Waltzing in the Shadows: Information Leaks Through the Iron Curtain

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This part of his observation is right on: The first executive order aims to strengthen accountability for federal employees and makes it easier to fire poor performers in the federal government. The second executive order creates a federal labor relations working group to analyze union contracts with the federal government. Puts it right into perspective. That wave of Democratic candidates that is supposed to sweep away the Republican majority in the U. The one that the press and pundits have been predicting for months? One would almost think the steady narrative of a blue wave is an attempt. Book IV Now Available.

In years, Franciscan Friars created 20 missions where thousands of natives thrive, raising crops and extensive herds to provide for themselves and future generations. Ships from afar come to trade. And then, the rumblings of rebellion change everything and within a few short years, the friars are expelled from the land and the natives find themselves lost or enslaved. Timothy Beadle and Jaime the Carpenter have taken up the torch of Father Serra's dream to create centers of learning and industry for the natives of California to have a better way of life.

He encounters difficulties with the governors of California and authorities in Mexico. All that work is threatened by revolution. Timothy and Jaime strive to create. The Birth of El Camino Real. Click on image for link to Amazon. The Englishman and The Majican Indian. Published and available for purchase. When the publishing rights reverted to me, the first thing I did was to try to find a more appropriate and eye-pleasing cover. I hope this new one fits the bill. I also decided to change the title to something more appropriate.

Overdue to Change the Blog Title. As I'm working towards republishing the novels, I realized I was giving short shrift to our deal "Father" Serra. As Pope Francis saw fit to canonize him and make him the patron of Native Americans and California, it was only fit that I finally get the title right! The Latest Book Covers. Okay, I've diddled and fussed and tried one after another. Not sure if these are the final versions but do seem to be the ones I like the most.

And, here's the blurb for it: He was indentured as a cabin boy, sailed to the far ends of the earth, treacherously tossed overboard in a storm, washed up on an alien shore, and wakened by a savage Majican Indian. Timothy Beadle found himself under the spell of Father Junipero Serra and set out to explore the land called Californ. I continue working on the stories for Father Serra's Legacy. Possible New Book Covers.

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With the rights reverted to me, one of the first things I have to do is come up with new book covers. Here are two possibilities I' m considering. A Lot of Work. When I first got a contact with my publisher, I saved all my manuscripts and changes. Then, when we were ready to go to print, I received the proof copy and approved it. At that point, I saved most of my work to compressed files and just kept the proof copy. Now that they're mine to publish, I have to go through all the novels and prepare them once again. Much to my shock, I had somehow lost the manuscript to The King's Highway.

All I had was the. My less than successful relationship with my publisher is over and the rights to my three novels in Father Serra's Legacy have reverted to me. I will be devising completely new covers and blurbs so more people will find - and enjoy - the stories of the discovery of California. This has been, by far, the most difficult novel I have ever written. It's not the hours and hours of research and more research I've put into it. It's not the characters telling the story. In fact, I purposely moved from Timothy and Jaime as the main characters in the first three novels to James and Teresa Marta, Timothy's son and Jaime's daughter.

I think the difficulty lies in my hesitation to present the absolute disaster of taking the missions away from the friars. Over the past few months, he had grown accustomed to the crude, even rude, comments by the new lords of the American territory of California. I find it difficult to realize I was born nearby in the towering tule reeds on the bank of the Carmel River. James set the quill pen in its holder and carefully blotted the wet ink on the thick piece of paper. One of Sergeant Pacheco's missions was to find an overland.

They returned to the mission site and followed this river north into the hills. It was either that or return all the way to Soledad. The trees seem to touch the sky and the valleys filled with oaks provided food for t. James spent two days doing very little beyond going out with the Carlita, letting Little Bear act as captain.

He could not shake off the thought that if he had been there, his father would not have gone out and would still live. A small temporary chapel stood at a place where temporary walls of brush outlined what had once been the quadrangle. Like the other structures, it was made of wattle. An area several hundred paces downhill clearly was for making clay to turn into sun-dried bricks, but only a paltry pile of bricks showed sign. How did they call the Gentiles to prayers and Mass?

They had also expected to see the mission a little over a league before it came into view after seeing the cattle with the mission brand grazing around them. When they asked, they learned that soldiers in the compound had received an order from Lieutenant Carrillo to prepare themselves to fend off an Indian attack. Both stared at each other, then shrugged.

Not all the soldiers they had seen to date were armed or prepared to fend off raids by a large band of Gentiles. Besides, which tribes would possibly rise up? Wide beaches in many places provided respite from the dust of the highway and they found many spots to water their mounts from streams winding their way down from the gentle hills.

Chumash often made their homes along those streams and always offered what little they had to the travelers. In each, at least one large Tomolwas ei. A grassy plain stretched south beyond their vision with just a thin line of hills in the distance. More rugged hills rose to the right with hints of mountains.

