Introducing the Doctor.
*He swaggers in, looking a little too opulent in a black velvet doublet with scarlet pleats and gilt buttons. Yet there remains a certain scholarly sobriety about his bearing, almost an irony in the particular nature of his haughtiness, which seems rather that of scientists than of aristocrats.*
Herr Gott, what is this place? Many strange lands and strange men have I known, for I am learned beyond all worldly learning; but yet I confess this is quite exceptional. I recall no Judgment, and I feel no fire; then it is not that I have come to my final reward. For the first time in an age I am beset with questions. Yes, even I!"
*He glances around to make sure that someone is listening to, or at least overhearing, his soliloquy. Clearing his throat, he resumes more loudly.* Long, how long it is since life has held new wonders for me! I believed I had left no forbidden fruit unsucked, nor maid unravished. For behold! I have no fear of Hell!
*He waits expectantly to be struck by lightning, or at least admonished by some passer-by. But after a moment's silence, he sags a bit.*
Oh, to the devil with this. Anyone care to buy a poor conjurer a drink?
[Typist: from Goethe's Faust, of course; possibly with a bit of Marlowe thrown in for good measure. :) ]
Herr Gott, what is this place? Many strange lands and strange men have I known, for I am learned beyond all worldly learning; but yet I confess this is quite exceptional. I recall no Judgment, and I feel no fire; then it is not that I have come to my final reward. For the first time in an age I am beset with questions. Yes, even I!"
*He glances around to make sure that someone is listening to, or at least overhearing, his soliloquy. Clearing his throat, he resumes more loudly.* Long, how long it is since life has held new wonders for me! I believed I had left no forbidden fruit unsucked, nor maid unravished. For behold! I have no fear of Hell!
*He waits expectantly to be struck by lightning, or at least admonished by some passer-by. But after a moment's silence, he sags a bit.*
Oh, to the devil with this. Anyone care to buy a poor conjurer a drink?
[Typist: from Goethe's Faust, of course; possibly with a bit of Marlowe thrown in for good measure. :) ]