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Maugham, W. Somerset (William Somerset), 1874-1965

"The Magician"

'
His voice grew very low, and it was so seductive that Margaret's brain
reeled. The sound of it was overpowering like too sweet a fragrance.
I tell you that for this art nothing is impossible. It commands the
elements, and knows the language of the stars, and directs the planets
in their courses. The moon at its bidding falls blood-red from the sky.
The dead rise up and form into ominous words the night wind that moans
through their skulls. Heaven and Hell are in its province; and all forms,
lovely and hideous; and love and hate. With Circe's wand it can change
men into beasts of the field, and to them it can give a monstrous
humanity. Life and death are in the right hand and in the left of him who
knows its secrets. It confers wealth by the transmutation of metals and
immortality by its quintessence.'
Margaret could not hear what he said. A gradual lethargy seized her under
his baleful glance, and she had not even the strength to wish to free
herself. She seemed bound to him already by hidden chains.
'If you have powers, show them,' she whispered, hardly conscious that she
spoke.


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