Thick clouds offshore explainedthe wisps of moisture they had felt in the night. Thick kelp beds rolled with the waves and the ever-present otters lay on their backs atop the kelp leaves, using stone to open shells to feed. A stream came down out of hills covere. Popularity Popularity Featured Price: Low to High Price: High to Low Avg. Mekong Ambush Apr 11, Available for download now. A saga of California and the conflict between Mexicans and Americans Mar 14, Lost Wages in Las Vegas Jul 04, Atomic City Apr 11, The Birth of el Camino Real: The Englishman and The Majican Indian: The King's Highway by Dale Day Robbie's Long Journey Home Apr 11, Waltzing in the Shadows: A magical journey through myth to unseal the gates of the world Feb 24, Blood in the Meadows Feb 14, Provide feedback about this page.

There's a problem loading this menu right now. Get fast, free shipping with Amazon Prime. Get to Know Us. English Choose a language for shopping. Amazon Music Stream millions of songs. Let us speak of our business. I have called you here because you are brother scholars, acquainted with the university, and students of the reknowned Doctor Faustus. I have also heard that you are available for delicate work and for a reasonable fee can keep your mouths shut. I trust I have not been mislead? I keepa my mouth shut for nothing. Robin, his mouth cost extra. Robin opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue, from which a price tag dangles.

What I want you to do is keep an eye on Doctor Faustus for me. You want the whole expression, it cost you a pretty penny. We give you a pretty expression, though. Robin puffs out his cheeks, purses his lips and crosses his eyes. Albergus controls himself, ignores him. I want you to find out how Faustus spends his evenings. Does he practice black magic? Is he in league with infernal forces? And I need proof, the sooner the better. Should you do this for me, your investigation shall receive such thanks as fits a king's remembrance.

How much you gonna pay? I'll pay you ten silver pieces. We a-no want no pieces. We want the whole thing. Robin honks a horn and nods, surly. Another ten pieces then, if you provide me the information I need. How do we know thatsa all? Look, we shadow Faustus for you, how we gonna know when you give us ten pieces thatsa the whole thing? But I'm offering you twenty pieces for shadowning Faustus. See what I mean? First you gotta ten pieces, now you gotta twenty pieces, but we no gotta the whole thing. You shadow Faustus for me, and then we'll talk about the whole thing.

Suppose I drop a vase, itsa break. How many pieces I got? I don't know; I gotta count them. Now you give me ten pieces, you give me twenty pieces, I still don't have them all, maybe. I shatter vase, we shadow Faustus, itsa same thing: 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. 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. You no fool me, boss. 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. 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. 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.

I trust we are in agreement now? You'll do this piece of work for me? We do the whole thing. Albergus steers them toward the door, his arms across their shoulders. Remember now, should you meet me in public, I'm a stranger. Hesa stranger than both of us put together. So I'm beginning to understand. We gotta go now. We're gonna be late for the classes we wanna miss. 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. Whatsa matter for you? The boss no play poker! Robin, hurt, puts the poker back in his robe. Scene Three 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.

You seem melancholy today, young student. Did your master take last night's misunderstanding amis? I don't think he misunderstood anything. He did make me pick a card. Something he calls three card monte. He predicted your future? But he won back my salary for the next six months. I see you are reading divine Homer. 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. 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? 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.

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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. Faustus enters, wearing long black academic robe, 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.

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. 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 bonuspiece? 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 double take, Dicolini: I never saw him before in my life. Faustus turns his ire on Dicolini. Late for class again, eh? Why, the town clock struck not five minutes ago. It's half past ten!

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Robin pulls an hourglass from out of his bottomless cloak. All the sand is in the bottom. He waves it at Faustus. See, we're right on time. Not according to that. Atsa run a little fast. You can't fool me that easily. By that housglass, it must be eleven o'clock. Then class is over. I'm not done lecturing. 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. He comes out of his seat, huffing and puffing as if he is about to go berserk. My friend, hesa get pretty mad. You watch out or he give you a piece of his mind. I wouldn't want to take the last piece. Well, if you say so. Come here, young man. Fausuts reaches for Robin's arm but somehow finds himself holding his thigh.

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He pushes it away in disgust. Let's take a look at your skull. Robin pulls a glowing skull from his cloak and presents it to Faustus. Faustus pops open its mouth and relights his cigar from the candle buring 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.

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Faustus taps his pointer against Robin's skull. 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? On my pancakes, I like a maple seraph. I no like a cherub. I like a maple. I no like angel food, either.

Well, that takes the cake. Robin is rubbing against the chart like a cat. 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? 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? The kid knees keep their legs from bending backwards. Faustus leans toward Albergus. Do you hear voices? Dicolini turns around, raises his fists to accept the accolades of his fellow students. Faustus turns on him. A kid's knees already bend backwards. Do you have any other bright ideas? I let you know. 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.

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 fluorish, 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. 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. Oh, no you don't! 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. As your punishment, you will retrieve that imp for me by midnight. But Magister, I didn't do anything! 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. 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. Midnight tonight, noble Faustus. Then do the jaws of hell open to receive thee. How late do they stay open?

