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28 April 2024

What is selfish oppression?

 
Oh, horrorthey were my own past misdeeds―my own evil thoughts and desires, which had been prompted by this very man beside me, and which nestling in my heart had formed those links between us that held me to him now.


Spirit Franchezzo's revulsion caused the waves of magnetic ether on which the music and images were borne to him to waver and break and vanish, leaving him alone with his tempter, with his voice sounding in his ears, pointing out to him how he might enjoy all these delights if he would join him and be his pupil. 

His words fell on deaf earshis promises did not allure him. 


In his heart was only a horror of all these things―only a wild longing to free himself from his presence.


Spirit Franchezzo got up and turned from him, but found he could not move a step.  


An invisible chain held him fast, and with a derisive laugh of rage and triumph, his dark ancestor called out―

Go, since you will have none of my favours―or my promises. 

Go now and see what awaits you.


Spirit Franchezzo could move a step and began to feel a strange alarm creeping over him, and a strange numbness of limbs and brain. 

A mist seemed to gather round and enfold him in its chill embrace, while phantoms of awful shape and giant-size drew near.  

To his horror, he recognised these forms as his own past misdeeds―his own evil thoughts and desires, which this very man had prompted and which had formed those links that held Spirit Franchezzo to him now.

A wild, fierce, cruel laugh broke from him at his discomfiture. 


He pointed to these weird shapes and bid him see what he was who thought himself too good for his company. 


The hall grew darker and darker, and wave on wave, the grim phantoms crowded  round him, each growing more fearful as they gathered, hemming him in on every side, while below his feet a great vault―or pit opened in which he saw
or seemed to see a seething mass of struggling human forms. 


His fearful ancestor shook in wild paroxysms of rage and fiendish laughter, and pointing to the gathering phantoms bid them hurl him into the black pit. 


Suddenly a star gleamed above them in the darkness and from it fell a ray of light like a rope, which he grasped with both his hands. 


As the folds of light diffused themselves around him, he was drawn up out of that dark place―away from that fearful palace.


When Spirit Franchezzo recovered from his astonishment, and relief at his release, he found himself in the open country with Faithful Friend and his Eastern guide making passes over him, for he was much shaken and exhausted with the struggle.  


His guide addressed him kindly and told him that he had permitted this trial so that his knowledge of the true nature of the man he had just left should be his best protection in future against his wiles and schemes for his enslavement. 

Spirit Franchezzo's guide said to him―   

So long as you thought of this man with pride―or respect as an ancestor, and one who had any ties to you, so long would his power to influence you continue, but now your own sense of horror and repugnance will act as a repelling power to keep his influence away from you. 

Your will is as strong as his, and you need no other protection. 


In the interview just past, you allowed your senses to be beguiled and your will paralysed by this dark being before you were aware, and had I not rescued you, he might, though for a time only, have made you his subject and have done you serious injury. 


Take heed now while you yet remain in his sphere that you do not again lose the sovereignty over yourself, which is your own and which no man can usurp unless your wavering will allows him to do so. 


I leave you again, my son, to follow your pilgrimage, which will soon, however, draw to its close, and I bid you be of good cheer since your reward will come from her whom you love and who loves you and sends ever her most tender thoughts to you.

Summertime – Anders Zorn

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