than K, because he was already waiting at the door. "Wait a minute," he said. K. stopped, but his eyes were still on the door and not on the examining magistrate; his hand was already on the latch of the door. "I just want to point out," said the examining magistrate, "that today—perhaps you don't know it yet—you yourself forfeited all the advantages that the trial would certainly bring to the accused." K. laughed, still looking at the door. "You rascals, I'm going to try you one day," he said aloud, and he opened the door and ran downstairs.他身后响起唧唧喳喳的热烈讨论声，公众显然已不再惊愕，他们像内行的学者一样，开始分析面临的局势。