Sympathy for the Devil

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Sympathy for the Devil Page 51

by Tim Pratt


  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.

  Dicolini: Who's this guy? I never saw him before in my life.

  He winks theatrically at Albergus. Faustus turns his ire on Dicolini.

  Faustus: Late for class again, eh?

  Dicolini: We a-no late.

  Faustus: Why, the town clock struck not five minutes ago. It's half past ten!

  Dicolini: No it's not.

  Robin pulls an hourglass from out of his bottomless cloak. All the sand is in the bottom. He waves it at Faustus.

  Dicolini: See, we're right on time.

  Faustus: Not according to that.

  Dicolini: Atsa run a little fast. Shesa use quicksand.

  Faustus: Oh no. You can't fool me that easily. By that hourglass, it must be eleven o'clock.

  Dicolini: Then class is over. Let's go, Robbie.

  Faustus: Hold on, Macduff. I'm not done lecturing.

  Dicolini: Too bad. We're done listening.

  Faustus: Well, you can forget about leaving until my clock strikes eleven. Time is money, and my time is worth at least a couple of marks. You boys look like a couple of marks. Are you brothers?

  Robin is insulted. He comes out of his seat, huffing and puffing as if he is about to go berserk.

  Dicolini: My friend, hesa get pretty mad. You watch out or he give you a piece of his mind.

  Faustus: No thanks. I wouldn't want to take the last piece.

  Dicolini: Atsa okay. He won't notice.

  Faustus: Well, if you say so. Come here, young man.

  Faustus reaches for Robin's arm but somehow finds himself holding his thigh. He pushes it away in disgust.

  Faustus: Let's take a look at your skull.

  Robin pulls a glowing skull from his cloak and presents it to Faustus. The class recoils. Faustus pops open its mouth and relights his cigar from the candle burning inside. He tosses the skull out the window, stands Robin in front of the chart, and backs off a step to appraise him. Moon-faced Robin looks about as intelligent as a hardboiled egg. Faustus taps his pointer against Robin's skull.

  Faustus: The astral mind is responsible for contact with the spiritual world without the intervention of either seraphim or cherubim. You all know what a seraph is, don't you?

  Dicolini (standing): Sure. On my pancakes, I like a maple seraph.

  Faustus: No, no. Cherubs, seraphs.

  Dicolini: I no like a cherub. I like amaple.

  Faustus: These aren't food--they're angels.

  Dicolini: I no like angel food, either.

  Faustus: Well, that takes the cake. Where was I?

  Robin is rubbing against the chart like a cat.

  Faustus: Let's forget about the astral mind. That's obviously not relevant with this subject. Don't let me wake you, now. I'm not offending you by talking, am I?

  Robin honks.

  Faustus: Gesundheit. Moving south from the astral mind, we come to the inferior regions of the intellect. And when I say inferior, I mean inferior. The inferior mind, as you'll remember from our last lecture, is responsible for worldly thought, for instance, how did your nose get that way, and wasn't that a great plague we had last month. Worldly thought, of course, must be processed by one of the other organs before it becomes definable in emotional terms. The heart, for instance, controls affection, the liver, love, and the spleen, anger. Who can tell us what the kidneys control?

  Dicolini (rising again): The kid knees keep their legs from bending backwards.

  Faustus leans toward Albergus.

  Faustus: Do you hear voices?

  Dicolini turns around, raises his fists to accept the accolades of his fellow students. Faustus turns on him.

  Faustus: A kid's knees already bend backwards. Do you have any other bright ideas?

  Dicolini: Not right now. I let you know.

  Faustus: Do that. Drop me a postcard to warn me when you'll arrive. If I had a couple more students like you boys I could change gold into lead.

  Wagner sighs. He's thinking of fair Helen. Meanwhile, Robin has moved to Faustus's lectern and opens Faustus's magic book. A small cloud of dust billows out. Robin pulls a kerchief out of his sleeve with a flourish, sneezes, then blows his nose with a loud honk. There is a flash of light and a smell of sulfur. When the smoke clears there is an imp standing on the edge of the podium. The class is astounded. Albergus stands up. Faustus stubs his cigar out on Dicolini's hat. Robin, delighted, holds his hand out to the imp, which crawls up his arm onto his shoulder.

  Faustus: Oh, no you don't!

  Dicolini: Come on, Robbie!

  Faustus and Robbie dance back and forth on opposite sides of the lectern. Robin dashes for the door with Dicolini, who slams it in Faustus's face. Faustus whips it open, looks out, comes back to the lectern and whirls on Wagner.

  Faustus: As your punishment, you will retrieve that imp for me by midnight.

  Wagner: But Magister, I didn't do anything!

  Faustus: Since when has that made any difference around here?

  Scene Four

  We are back in Faustus's apartment, in the study. Faustus is there, idly leafing through a copy of Esquire. With him is monstrous Mephistopheles, a demon from Hell and Faustus's servant.