Long enough to swallow thee up, soul and socks. Faustus holding up cigar: The cigar magically flares up, and Faustus takes a few speculative puffs. And what happens after that? Mephistophiles points to the wall, and a Gustave Dore engraving of Hell and demons is projected onto it. 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. You're not much of a travel agent. Usually it's the other way around. Dis ain't no joke. Fools that will laugh on earth must weep in hell. You won't settle for a moan in Cologne? 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. By the way, have you seen Helen lately? What's she doing in there?

You told her to stay in it. Thank heaven for literal girls. Heaven had nothing to do with it. Well, what am I supposed to do, swing both ways? Shall I have her dress? It wouldn't fit you. Work on your thighs. When he tires, I'll strap him to a bed of razors. 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. This is no game, Faustus.

I thought it was the alembic games. Worry not about Helen, magister. If she disobeys you, I'll cull thee out the wildest Frauleins in the north of Europe. 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. How about half a chance? Cost you ten marks. An eon up to his chin in boiling manure. Mephistopheles begins to beat his head against the table. 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? What would you say? Is it true that you wash your hair in clam broth? A codpiece of burning iron. 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. 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 Tsu to quit his job, and now I'm down to this.

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. 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.

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 it cut away, so we can view the inside. Heaps of shoes, boots. Helen helping him up: It is I, Helen. Just who I've been looking for. I must see you. And here I am without a candle. 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. Is that why you came into the closet? 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.

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He knows how to do it himself. But sometimes he'd rather not. 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. I wish I could. Say, do you smell burning sulfur? You should never eat radishes. Who can he have out there with him? 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. Outside in the bedroom, Faustus fis 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. I'll do my best. You have to realize I'm not very experienced at? Troy wasn't ruined in a day. But now you must go. But I just got here. If Faustus found you here his jealously would know no bounds. Come back later, fair student. 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. How can I wait that long, thinking of you? Troilus recommended strenuous exercise and cold baths. Until eleven, my love! She propels him out the door. 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.

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  • A halfwitted student merely looks into that book and is able to conjure up an imp! Can you imagine the power that volume must contain? A guy could have a hot time with that book. It is all a matter of knowing the right words. Faustus's book must contain the language of UrCreation. Or even the language of procreation? 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?

    But that's ordinary language. What about extraordinary language? What about the language of God, Bateman? 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? Well he turned that guy into a clock. And there's those cigar things? The man has no more business owing that book than a rabbit. I don't think he owns a rabbit. That book belongs to he who can make use of it. Uh, speaking of grammar, I think that's supposed to be "to him," boss? To me , Bateman.

    And I aim to get it. Think of the things I might accomplish? Enough power to allow My unique knowhow 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. 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. I need knowledge Not for my own agrandizement, 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. 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? 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.

    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. I am looking for my fellow students, Robin and Dicolini. Have you seen them? Not since they fled your master's lecture. I've exhausted myself searching.

    I thought they were my friends, but it seems they are more interested in other matters now. A sad breach of faith. Is there anything a fellow scholar can do? Unless you can retrieve the imp that Robin called up. 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.

    If you could do that, my gratitude would surpass Goneril's to her father! You have only to ask. 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. I will let you in. Leave it to me. I will be discreet. Thank you, thank you. Wagner pumps Albergus's hand vigorously and leaves, as excited as a groom on his wedding day.

    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. I must not be compromized by being associated with the disappearance of Faustus's magic book. 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 thoughtfull, pulls a salt chaker from his robe, sprinkles the remainder of the coin and pops it into his mouth. 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, grimmacing and breathing heavily; his other arm goes into a windmill windup. Dicolini kicks him in the butt. 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!

    Wagner returns carrying a bundle of clothes. He addresses the barmaid. Have you a bath here? In the summer, some guests use the rain barrel in the lower court. But of course it is frozen? I want you to chop a hole in the ice for me. I need to keep cool. You must be very hot. Wagner beginning to unlace his boots: What clothing is that? 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! Scene Six Upstage left, lights come up on alley behind Faustus's study. Dicolini and Robin wheel a wooden cart or barrow full of paraphrenalia 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. You tug onna rope, and I'll get in through Fausuts's window. Keep a look out. If anybody comes, whistle. 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: 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.

    Waltzing in the Shadows: Information Leaks Through the Iron Curtain Waltzing in the Shadows: Information Leaks Through the Iron Curtain
    Waltzing in the Shadows: Information Leaks Through the Iron Curtain Waltzing in the Shadows: Information Leaks Through the Iron Curtain
    Waltzing in the Shadows: Information Leaks Through the Iron Curtain Waltzing in the Shadows: Information Leaks Through the Iron Curtain
    Waltzing in the Shadows: Information Leaks Through the Iron Curtain Waltzing in the Shadows: Information Leaks Through the Iron Curtain
    Waltzing in the Shadows: Information Leaks Through the Iron Curtain Waltzing in the Shadows: Information Leaks Through the Iron Curtain

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