THE DEVIL
Magnus! Look at me!
[Magnus tries to disobey, but his eyes are literally torn upward and into The Devil’s.
THE DEVIL (at centre table, turns on electric cigar-lighter—an illuminated disk that burns dully)
Magnus, look at that light!
[Magnus is still staring at him.
THE DEVIL
Not me! The light! Saves my energy.
[Magnus stares still at him. The Devil goes to Magnus and turns his head, arranging it as a photographer does for position. He points his finger along Magnus’s line of vision, turning it toward the luminous disk. Then he sits down, his elbow on the table near the cigar-lighter, and lights cigarette. Leaning his head on his palm, he stares at Magnus in the growing darkness, the red glow of cigarette growing as the light outside begins to die before the rainstorm. This red glow lights up The Devil’s face. The light bobs closer, inspecting and inquisitive.
THE DEVIL