In the silent hour of the night, as I lay half asleep, my
seven selves sat together
and thus conversed in whispers:
First Self: Here, in this madman, I have dwelt all these years, with naught to
do but renew his pain by day and recreate his sorrow by night. I can bear my fate
no longer, and now I must rebel.
Second Self: Yours is a better lot than mine, brother, for it
is given me to be this madman's joyous self. I laugh his laughter and
sing his happy hours, and with thrice winged feet I dance his brighter
thoughts. It is I that would rebel against my weary existence.
Third Self: And what of me, the love-ridden self, the flaming
brand of wild passion and fantastic desires? It is I the love-sick self
who would rebel against this madman.
Fourth Self: I, amongst you all, am the most miserable, for
naught was given me but the odious hatred and destructive loathing. It
is I, the tempest-like self, the one born in the black caves of Hell,
who would protest against serving this madman.
Fifth Self: Nay, it is I, the thinking self, the fanciful self, the self of hunger
and thirst, the one doomed to wander without rest in search of unknown things and
things not yet created; it is I, not you, who would rebel.
Sixth Self: And I, the working self, the pitiful labourer,
who, with patient hands, and longing eyes, fashion the days into images
and give the formless elements new and eternal forms--it is I, the
solitary one, who would rebel against this restless madman.
Seventh Self: How strange that you all would rebel against
this man, because each and every one of you has a preordained fate to
fulfil. Ah! could I but be like one of you, a self with a determined
lot! But I have none, I am the do-nothing self, the one who sits in the
dumb, empty nowhere and nowhen, when you are busy re-creating life. Is
it you or I, neighbours, who should rebel?
When the seventh self thus spake the other six selves looked
with pity upon him but said nothing more; and as the night grew deeper
one after the other went to sleep enfolded with a new and happy
submission.
But the seventh self remained watching and gazing at nothingness, which is behind all things.
.
Etiquetas: it has been said..., The Madman
