‘We must try to get rid of it,’ Biark now said decisively to the crowd, ‘it is killing you all. I see it coming. When people have to work as hard as we all do, they can not also tolerate this endless torment in the city. I just can’t go on any more.’ And he broke out into such a crying fit that his tears flowed out down onto the crowd. He wiped as some Homero’s heroes did.
‘Child,’ said Boris sympathetically and with obvious appreciation, ‘then what should we do?’
Biark only shrugged his shoulders as a sign of the perplexity which, in contrast to his previous confidence, had come over him while he was crying.
‘If only he understood us,’ said the Boris in a semi questioning tone. Biark, in the midst of his sobbing, shook his hand energetically as a sign that there was no point thinking of that.
‘If he only understood us,’ repeated Boris and by shutting his eyes he absorbed the man’s conviction of the impossibility of this point, ‘then perhaps some compromise would be possible with him. But as it is …’
‘It must be gotten rid of,’ cried the Biark; ‘That is the only way, people. You must try to get rid of the idea that this is good for us. The fact that we have believed for so long, that is truly our real misfortune. But how can it be good? If it was Good, he would have long ago realized that a communal life among human beings is not possible with such an animal and would have gone away voluntarily. Then we would not have a brother, but we could go on living and honour this city. But this animal plagues us. It drives away the lodgers, will obviously take over the entire country, and leave us to spend the night in the alley. Just look, my friends, ‘he’s there, watching us.’
It happened suddenly, as L. Bess awoke one morning from uneasy dreams, he found himself transformed into a gigantic insect.