K. is scolded by the landlord and landlady for lingering in the corridor

After his nocturnal hearings with Bürgel and Erlanger, K. lingers in the corridor of the Castle Inn, unaware that his presence is a grave transgression. The landlord and landlady, who have been waiting at the end of the corridor, confront him with a torrent of reproaches, explaining that his mere presence has disrupted the delicate morning routine of the castle gentlemen. This scolding is not merely a personal rebuke but a revelation of the rigid social order that governs the village and the castle, where even the most insignificant outsider can cause profound disturbance.

The Transgression

K. had been summoned to the Castle Inn for a hearing with Erlanger, but after the hearing he remained in the corridor, wandering about with his hands in his pockets, observing the distribution of files. The landlord and landlady, who had been waiting anxiously, could not understand how K. could have acted so thoughtlessly. They explained that he had no right to be in the corridor at all; he could enter only the bar, and that only as a favour. If summoned to see a gentleman, he must go to the place, but he must always remain aware that he was somewhere he did not belong, summoned only by a gentleman, and very unwillingly at that. He had to turn up quickly, go through his hearing, and then disappear, even more quickly if possible.

The couple's indignation was compounded by the fact that K.'s lingering had made the distribution of files all but impossible. The gentlemen, who were too bashful and vulnerable to be exposed to the glance of strange eyes just after waking up, had been unable to come out of their rooms. They had been driven to distraction, and after summoning up almost unimaginable will-power, they had reached for their bells and rung for help in getting rid of K. This was something that had never before happened, and the landlord and landlady were inconsolable at their own powerlessness.

The Gentlemen's Sensitivity

The scolding revealed the extreme sensitivity of the castle officials. The landlord and landlady explained that the gentlemen were too bashful to show themselves in the morning, even if fully clothed, because they were ashamed of having gone to sleep. They were also bashful about seeing strangers, and could not bear to be suddenly confronted with the distressing sight of members of the public. The nocturnal hearings were held with the sole purpose of questioning members of the public whose sight would be entirely intolerable by day, so that the gentlemen could forget all that unpleasantness in slumber. K.'s conduct had made a mockery of all these precautionary measures.

The couple compared K. to a night-flying moth that seeks out a quiet corner when day comes, flattens itself as if it would like to disappear, and suffers because it can't. But K. stood where he was most conspicuous, and if he could not prevent day from dawning, he could delay it and make it much worse. The gentlemen, who were always serving the good cause and never thought of their own advantage, had to work with all their powers to ensure that the distribution of files was done quickly, easily, and without errors. K.'s presence had made this impossible.

The Landlady's Anger

The landlady was particularly incensed, and her anger was directed at K. personally. She had been wearing a wide-skirted brown dress that rustled like silk, and was rather carelessly buttoned and done up, having found it in her haste. She had laid her head on her husband's shoulder and was dabbing her eyes with a delicate little handkerchief, now and then casting angry glances at K. like a child. She could not understand how K. could have done anything of the kind, and she and the landlord both heaped reproaches on him, which in all the haste and surprise he did not understand.

K. tried to mollify the couple by explaining that everything they had told him was entirely new to him, and that he would never have stayed so long in the corridor if he had not been so exhausted. He thanked them for putting an end to the painful scene, and said that if he was to be called to account for it, he would welcome that, for only in that way could he prevent his conduct from being generally misunderstood. He attributed his weariness to his lack of experience with the strain of the hearings, and said that once he had some experience of it, nothing of the kind could happen again.

The Aftermath

The landlord seemed somewhat mollified by K.'s explanation, and was about to agree to his request to let him put a plank on the casks and sleep there until daylight. But the landlady was clearly against it, and kept shaking her head. A long-standing argument about the cleanliness of the house seemed about to break out again. To K., weary as he was, the conversation between husband and wife took on enormous importance. To be driven away from here seemed a misfortune greater than any he had yet known.

Finally, the landlady, in her own unusual sensitivity, suddenly stepped aside and cried out that K. was looking at her, and demanded that he be sent away. But K., seizing his opportunity, said that he was not looking at her, only at her dress. This remark, which seemed to touch a nerve, led the landlady to call him a drunk lout and to tell the landlord to leave him there to sleep it off. She then told Pepi, who had emerged from the darkness looking tired and tousled, to throw K. a cushion or so. Thus, K. was allowed to stay, but the scolding had revealed the precariousness of his position and the deep-seated rules that governed his every move.