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he wanted first to gain the painter’s trust before he took him
into his service. “That was very easy,” said the painter, “I in-
herited these contacts. My father was court painter before
me. It’s a position that’s always inherited. The can’t use new
people for it, the rules governing how the various grades of
officials are painted are so many and varied, and, above all,
so secret that noone outside of certain families even knows
them. In the drawer there, for instance, I’ve got my father’s
notes, which I don’t show to anyone. But you’re only able to
paint judges if you know what they say. Although, even if I
lost them no-one could ever dispute my position because of
all the rules I just carry round in my head. All the judges
want to be painted like the old, great judges were, and I’m
the only one who can do that.” “You are to be envied,” said
K., thinking of his position at the bank. “Your position is
quite unassailable, then?” “Yes, quite unassailable,” said the
painter, and he raised his shoulders in pride. “That’s how I
can even afford to help some poor man facing trial now and
then.” “And how do you do that?” asked K., as if the paint-
er had not just described him as a poor man. The painter
did not let himself be distracted, but said, “In your case,
for instance, as you’re totally innocent, this is what I’ll do.”
The repeated mention of K.’s innocence was becoming irk-
some to him. It sometimes seemed to him as if the painter
was using these comments to make a favourable outcome to
the trial a precondition for his help, which of course would
make the help itself unnecessary. But despite these doubts
K. forced himself not to interrupt the painter. He did not
want to do without the painter’s help, that was what he had

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