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Here, lad, you're puffing out the tale. 'Twas fire

I froze to ice—the crystal phlogiston.—

You, sir, will understand. But ice on fire!

Not Vergil's self had science to do that.

And how you made king Alexander walk!

Hush! Hush! The emperor was not o'erpleased

And all of Innsbruck chattered in its bed.

King Alexander! Nay, we heard the tale.—

A certain Faustus, a philosopher,

Who had a magic to restore the dead

And make them rise. Are you—