In this dream, I was seated around a wheel, which looked more or less like roulette. It kept turning around, and as looked around I saw people around it, as well. They give the impression of being quite different as this wheel turned. My prospect kept focusing at myself, but, am I in this dream? It seemed so, my sight was watching at myself, amongst others. On another edge of the wheel was a man with his couple, I guess, but he didn’t seem as happy all the times. On the other side, a lonesome man looking with hope at the wheel, but wasn’t happy anyways. My other self was rather happy, like if this roulette had just stopped at his chosen number or color. As he was happy, I felt happy, but as the wheel started to spin again, my other self started to feel rather empty, as if his happiness had vanished. Maybe he contemplated the fact that winning the last time was useless if he lost this time.
I heard him say, “Thanked be fortune and hire false wheel / That noon estaat assureth to be weel” (Chaucer, 925-926). As this roulette kept spinning I thought about what my other self had just said. But why? He was gorgeous five seconds ago, when I just arrived. Apparently bliss and agony are not that far apart, and nobody is vetoed from adversity… This lonesome man was now apparently gorgeous, and the man with his couple kissed her and gave her an engagement ring, while my other self weeped in despair, saying, “I nam but deed; there nys no remedye (…) And whan a beest is deed he hath no peyne; / But man after his deeth moot wepe and pleyne” (Chaucer, 1274, 1320-21). His misery was balanced out by the others’ joy, and the other way around. This roulette made some be happy at the expense of others who weep. Good fortune and bad fortune, here, seem connected. This wheel or roulette apparently manipulates this pattern, as if heavenly bodies were playing puppets on humanity.
Then we have death. Men seek death for relief of this bipolarity of fortunes, a refuge for these constant reversals of fortune. But as men die in grief and lament, death is no sure solution for life’s problems. Instead, death is the debt that all men pay. This debt that is pending during the lifetime: the final reversal of fortune… Oops, sorry, I let my mind dominate my speech. As I was telling, this roulette manipulated the delight and gloom of this people at my dream: the couple who had first been sad, then had the man propose to her, and right now, they were arguing about some things I couldn’t quite hear over the bipolarity of my other self’s mourning and glee. Simultaneously, the lonely man had undergone changes of joy and sadness, while my other self was the opposite side of the coin.
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