METROPOLIS as a pauseless series of leaps. He did .Dot notice the height. With hands stretch~ forward he ran, in bounds, bis hair rearing up like a Hame ahove his brow. His mouth was wide open and between his parted lips there hovered-a soundless scream-the unscreamed name: «Fredel'" An infinity of stairs ... clefts rents in walls ... smashed stone blocks ... twisted iron destruction ..• ruin..•• The street. The day was streaming down, red, upon the street. . . • Howls in the air. And the gleam ot Barne. And smoke.... Voices ... shouts-and no exultant shouting .•. shouts of fear, of horror, of terribly strained tension..•• At last the cathedral square.... The bonfire. The mob . . . men. woman, immeasurable masses . . . but they. were not gazing at the bonfire. on the smoking £Ieiness of which smouldered a. cre8trne of metal and glass, with the head and body of a woman. ' All eyes were turned upwards. towards the heights 01 the cathedral, the roof of which sparkled in the morninS sunshine. Joh Fredersen stopped, as though a blow had been struck at his knees. «What .. :. he stammered. He raised his eyes. he raised his hands quite slowly to the level of his head ... his hands rested upon his hair. Soundlessly, as though mown down. he fell upon his knees. Upon the heights of the cathedral roof, entwined about each other, clawed to each other. wrestled Freder and Rotwang, gleaming in the sunlight. They fought. breast pressed to breast. knee to knee. One did not need very sharp eyes to see that Rotwang was by far the stronger. The slender form of the boy. in white silken tatters. bent under the throttling grip of the great inventor, farther and farther backwards. In a fearfully wonderful arch the slender. white form was extended. head back. knees bent fonyard. And the blackness which was Rotwang stood ~ut. massy. mountain-like. above the silken whiteness. forcing Jt downwards. In the narrow gallery of the spire Freder 212
