The MagicianMaugham, W. Somerset (William Somerset)
General
The Magician
Maugham, W. Somerset (William Somerset)
Magic -- Fiction; Paris (France) -- Fiction
“His friends and the jugglers, his fellows, gathered round him and
placed him in a chair. In two hours he was dead. In his drunkenness he
had forgotten a portion of the spell which protected him, and so he
died.”
“You have a marvellous collection of tall stories,” said Arthur. “I’m
afraid I should want better proof that these particular snakes are
poisonous.”
Oliver turned to the charmer and spoke to him in Arabic. Then he
answered Arthur.
“The man has a horned viper, _cerastes_ is the name under which you
gentlemen of science know it, and it is the most deadly of all Egyptian
snakes. It is commonly known as Cleopatra’s Asp, for that is the
serpent which was brought in a basket of figs to the paramour of Caesar
in order that she might not endure the triumph of Augustus.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Susie.
He smiled but did not answer. He stepped forward to the centre of the
tent and fell on his knees. He uttered Arabic words, which Dr. Porhoët
translated to the others.
“O viper, I adjure you, by the great God who is all-powerful, to come
forth. You are but a snake, and God is greater than all snakes. Obey my
call and come.”
A tremor went through the goatskin bag, and in a moment a head was
protruded. A lithe body wriggled out. It was a snake of light grey
colour, and over each eye was a horn. It lay slightly curled.
“Do you recognize it?” said Oliver in a low voice to the doctor.
“I do.”
The charmer sat motionless, and the woman in the dim background ceased
her weird rubbing of the drum. Haddo seized the snake and opened its
mouth. Immediately it fastened on his hand, and the reptile teeth went
deep into his flesh. Arthur watched him for signs of pain, but he did
not wince. The writhing snake dangled from his hand. He repeated a
sentence in Arabic, and, with the peculiar suddenness of a drop of
water falling from a roof, the snake fell to the ground. The blood
flowed freely. Haddo spat upon the bleeding place three times,
muttering words they could not hear, and three times he rubbed the
wound with his fingers. The bleeding stopped. He stretched out his hand
for Arthur to look at.
“That surely is what a surgeon would call healing by first intention,”
he said.
Burdon was astonished, but he was irritated, too, and would not allow
that there was anything strange in the cessation of the flowing blood.
“You haven’t yet shown that the snake was poisonous.”
“I have not finished yet,” smiled Haddo.
He spoke again to the Egyptian, who gave an order to his wife. Without
a word she rose to her feet and from a box took a white rabbit. She
lifted it up by the ears, and it struggled with its four quaint legs.
Haddo put it in front of the horned viper. Before anyone could have
moved, the snake darted forward, and like a flash of lightning struck
the rabbit. The wretched little beast gave a slight scream, a shudder
went through it, and it fell dead.
Margaret sprang up with a cry.
“Oh, how cruel! How hatefully cruel!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account