FAUST
This is what comes of smoking far too much.
SATAN
Good evening, Mr. Faust.
FAUST
Well, I'll be damned!...
And who, I beg, are you?
SATAN
I ask your pardon
For thus appearing in a way unknown
To strict convention. But I never set
Great store by custom; and though nowadays
I follow the proprieties, still I feel
That one need not be slavish—
FAUST
Who are you?
What are you talking of? How did you get here?