Tim Pratt - Sympathy for the Devil

Robin nods, spits into his palms, leaps high into the air and grabs the rope. The rope hauls Dicolini two feet above the ground, and Robin hands two feet above the ground on the opposite end; they struggle and flop together like hooked fish. Lights go down halfway, leaving them in stage left, and come up upstage right on the entrance to Faustus’s apartments, where the porter, Martin, sits on a stool against the wall snoring, drunk as usual. Wagner comes up, sees Martin, then puts on a Faustus costume: black academic gown, mortarboard hat, greasepaint mustache, wire rimmed spectacles. He then strides up to Martin, who wakes woozily as Wagner salutes him and goes inside.

Lights go down upstage, come up downstage to reveal the inside of Fausuts’s apartment. Wagner enters through common room door, then hurries to the bedroom and the wardrobe. He opens the door and stands on the threshhold.

Wagner: Helen!

Helen: Darling!

Wagner is overwhelmed by her ardor, even perhaps a little scared.

Wagner: Don’t worry-it’s me, Wagner! You can come out of the closet, now.

Helen: Oh!

Wagner: What’s wrong?

Helen: I thought you were Faustus. I forgot to tell you that I can’t come out until he says I can. After all, I am his to command. Won’t you come in?

Wagner: But-

Clock: ELEVEN FIFTEEN. I WONDER HOW THE METS ARE DOING?

A sound from the commons room. It’s Faustus, who has come from his study toward the bedroom, followed by Mephistopheles. Wagner climbs into the closet just as Faustus and the demon enter.

Faustus: I wish you’d stop following me around. I want to get ready for bed.

Mephisto: You shall not sleep this night, Faustus.

Faustus: I certainly won’t if you keep pestering me. Go away.

Mephistopheles disappears in a cloud of sulfurous smoke and flame. Faustus goes to the closet.

Faustus: Now where’s my nightshirt? I thought I left it lying around here. (To Helen) Are you still in there?

Helen: Who?

Faustus: Unless you’re keeping an owl, Helen of Troy.

Wagner nudges Helen frantically. She gets flustered.

Helen: What owl? There’s no owl in here.

Faustus: Owl take your word for it. Does one of you birds want to hand me my nightshirt?

Wagner fumbles among the clothes, gives Helena nightshirt. She opens the door a crack and hands it out. Faustus peeks in.

Faustus: Hope it’s not too boring in there.

Helen: Not yet. I wouldn’t mind some fresh air once in a while.

Faustus (sniffs): The air in there smells pretty fresh already. Or maybe it’s my undershirt. (Hauls out tarot deck) Would you like to take a card?

Helen: No, thank you.

Faustus closes the door, takes the nightshirt and leaves. The rathaus clock strikes and Wagner jumps.

Wagner: You said Faustus would be out tonight!

Helen: Did I?

Helen embraces Wagner. He forgets his annoyance and begins to nuzzle her. They fumble around in the cramped closet, and Helen finally pushes him away.

Wagner: Noble queen?

Helen: I’m sorry, but I can’t get into the mood lying on old shoes. Can’t you find some way to let me out?

Wagner: Wait here. Faustus’s magic book must be around somewhere. I’ll find a spell of unbinding.

Wagner leaves the closet and sneaks out of the bedroom toward Faustus’s study. The lights fade downstage and come up upstage right on the entrance to the building, where Martin still sits. Albergus enters in a blizzard of impatience. He dons a Faustus disguise of robe, greasepaint mustache, spectacles and mortarboard and approaches Martin. Martin gives a woozy double take as Albergus enters.

Lights go down upstage right, come up downstage on Faustus’s apartment. Wagner has gone into Faustus’s study. Albergus enters the common room, considers the study but goes into the bedroom. He rifles through the bedside table, the trunk at the end of the bed. It’s full of clothes, including a nightshirt or two that he throws onto the bed. He tries the closet door. As soon as he opens it Helen throws her arms around him.

Helen: Darling! Let me out of the closet! Then will I fulfill your every desire.

Albergus (stumbling back, hauling out across): Back, hell-fiend!

He slams the closet door on Helen. He wipes his brow, shaken. Just then there is a rattling from the window. Albergus hurries from the room. The window opens, and Dicolini climbs in, unties the rope. He peeks out the bedroom door, then hesitates. He ponders, sees the nightshirt on the bed, snaps his fingers. He takes off his boots, rolls up his pants, dons the nightshirt and a stocking cap. From the bedside table he takes some makeup and smears a greasepaint mustache over his lip, puts on some spare spectacles. Just as he’s about to leave the room he hears a voice.

Helen: Is that you?

Dicolini: Maybe.

Helen: Please let me out of here.

Dicolini: Who are you?

Helen: Don’t be silly. You know who I am.

Dicolini: Itsa slip my mind.

Helen (sarcastically): Well, I’m the most beautiful woman in history.

Dicolini: Never mind coming out. I come in.

Dicolini opens the closet door. Helen throws her arms around his neck.

Helen: Darling!

Lights fade on the bedroom, come up on the study. Wagner is frantically searching through the papers on Faustus’s desk. He finds an impressive contract, Faustus’s deal with the devil. He tries to puzzle it out, reading aloud.

Wagner:… party of the first part shall be called the party of the first part… contractee reserves the right to a speedy conviction, the right to a free lunch, the right to sing the blues, the right… in the event of a change of political party, the once in a blue moon, when hell freezes over, if the pope is Catholic, and bears sit in the woods… rights to knowledge including but not confined to THE MEANING OF LIFE and any related subsidiary meanings, notions, ideas, quips, lemmas and passing fancies…

Clock: ELEVEN THIRTY. IT’S LATER THAN YOU THINK.

Albergus, in common room, and Wagner in the study both jump. The door to the hall opens and Faustus re-enters; Albergus immediately enters the study. When the study door opens Wagner stuffs the contract into his shirt and dashes under the desk. Albergus comes to the desk, rifles through the papers, finds nothing and goes to the ranks of bookshelves toward the back of the study.

In the bedroom, Dicolini and Helen are doing a combination wrestling match and waltz as he tries to maneuver her toward the bed. She begins to realize that this is not Faustus, and resists.

In the common room, Faustus is searching through shelves and cabinets looking for something. Finally he gives up.

Faustus (to clock): Have you seen my cigars anywhere?

Clock: What, am I the maid, too?

In the study Wagner is about to sneak out from beneath the desk when Faustus gives up on the commons and enters the study. Wagner dashes back under the desk. Albergus watches warily from behind a bookshelf. In the bedroom Dicolini is pressing Helen toward the bed.

Dicolini: Bella felissima ronzoni, allapacino.

Helen: My lord, you know I don’t understand Latin.

Dicolini: Atsa not Latin, atsa Italian.

Helen: I don’t understand Italian, either.

Dicolini: Atsa okay. Neither do I.

Lights down in bedroom, up on alley upstage left. Robin is freezing. He tears a picture of a fire from a book and pins it to the cart, trying to warm his hands before it. He stomps around, flapping his arms. The imp, in his cloak, awakes, pops out, leaps onto the rope and scrambles up through the window. Robin runs around frantically. He stops, snaps his fingers. He rummages through the cart, gets out a nightshirt, glasses, nightcap. He smears black grease from the cart axle under his nose as a mustache. Thus dressed he goes upstage right to where Martin keeps the entrance. Martin gives a double-take, Robin enters.