Page 56 - BraveNewWorld

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tauter, almost to the tearing point. The feet of the Greater Being-oh, they heard
thern, they heard them, coming softlydown the stairs, coming nearer and nearer
down the invisible stairs. The feet of the Greater Being. And suddenly the tea-
ring point was reached. Her eyes staring, her lips parted. Morgana Rothschild
sprang to her feet.
“I hear him,” she cried. “I hear him.”
“He’s coming,” shouted Sarojini Engels.

“Yes, he’s coming, I hear him.” Fifi Bradlaugh and Tom Kawaguchi rose simul-
taneously to their feet.

“Oh, oh, oh!” Joanna inarticulately testified.
“He’s coming!” yelled Jim Bokanovsky.
The President leaned forward and, with a touch, released a delirium of cymbals
and blown brass, a fever of tom-tomming.
“Oh, he’s coming!” screamed Clara Deterding. “Aie!” and it was as though she
were having her throat cut.

Feeling that it was time for him to do something, Bernard also jumped up and
shouted: “I hear him; He’s coming.” But it wasn’t true. He heard nothing
and, for him, nobody was coming. Nobody-in spite of the music, in spite of
the mounting excitement. But he waved his arms, he shouted with the best of
them; and when the others began to jig and stamp and shuffle, he also jigged
and shuffled.

Round they went, a circular procession of dancers, each with hands on the hips
of the dancer preceding, round and round, shouting in unison, stamping to the
rhythm of the music with their feet, beating it, beating it out with hands on the
buttocks in front; twelve pairs of hands beating as one; as one, twelve buttocks
slabbily resounding. Twelve as one, twelve as one. “I hear Him, I hear Him
coming.” The music quickened; faster beat the feet, faster, faster fell the rhyth-
mic hands. And all at once a great synthetic bass boomed out the words which
announced the approaching atonement and final consummation of solidarity,
the coming of the Twelve-in-One, the incarnation of the Greater Being. “Orgy-
porgy,” it sang, while the tom-toms continued to beat their feverish tattoo:
“Orgy-porgy, Ford and fun,

Kiss the girls and make them One.
Boys at 0ne with girls at peace;
Orgy-porgy gives release.”
“Orgy-porgy,” the dancers caught up the liturgical refrain, “Orgy-porgy, Ford

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