  Mephistopheles moves to stage front at points during this scene, addressing the audience directly in asides. Whenever he does, Faustus freezes in place in the background until Mephisto returns and takes up his place in the conversation.

  Mephisto (aside): Better to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven
, Lucifer told us. Little did I know that I would end up spending twenty-four years playing mindless practical jokes for a man purported to be the wisest scholar in Europe. When I fell from heaven, I knew I was in for a poorer class of associate, but I never thought it could get this bad. Why this is hell, nor am I out of it.

  Clock: FOUR O'CLOCK. HOW MUCH LONGER DO I HAVE TO KEEP DOING THIS?

  Mephisto: Midnight tonight, noble Faustus. Then do the jaws of hell open to receive thee.

  Faustus: How late do they stay open?

  Mephisto: Long enough to swallow thee up, soul and socks.

  Faustus (holding up cigar): Light it.

  The cigar magically flares up, and Faustus takes a few speculative puffs.

  Faustus: And what happens after that?

  Mephistopeles points to the wall, and a Gustave Dore engraving of Hell and demons is projected onto it.

  Mephisto: Here is Dis, the city of Hell. You will be thrown into this perpetual torture-house. These are the furies, tossing damned souls on burning forks; their bodies boil in lead. Over here are humans broiling on coals that can never die. These souls that are fed with sops of burning fire were gluttons in their lives who laughed to see the poor starve at their gates. You shall see ten thousand tortures more horrid.

  Faustus: You're not much of a travel agent. "See Dis and die."

  Mephisto: Usually it's the other way around.

  Faustus: You're right. Dis ain't no joke.

  Mephisto: Fools that will laugh on earth must weep in hell.

  Faustus: You won't settle for a moan in Cologne?

  Mephisto (aside): Grubs on the eyeballs. Perhaps I'll start him with that. But no sense doing the other side's work for it. He might still repent.

  Mephistopheles dissolves the vision of hell.

  Faustus: By the way, have you seen Helen lately?

  Mephisto: In your closet.

  Faustus: In my closet! What's she doing in there?

  Mephisto: You told her to stay in it.

  Faustus: I did? Oh, yes. Literal girl. Thank heaven for literal girls.

  Mephisto: Heaven had nothing to do with it.

  Faustus: Well, what am I supposed to do, swing both ways?

  Mephisto: Shall I have her dress?

  Faustus: It wouldn't fit you. Work on your thighs.

  Mephisto (aside): When he tires, I'll strap him to a bed of razors.

  Faustus (pacing): So she's in the closet, eh? And here I stand bantering with the help. Get her out here pronto. If she won't come, call for me, and I'll go in after her. If I don't come back, you can have my alembic.

  Mephisto: This is no game, Faustus.

  Faustus: It isn't? I thought it was the alembic games.

  Mephisto: Worry not about Helen, magister. If she disobeys you, I'll cull thee out the wildest Frauleins in the north of Europe.

  Faustus: The cull of the wild, eh? Sounds like a bunch of dogs to me. And who's going to clean up after them, tell me that. If I gave you half a chance you'd wreck this happy home.

  Faustus whips out a book of raffle tickets and proffers them.

  Faustus: How about half a chance? Cost you ten marks.

  Mephsito (aside): An eon up to his chin in boiling manure. (to Faustus) Just now I don't feel lucky.

  Faustus: So? Never mind that, pick a card.

  Mephistopheles begins to beat his head against the table.

  Faustus: Hey, watch that finish! Okay, look, just keep an eye on Wagner for me, then. He wants to examine Helen's thesis. Can you imagine the consequences if she managed to seduce that boy? Why, she's been dead for two thousand years! What would his mother say? What would I say?

  Mephisto: What would you say?

  Faustus: Is it true that you wash your hair in clam broth?

  Mephisto (aside): A codpiece of burning iron.

  MEPHISTO'S SONG:

  I was once an angel bright, lived by heaven's wall

  Never had no problems, never took on city hall

  Then Lucifer sought out my help in his election bid

  To revolutionize God's government; don't ask me how we did.

  Then I was proud to be a demon, didn't care if I was damned

  Frolicked in the brimstone pools, surfed the Styx's strand

  A sophisticated soul from Dante's seventh circle down

  Until the day I found myself working for this clown.

  Now I'm Faustus's fool

  There's not a thing I can do

  My fate's intolerably cruel

  Each day it hits me anew

  (If I were alive I would kill myself.)

  Smuggled off to Rome to swipe the Papal second course

  Riding on a bale of hay changed into a horse

  Lighting his cigars, cleaning up his mess

  Playing tricks on ostlers, IQs forty-three or less

  Scaring up a bowl of grapes on January first

  Mixing up a stupid drink to quench a stupid thirst

  Chasing down new girls for him to catechise unsightly

  Doing stupid card tricks watching stupid card tricks nightly.

