Scene: Faust’s Studio.
Servant. Well, if you have no further use for me,
I will go make our preparation.
Faust. If anybody calls, say I am out;
I must have time to see how I will act.
As to the form in which I shall be written,
I must decide whether in prose or verse.
My thoughts I’ll bend. Give me at once the Times:
Walkley I always find inspiriting—
And really I learn much about the drama
(Even the German drama) from his pen,
More curious than that of Paracelsus.
(Reads) ‘Sic vos non vobis, Bernard Shaw might say,
Dieu et mon droit. Ich dien. Et taceat
Femina in ecclesia. Ellen Terry,
La plus belle femme de toutes les femmes
Du monde.’ Archer, I have observed,
Writes no more for the World, but for himself.
Then I forgot; he’s writing for the Leader,
That highly independent Liberal paper.
[Faust muses. Bell heard.
The Elixir of Life, is it a play
Which runs a thousand nights? Is it a dream
Precipitated into some alembic
Or glass retort by Ex-ray Lankester?
Enter Servant.
Servant. A gentleman has called.
Faust. Say I am out.
Servant. He will take no denial.
Faust. Show him in.
Most probably ’tis Herbert Beerbohm Tree,
Who long has planned a play of Doctor Faustus.