METROPOLIS Ah-Metropolisl Metropolisl , A drunken man, he took his first steps, saw it flame which hissed up into the heavens. A rocket w.l'ote in drops of light on the velvety sky the word: «Yoshiwara .... George ran across the street, reached the steps, and, taking three steps at time, reached the .roadway. Soft, flexible, a. black willing beast, a car approached, stopped at his feet. Georgi sprang into the car, fell back upon'the cushions, the engine of the powerful automobile vibrating soundlessly. A recollection stiffened the man's body. Was there not, somewhere in the world-and not so very far away. under the sale of the New Tower of Babel, a room which was run through by incessant trembling? Did not a delicate little machine stand in the middle of this room, shining with oil and having strong, gleaming limbs? Under the crouching body and the head, which was sunken on the chest, crooked legs rested, gnome-like upon the platform. The trunk and legs were motionless. But the short arms pushed and pushed and pushed, alternately forwards, backwards, and forwards. The Hoar which was of stone and seamless, trembled under the pushing of the little machine which WJlS smaller than a five· year-old child. The voice of the driver asked: Where to, sir?" Straight on, motioned Georgi with his hand. Anywhere..•• The man had said to him: Change the car after the third street. But the rhythm of the motor-car embraced him too delightfully. Third street. . . . sixth street. . . . it was still very far to the ninetieth block. He was filled with the wonder of being thus couched, the bewilderment of the lights, the shudder of entrancement at the motion. . The further that, with the soundless gliding of the wheels, he drew away from the New Tower of Babel, the further did he seem to draw away from the consciousnes of his own self. Who was he-? Had he not just stood in a greasy patched, blue linen uniform, in a seething hell, his brain
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