  I'm only Faustus's tool

  There's no one that I can sue

  Stuck in this backwater school

  Feeling so battered and blue.

  (Please sir, may I have another Tylenol?)

  There's no kind of man I haven't tempted in my days

  I've hung with every ex-seraphim this side of Hades

  Sent Alexander a mosquito, taught Cleopatra how to kiss

  Told Lao Tzu to quit his job, and now I'm down to this.

  They say the Lord of Heaven's ways work quite mysteriously

  Pal, I'm here to tell you what they say they say it justly.

  Just one thought has kept me sane for twenty-seven years

  That's at the stroke midnight I'll be drying all my tears

  For now I'm Faustus's fool

  Trapped within his arena

  Doing hops through his hoops

  I ain't seen nothing obscener.

  (Bet your dog can't dance like this.)

  Clock: You think you've got it bad, let's switch jobs awhile, Sam

  At least you get to walk around, I'm frozen on this stand

  What's more I can't remember why he strapped me to this block

  I must have pissed him off some way. Bong! It's five o'clock.

  Mephisto: Five o'clock! That means he's only seven hours away

  From a certain course of exercise I'm planning from this day

  I'll whip him into shape, I'll take a pound of flesh or more

  He'll be twice the man he is today and I'll be half as sore.

  No longer Faustus's fool

  There'll be some things I can do

  I'll be intolerably cruel

  He'll end up scholarly stew.

  (Wizard guts--they're not just for breakfast anymore!)

  While Faustus and Mephisto banter in the study, the door to Faustus's apartments opens silently and Wagner sneaks in. He goes to the study door, listens, hears their voices, music. Sniffs the air. As Faustus comes to open the door he rushes across the common room into the bedroom, looks around frantically, then hides in the closet, where he trips over some shoes and bumps into Helen. The closet is cut away, so we can view the inside. Dim light. Hanging robes. Heaps of shoes, boots. Helen, bored.

  Wagner: Mmmph! Who is it?

  Helen (helping him up): It is I, Helen.

  Wagner: Helen! Just who I've been looking for. I must see you.

  Helen: And here I am without a candle.

  Wagner: No one can hold a candle to you! I need you, Helen. You cannot know the torture I've been through imagining what Faustus has been doing with you.

  Helen: Is that why you came into the closet?

  Wagner: Faustus sent me on a fool's errand, but now that I'm with you I'll never play the fool again. He expects me to find an imp he lost. I snuck in to search his books for a spell to help me. I don't know why he can't do it himself.

>   Helen: He knows how to do it himself. But sometimes he'd rather not. Look at me.

  Faustus and Mephistopheles enter the bedroom. Fausts makes Mephistopheles go down on all fours and begins to use him as a card table, laying out a solitaire hand with his tarot deck. Steam begins to rise from Mephisto's collar.

  Wagner: I wish I could. Say, do you smell burning sulfur?

  Helen: You should never eat radishes.

  Wagner: Who can he have out there with him?

  Helen: Some visiting scholar, surely. I'm so glad you found me. I didn't even suspect you knew of my existence. I've been so bored, cooped up in here. It's worse than life with Menelaus ever was. And Sparta was heaven compared to this! I'm still a young woman. I want to sing, I want to dance, I want to enjoy every particle of life! Can you help me, dear student?

  She kisses him passionately. Steam begins to rise from Wagner's collar, too. Outside in the bedroom, Faustus is coughing from the gathering smoke in the room; he gathers up his cards, waves the billowing clouds of smoke away and retreats to the common room. Mephisto rises and follows.

  Wagner: I'll do my best. You have to realize I'm not very experienced at...

  Helen: Don't worry. Troy wasn't ruined in a day. But now you must go.

  Wagner: Go? But I just got here.

  Helen: Nevertheless. If Faustus found you here his jealously would know no bounds. Come back later, fair student. Tonight! Faustus will be gone until midnight. Return at eleven, and I will show you arts of which I alone am mistress. Until then you must do his bidding.

  Wagner: Eleven? How can I wait that long, thinking of you?

  Helen: Troilus recommended strenuous exercise and cold baths. Until eleven, my love!

  She propels him out the door.

  Scene Five

  In the Boar's Bollocks Inn. Albergus sits at a table with Bateman plotting Faustus's destruction. A buxom barmaid serves their beers. Albergus is indifferent, but Bateman inspects her avidly.

  Albergus: A half-witted student merely looks into that book and is able to conjure up an imp! Can you imagine the power that volume must contain?

  Bateman: A guy could have a hot time with that book.

  Albergus: It is all a matter of knowing the right words. Faustus's book must contain the language of UrCreation.

  Bateman (watching waitress): Or even the language of procreation?

  Albergus: You see, Bateman, most language is just empty words. You've sat outside on a splendid fall afternoon, and the sun warmed your limbs, the sweet breeze caressed your cheek, you lay back and watched the skies, the bullocks, the squirrels?

 

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