B007P4V3G4 EBOK by Richard Huijing

such an end, to
him this was a dislocation of all coherence. But no: he erred in his
view. Life did not begin for the sake of its end. The end is not a
final outcome but merely the last thing. The journey was the
essence, not the manner in which you disembark; it was a delusion
to despise one's entire life because of the way its end was now.
    He was suddenly amazed at finding the strength for such
thoughts and for such a feeling. Had all these events stirred
something within him after all? Or was this simply caused by his
having eaten again? Then the others, the ones who had devoured
the boar, would have to sense a dawn among the ashes of their
sensibilities too. And lo: something happened that appeared to be
connected with this.
    The music fell silent, the guests on the balcony grew quite mute,
a deathly silence set in. The servants who previously had carried in
the torches now came with long stakes with which they moved
the light baskets that turned out to be fixed to pivoting arms,
moving them a good way out from the wall. Because of this, parts
of the vaulted rock above them, having remained in darkness until
now, were suddenly illuminated. All looked up and kept their gaze
trained upwards, for what they saw, they had never expected to be
there.

    Oval holes had been hacked out at'
regular intervals in the
vaulting and in each opening, accessible from the outside apparently, arms and legs resting on its edges or possibly supported by
cords, was a young woman. The unsteady light of the torches
played around as many as twenty such floating bodies. At first
sight, they seemed to be statues, ceiling ornaments, but this wasn't
Greece and only there could such statues have existed.
    The music began, a soft, sweet lingering melody; the suspended
women now addressed the world beneath them with movements,
like in a dream at first, more emphatically as the music grew, with
enticing gestures of arms, head and legs. Everything about them
seemed to say: come to us, we are intended for you and there is
nothing we would more dearly like to do than to fulfil that purpose.
    Meanwhile, the balcony had become a complete pleasure
ground.
    Dash it all. Not satisfied with the havoc they had wrought, they
wished to continue their amusement with those who had survived
it, whose drive for food had been assuaged and who through this
had regained their strength, to continue it by baiting them as
regards their second drive. While they themselves were fornicating
freely there, they attempted to whip up their prisoners one more
time to acts of fruitless rage. Slavegirls served them to this end.
Perhaps they had been promised their freedom for playing this
role, for they vied with one another in seductive movements of
love. They gyrated, they sang and smiled down at the men, and
with their arms they pretended to draw them up to them.
    With despair, he saw that this devilish intent succeeded too. His
cave-mates kept their eyes riveted on the sirens above. They got
up in order to be closer to them; they paced back and forth,
restless, as though in a fever. He saw some of them stretch their
arms aloft as if to say: let yourselves drop, we'll catch you. But the
other ones laughed and beckoned and gyrated their bodies.
    One now tried to climb up the steep rock face. It was rough;
here and there one could gain a hold. Followed by all eyes, the
balcony's too, he went on climbing. Half way up, his strength
failed him or a support gave way. He plummeted down and lay
there.
    Others, too, attempted it, chose the most charming of the
women or the roughest ascent and began, encouraged by a chorus of cries, their daring journey. The start to the vault, only a few
metres removed from the desired goal, when the hands stretched
out from either side almost touched, was nearly always fatal. Each
time someone dropped down, the music would suddenly fall silent
so the thud could clearly be heard.

    Once, he saw a he that