Free B007P4V3G4 EBOK by Richard Huijing Page A

those who were intact discerned the full reality. He, too,
who had been cast inside last and was the least dilapidated
therefore, who still had command of almost all his strength, for his
wounds had much improved. Nothing escaped his notice. After all
that time of enforced deafness and blindness, the use of his senses
was an intense experience in itself: to assuage the hunger of his
eyes, to slake the thirst of his ears.
    While everything remained motionless below, as though in a
petrified world, he saw how the binge up above became ever more
impetuous, the voices rising continually above the music. The
guests no longer merely groped for food and drink but one
another too. Their movements became wilder, their sounds, even
their laughter, more bestial. From time to time, a bone, gnawed
clean, would carelessly be tossed down, over the balustrade.
    As spirits rose this happened more frequently all the time. Not
just bones, but bones with meat still on them too. The musicians
were exhorted to louder and faster playing, the guests directing
more and more of their attention towards the realm below them.
Some were already hanging over the balustrade. One raised his
glass in space and then drank to them.
    The true meaning of this junket now became clear to him. They
sought to amuse themselves with them. Like with animals. To have
them fight for the scraps from their table. And possibly then to see
them devour each other in consequence. They had first drunk
themselves into a conscience-less state so as to be able to play this
game with full abandon.
    More and ever larger chunks of food they cast down, emitting
cries such as those one exhorts dogs with. A large piece of pie came
down right beside him; he did not stretch out his hand towards it.
    They did not stop at scraps. Entire platters of meat, just brought
in, flew down amongst them, leaving an arc of vapour in the air.

    But not one of the prisoners moved: they went on being that
petrified group. Many were incapable of rousing themselves but
the strong, too, it seemed, carefully weighed up the effort a
general struggle would cost them against the advantage of capturing a chunk. The only thing he saw, was that they would look
round occasionally, at the food and back at each other again, only
moving their eyes in doing so. Predatory it was.
    No matter what was going to happen, he would never join in
with that. He'd done with everything for good. He would calmly
undergo the decline of his body. He would give the enemy no
power over this decision and in so doing, he would preserve a final
independence. Or was he able to decide this because he still had
his resistance? And would his will desert him too, before time? So
that then he would do things which still shamed him now? He
shuddered at this.
    They had broken up the symposium. Bar a few, the entire company
had openly turned to the arena of death. While the music was
silent, one of their number made a long speech to them of which
he couldn't understand a word but which had to be very droll for
the speaker was always being interrupted by general hilarity. He
was probably mocking them for their refusal to show interest in
the food they had been thrown, asking ironically whether they
were too sated perhaps, or so spoilt that these dishes were not to
their taste.
    The oration was addressed to them but only intended for the
ladies and gentlemen on the balcony who amused themselves,
moreover, by taking aim at individual prisoners. A big, ruggedly
hairy warrior formed their target more than the others. He did not
move a muscle. No one did.
    This general rigidity could be interpreted as contempt, and
anger began to rise in the company the way anger does in a
donkeyman when his beast baulks, its legs stretched out, and it
can't be driven on, no matter what.
    Then they played their final, trump card. The centre of the
balcony was cleared for a moment and as the music speeded up
and grew