Tim Pratt - Sympathy for the Devil

As Albergus and Dicolini haggle, Robin creeps behind them. He draws another fish from the folds of his ragged cloak and slips it onto Albergus’s chair. Albergus, arguing with Dicolini, draws a kerchief from his sleeve, mops his brow, and sits down. A moment later he lets out a strangled cry and leaps from the chair, cracking his knee on the table. He picks up the fish and holds it out at arm’s length.

Albergus: What’s this?

Robin whips a sword out and lunges, impaling the fish and the sleeve of Albergus’s doublet. Albergus steps back and slips on the first fish. His arms fly up, jerking Robin toward him. Dicolini catches Albergus under the armpits, and Robin sprawls on top of him.

Dicolini: You no fool me, boss. Atsafish.

Albergus and Robin struggle to get up, but Robin’s hand is caught in the guard. When they make it to their feet the pommel is wedged under the clasp that holds Albergus’s cloak closed around his neck. The sword guard presses against his throat, and his arm stretches the length of the blade as if tied to a splint. Chin forced high into the air, Albergus whirls around like a manic signpost.

Dicolini: Don’t worry, boss. We get you out.

Robin jumps on Albergus’s back and shoves a hand down his collar. Dicolini pulls him over onto the table. He lies spread-eagled while Robin pulls the sword up through the collar, across his neck. Afraid they will cut his throat, he struggles, but Dicolini is sitting on his left arm.

Dicolini: Relax. We take care of everything.

Robin draws the sword completely out and the fish catches against Albergus’s throat. Robin shakes hands with Dicolini. Albergus sits up, stands, tugs his clothes into order, trying to compose himself.

Albergus: Gentlemen. I trust we are in agreement now-you’ll do this piece of work for me?

Dicolini: We do the whole thing.

Robin honks. Albergus steers them toward the door, his arms across their shoulders.

Albergus: Splendid. Remember now, should you meet me in public, I’m a stranger.

Dicolini: Stranger than who?

Albergus: Us. You and I-and your friend, of course. Strangers.

Dicolini: Hesa stranger than both of us put together.

Albergus: So I’m beginning to understand.

Dicolini: We gotta go now. We’re gonna be late for the classes we wanna miss.

Albergus: My apologies for detaining you. Just make sure you get me something I can use against Faustus.

Robin pulls a red-hot poker out of the robe. He grips the iron in both hands, waving it under Albergus’s nose. Albergus falls back; Robin offers him the poker. Dicolini shoves Robin.

Dicolini: Whatsa matter for you? You crazy? The boss no play poker!

Robin, hurt, puts the poker back in his robe.

Lights come up on a classroom. At the front is a raised platform with a table, a lectern and behind it a blackboard. A window to the streets of Wittenberg at the left, a doorway at right. Students gathering before class, Among them are Albergus, sitting in the front row, and Wagner, Faustus’s fag, likewise in front.

Albergus: You seem melancholy today, young student. Did your master take last night’s misunderstanding amiss?

Wagner: I don’t think he misunderstood anything. He did make me pick a card. Something he calls three card monte.

Albergus: He predicted your future?

Wagner: Not exactly. But he won back my salary for the next six months. As long as it keeps me close to her, it doesn’t matter.

Albergus: I see you are reading divine Homer. Practicing your Greek?

Wagner: Only dreaming of Helen, fairer than the evening air, clad in beauty of a thousand stars. Her lips suck forth my soul; see where it flies! Here will I dwell, for heaven be in these hips.

WAGNER’S SONG:

I came to work for Faustus seeking scientific sport

Over universal secrets to emote

But then one early evening as I was cleaning out his rooms

I caught a glimpse of Helen

And that was all she wrote

Yes it’s true, I can’t deny it

I’m in love with Helen’s ghost

A spirit maiden, made of mist

My equanimity is toast

Her ectoplasmic thighs

Call from me so many sighs

That it isn’t even funny

(Please don’t laugh.)

Her hair it glows like golden wheat

Let’s not talk about her feet

Skin of alabaster pure

A fleshy spirit, that’s for sure

They say her face launched many ships

How I’d love to kiss those lips

Find a way to mingle fluids

(In a chaste way, sir, of course)

To assay those frosty tetons

That a climber never clumb.

Though I cannot speak a sound sir

Please don’t tell me that I’m dumb

When I think of her posterior

Fully round and fully packed

I can’t imagine one superior

My imagination’s racked.

Though it’s true she’s Greek to me

Nonetheless I seek to be

Round her temple holy shrine

Long to comprehend she’s mine.

It’s not a problem that’s she’s dead, sir.

Though my love’s an ancient queen

She’s as fresh as any daisy

On at Spring morn, that you’ve seen.

But she comes, and then she goes

She’s at Faustus’s beck and call

And I’ve not said any word to her

Just espied her from the hall

At a distance, faintly glowing

Mist of moisture on her skin

Dewy smile, one earlobe showing

But he never lets me in

How I’d love to try her virtue

And to have her try my own

But I guess that it’s not destined

And I’m stuck here all alone

Facing humiliation daily

Who’m I kidding, I’m a mess

As I try to do his bidding

A mass of horny male distress

And my grades are really suffering

And my shoes are getting old

And my soul has lost its stuffing

And my bed is still and cold

Do you think I like this pining

I’m a handsome, vital man!

But the barmaids and the co-eds

Cannot lend me any hand.

So my eyes are growing shaky

My complexion is at risk

If I brush my hair much longer

I’ll be bald before I’m kissed.

Sex I’ve found’s the greatest mystery;

In that ocean, down we sink

It’s the cosmic bang that made us

It’s the power that I seek.

I’m in love with Homer’s Helen

Homer’s Helen makes me mush

Blushing like the greenest sucker

Mooning for a succubus.

Faustus enters, wearing long black academic robes, puffing a cigar, in Groucho lope. Strides back and forth in front of the class, takes up a pointer, raps the lectern, turns and pulls down a chart of a human head with areas mapped out on it like a steer apportioned for slaughter. Except these parts are labelled “Imagination,” “Love” “Sex” “Politics” “Sports” “Clothes” “Gambling” “Religion”.

Faustus: Here we have a diagram of the astral mind in the fourth quarter of the phrenological year. You’ll note the eruptions at the zenith. These eruptions can be cleared up with fulminate of mercury, but the woman only comes on Tuesday afternoons. The rest of the week you have to take care of yourself, if you know what’s good for you. Wagner, tell us what’s good for you.

Wagner, startled, stumbles to his feet.

Wagner: Chastity, Doctor Faustus.

Faustus: Chastity, is it? What about obedience?

Wagner: Obedience. Of course.

Faustus: Poverty?

Wagner: That, too.

Faustus: Quit monking around, boy! Who do you think you’re kidding? You’d better sit down and hibernate until that bonus in your codpiece goes away. Or is that a cod in your bonus piece?

With a crash, the door of the room slams open and in dash Robin and Dicolini. They trip over each other, get up, scramble into two seats in the front row. Dicolini sees Albergus, gives a doubletake.