Tim Pratt - Sympathy for the Devil

Bateman: I’ll say.

Albergus:-and there is no way that ordinary language can capture even one thousandth of it.

Bateman: Preach it, brother!

Albergus:-But that’s ordinary language. What about extraordinary language? What about the language of God, Bateman? In what language did God originally say, “Let There Be Light!”

Bateman: French?

Albergus: He said it, Bateman, in that mystic, UrCreative language, the language of ultimate truth. The language that came before reality. If a man could grasp that grammar of creation, he could control all that exists! And that language, Bateman, I am convinced, is written in Faustus’s book. Can you imagine it? Faustus has his hand upon the axis of the universe! Yet to what use does he put this power?

Bateman: Well he turned that guy into a clock. And there’s those cigar things?

Albergus: Precisely. A total waste. The man has no more business owning that book than a rabbit.

Bateman: I don’t think he owns a rabbit.

Albergus: That book belongs to he who can make use of it.

Bateman: Uh, speaking of grammar, I think that’s supposed to be “to him,” boss?

Albergus: To me, Bateman. And I aim to get it. Think of the things I might accomplish-strictly for the good of mankind, Bateman, the good of mankind!

ALBERGUS’S SONG:

Power!

I want power!

Enough power to allow

My unique know how to flower.

The world around is aching

For a wise hand to administer a braking

To this runaway cart

The ungovernable heart.

And I can do it.

Why cast my pearls before swine

Why waste my life drinking cheap wine

When I might have champagne

Which, given my intellect,

I deserve

Most royally.

Truth!

Is all I pursue, forsooth!

Not like Faustus, that uncouth pretender.

I must water the tender

Bud of my curiosity

So that my incipient virtuosity

Might grow into a prowess so vital

That it will delight all

And a vision acute

To boot.

Knowledge!

I need knowledge

Not for my own aggrandizement,

But for the advisement, see,

Of those rulers who so ignorantly

Mistake the proper course

Of action. I’ll be the source

Of expedient counsel

A man like me, responsible,

Will make them realize

That to do otherwise than I suggest

Would not be best

For the health of the common folk

Or their own.

Bateman: Love!

Liebschaft!

Amour!

Is what I suggest you initially explore.

I’ll help you out, select moral subjects

For your experiments

In passion philters

Affection smelters

And aphrodisiac science.

Don’t risk your priceless mind:

I’ll selflessly bind myself through rigorous paces

Endure numerous embraces

Test my tender body against feminine wiles

Quaff wild potions out of wilder vials

In Aphrodite’s clinical trials.

This barmaid, here, for instance

Could no doubt benefit

From our ministrations

Don’t you think?

Boss?

Albergus: No greed

Or seed

Of self-concern will tarnish my discerning need

To do what must be done

I’ll take no bad advice

Or advice at all, indeed.

For it would not be nice

To be swayed

By the paltry parade

Of unenlightended folk who’ll seek for my largess

My relief from their distress

The gratitude’s store

Which I shall dispense

Selflessly, more

Or less.

You see, Bateman? That man is an imposter; I shall be the true Faustus! But now, how to break in to his study? Who knows what risks that would entail?

Wagner enters, looks around, goes to him.

Wagner: Pardon me, sir. I am looking for my fellow students, Robin and Dicolini. Have you seen them?

Albergus: Not since they fled your master’s lecture.

Wagner: I’ve exhausted myself searching. I thought they were my friends, but it seems they are more interested in other matters now.

Albergus: A sad breach of faith. Is there anything a fellow scholar can do?

Wagner: Nothing. Unless you can retrieve the imp that Robin called up.

Albergus: I am not without some magical prowess. Perhaps I can locate it. Not only that, but if you’ll tell me when Faustus is away, I can deposit the creature-caged-in his rooms. It would make a good joke, don’t you think? Especially after the shameful way he treated you today.

Wagner: If you could do that, my gratitude would surpass Goneril’s to her father!

Albergus: You have only to ask.

Wagner: Yes, good Frater, please. Faustus told me he would not be home until midnight tonight. If you can arrive before then-

Albergus: I shall be there at ten.

Wagner: Uh-better make it eleven. Eleven-thirty-I have affairs-uh-business. I will let you in.

Albergus: Leave it to me. I will be discreet.

Wagner: Thank you, thank you.

Wagner pumps Albergus’s hand vigorously and leaves, as excited as a groom on his wedding day.

Albergus: So, we have our entry into Faustus’s rooms! Once there, I will discover the satanist’s iniquities. Bateman, you must go to the Bishop of Wittenberg and tell him at once to assemble an ecclesiastical tribunal. We will arrest Faustus by the dawn, have him convicted by noon and roasting at the stake by vespers. And for good measure, we’ll roast this slack fool Wagner along with him.

But wait! I must not be compromised by being associated with the disappearance of Faustus’s magic book. (snaps fingers) Aha! A disguise! (writes a hurried note) Bateman, after you speak to the bishop I want you to fetch me the following items.

Albergus hands Bateman the note and the latter exits. Albergus sips his tankard of ale, throws a couple of coins onto the table, then departs himself. As soon as he does Robin and Dicolini crawl out from beneath the table. Dicolini drains the remainder of Albergus’s ale in a gulp. Robin picks up one of the coins and bites through it. He chews thoughtfully, pulls a salt shaker from his robe, sprinkles the remainder on the coin and pops it into his mouth.

Dicolini: You hear that, Robbie? That Icebergus, hesa cross-double us. Hesa break the case himself and keep alla pieces. We gonna have to get tough.

Robin thrusts a fist under Dicolini’s nose, grimacing and breathing heavily; his other arm goes into a windmill windup. Dicolini kicks him in the butt.

Dicolini: Whatsa matter for you! Getta tough with him, not me. Now listen, we gotta move fast and get to Faustus’s place before the boss, before Wagner, before anybody. We get there so early we be there before we arrive!

Robin honks. They exit. Wagner returns carrying a bundle of clothes. He addresses the barmaid.

Wagner: Have you a bath here

Barmaid: No, sir. In the summer, some guests use the rain barrel in the lower court. But of course it is frozen…

Wagner: Perfect. I want you to chop a hole in the ice for me. I need to keep cool.

Barmaid: You must be very hot.

Wagner (beginning to unlace his boots): You cannot imagine.

Barmaid: What clothing is that?

Wagner: You know Doctor Faustus? Well, a certain young woman I know is expecting to see him tonight. Imagine her surprise when she finds me in his place!

Upstage left, lights come up on alley behind Faustus’s study. Dicolini and Robin wheel a wooden cart or barrow full of paraphernalia up below Faustus’s second-floor bedroom window. Dicolini throws a rope over a rafter protruding out below the eaves, then ties one end around his chest.

Clock (from above): ELEVEN O’CLOCK. IT’S COLDER THAN A WITCH’S BICYCLE SEAT OUT THERE.

Dicolini: Okay, Robbie. You tug onna rope, and I’ll get in through Faustus’s window. Keep a look out. If anybody comes, whistle.